The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

It was supposed to be a romantic night, the night my boyfriend finally proposed.

As I stood under the fireworks, wedged between my boyfriend and my sister Natalie, I grew annoyed again at the fact that she and her best friend had invited themselves along on our romantic Vegas getaway.

I pictured the ring I had accidentally found in my boyfriend’s backpack the week before. His hand was fiddling with something. Is that a ring box or are you just excited to see me?

As the grand finale of fireworks began, he turned to me. “Hazel?”

“Yes?”

“Will you…,” he hesitated, looking behind me. “Uh, will you excuse me?”

He pushed past me to where Natalie stood. He got down on one knee. “Natalie, I know this is crazy, but…. will you marry me?”

“Oh my god,” Natalie and I both said at the same time.

Natalie burst into tears. “Yes!”

My brain struggled to comprehend what my eyes were seeing: my boyfriend putting what should have been my ring on my sister’s finger, my sister happy–crying and pulling him in for a kiss, my hands shoving my boyfriend’s arm with all the strength I could muster.

“What the hell!” I yelled, looking back and forth between him and Natalie.

“Hazel, I’m sorry, I just..” he started.

“Oh yeah? You’re sorry? Get bent.” I flipped them both off and turned, hot tears streaming down my face. I ran as fast as I could through the crowd. I wanted to get as far way from them as I possibly could.

“Hazel, wait!” my boyfriend called after me, but it was too late.

I was already gone.

They say hangovers don’t last forever, but drunk memories do.