I came home from work, tired, expecting nothing unusual.
But the moment I opened the door… something felt off.
There were rose petals on the floor.
At first I thought I was in the wrong house.
Then I followed them into the living room.
And I froze.
The entire room was filled with flowers.
Candles. Soft light. A heart made of petals on the floor.
And in the middle of it…
Stan.
But not the Stan I knew.
He was wearing a perfectly fitted black suit. Clean. Sharp. Confident.
In his hand — a small velvet box.
“Miley,” he said softly, “I think it’s time I stop pretending.”
My heart started racing.
“Where did you get all this?” I asked.
He took a breath.
And then he told me everything.
He wasn’t just some man who fell through the cracks.
He used to own a company.
His brothers had pushed him out — forged documents, took everything, even his identity.
By the time he tried to fight back, he had nothing left.
