The decision came to Ethan in the quiet of a sleepless night.
Aria was sprawled across his bed, fast asleep, eyeliner smudged, her arm draped possessively over his chest. She smelled faintly of alcohol and someone else's cologne, but Ethan ignored it.
Instead, he stared at the ceiling and whispered the words he'd been too afraid to say aloud: If I marry her, she'll stay. She'll change.
It was foolish, he knew. But in the haze of his addiction, it felt like hope.
The next morning, he dragged Daniel to a jewelry shop in town.
Daniel's jaw nearly hit the floor when Ethan pointed to a modest silver ring.
"You can't be serious," Daniel said.
Ethan swallowed hard. "I'm serious."
Daniel stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "Ethan…she cheats on you. She lies to you. She's draining you dry. And you want to marry her?"
Ethan clenched his fists. "Because I love her."
Daniel's voice cracked with frustration. "That's not love—it's chains. You're tying yourself to your own prison."
But Ethan didn't listen. He handed over the money with trembling hands, slipping the small box into his pocket like it was the key to his salvation.
He proposed two weeks later.
It wasn't planned—it never was, with Aria. They were sitting at the coast again, on the same beach where they'd once watched the tide together. The sun was setting, painting the water gold, and Aria was humming a tune Ethan didn't recognize, sipping from a bottle of cheap wine.
"Aria," Ethan said suddenly, his voice catching.
She turned, her dark eyes mischievous. "What is it, poet?"
He pulled the ring from his pocket, his heart hammering. "Marry me."
For once, Aria was silent. Her smirk faded, replaced by something unreadable.
"Ethan…" she whispered. "Are you serious?"
He nodded, eyes wet. "I know I'm not perfect. I know we're messy. But I love you, Aria. More than anything. I don't care about the past, I don't care about mistakes. I just want you. Forever."
For a long moment, she just stared at him. Then she laughed—sharp, startled, disbelieving.
"You're insane," she said.
"Maybe," Ethan admitted, voice shaking. "But I'm insane about you."
Her laughter softened into something like wonder. She plucked the ring from his hand, studying it in the fading light.
"It's small," she teased.
"It's all I could afford."
Aria slipped it onto her finger, admiring it. Then she leaned forward, kissing him hard, her wine-sweet lips silencing his doubts.
"Fine," she whispered against his mouth. "Let's get married, Ethan. Let's burn the world together."
The news spread quickly.
Most people were shocked. Some whispered that Ethan had lost his mind. Daniel refused to speak to him for two weeks.
"You're digging your own grave," Daniel finally told him when they met in the cafeteria. "And you're smiling while you do it."
But Ethan didn't care. For the first time in months, Aria was his completely—no sneaking off, no disappearing acts. She wore the ring proudly, flashing it at her friends, posting it on Instagram with the caption: Guess forever found me after all 💍🔥.
Ethan convinced himself this was proof. Proof that love could win. Proof that Aria could change.
But change never came.
If anything, her behavior grew more reckless.
She still flirted shamelessly at parties, her ring catching the light as she twirled under strangers' arms. She still hid her phone, still whispered into it when she thought Ethan was asleep.
When he confronted her, she waved him off.
"Relax, fiancé," she teased. "You're mine now. Isn't that enough?"
And Ethan, desperate, convinced himself it was.
One night, after too many drinks at an engagement party Aria had insisted on throwing, Ethan found himself slumped in the bathroom, staring at his reflection.
His eyes were hollow, his smile strained, his shoulders heavy with a love that felt more like a chain than wings.
Still, when Aria came in and sat on his lap, whispering, "We're forever now, baby," he kissed her back.
Because forever with her, even in pain, still felt better than a lifetime without her.
Ethan told himself marriage would heal the cracks.
But deep down, he knew the cracks were only growing wider.
And soon, the whole thing would shatter.