He Swore He Hated Seafood, So Why Did His Lips Taste Like Oysters? - Chapter 98: Chapter 98

Back at the hotel, Ryan bounced back from his emotions with surprising speed.
He casually helped me put away my bag, thoughtfully turning up the air conditioning.
I sat on the bed scrolling through the photos Carly had just sent, zooming in: "This girl's photography is really good, don't you think?"
Ryan paused while organizing clothes, asking with forced casualness: "How do you know this photographer?"
"Friend's recommendation," I said without looking up. "The same one who gave me the concert tickets."
His breathing lightened slightly: "Which friend? I don't think I know them."
"New client," I said offhandedly while scrolling my phone. "I'll introduce you sometime."
Ryan suddenly came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, warm lips urgently pressing against my neck.
"Babe, it's been so long since we... I want..."
His heartbeat was heavy and fast, like he was seeking some kind of confirmation.
"Stop it..." I coughed lightly, pushing him away. "The wind was so strong today, I think I'm catching something."
He immediately let go, worry flashing in his eyes: "I'll make you some medicine."
Watching his hurried departure, I opened Instagram and carefully selected nine photos Carly had shot.
Caption: "Met an amazing photographer! Way better technique than SOMEONE~"
Less than three minutes after posting, Carly's account had a new update.
No photos, just one short line:
[I still couldn't help myself. I miss you so much.]
I turned off my screen as I heard Ryan approaching with the medicine.
"Drink it while it's hot," his voice was gentle. "Tomorrow's the concert—you need to be in good shape."
I took the cup, smiling: "You too."
Deep into the night, the medicine couldn't put me to sleep—I was more awake than ever.
Like it was giving me the final push to make my decision.
In the darkness, I heard Ryan quietly get up and slip out the door.
I opened my eyes, checking my phone: 1:23 AM.
Outside, the occasional car passed by, making the night feel endless.
At 5 AM, I finally heard the door lock turn.
Ryan crept back in, carrying the scent of night rain and a faint trace of familiar perfume.
Very familiar—I'd smelled it just that afternoon.
Who he'd gone to see was crystal clear.
He stood in the shower for ages, water running constantly.
When he finally slipped back into bed, dawn was already breaking on the horizon.
I lay with my back to him, eyes open until sunrise.
The night of the concert, Ryan was unusually nervous.
His right hand stayed buried in his pocket, spine rigid.
I didn't care, swaying freely to the music, singing along at the top of my lungs in the deafening sound.
Funny thing—going to a concert with Ryan had been my dream from our first year together.
We'd fallen for the same artist back when Ryan had just been transferred away from my city for six months.
At 3 AM, we'd hide under covers talking on the phone, the same song playing in both our earbuds.
"Del, we HAVE to see his concert together."
"Deal! We'll see who can sing better."
"Who's gonna judge?"
"Me, duh!"
"You're such a cheater, Delilah."
"Ryan..."
"Yeah?"
"I miss you."
Snapping back to reality, that familiar melody started again.
"Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you."
The lyrics punched a hole in my heart, and tears just wouldn't stop, streaming down onto my hands.
Ryan panicked and leaned close, raising his voice over the noise.
"What's wrong?"
I turned to look at him, letting tears cover my face: "Ryan, when my mom was dying, you promised at her bedside that you'd love me and take care of me forever..."
"...do you remember?"
Ryan's expression froze for a moment, then he immediately spoke.
"Of course I remember."
I remember too.
I remember those sleepless nights when you'd hold me tight and say, "Don't be scared, Del. Your mom and I will always be here for you."
I remember when I got stubborn, you'd run all over the city at midnight to find me the last box of strawberries. Those strawberries were actually sour, but my heart was sweet as honey.
I remember when your heart and eyes were filled with me—that's how I can tell so clearly that you don't love me anymore.
Love flows and moves, no reasons needed.
I accept that you don't love me anymore.
But Ryan, you shouldn't have lied to me.
The music shifted then, a melody about love slowly filling the venue.
Ryan took a deep breath. His right hand slowly emerged from his pocket, shaking so badly he could barely hold the velvet box.
Ryan stood up, trembling as he took out the ring, carefully pinning a veil in my hair, and dropped to one knee.
The camera scanning the crowd stopped on us.
He gripped my hand with shaking fingers, voice hoarse.
"Del, remember five years ago in that hospital hallway, I promised your mom I'd take care of you forever. Even then, I knew I only wanted to protect your smile for the rest of my life."
"Remember last winter when you had a 103-degree fever but insisted on finishing your article? I stayed up all night watching you curled up at your computer, and I thought—I want to make sure you never have to struggle like that again."
His voice grew more choked up.
"I know I'm not romantic enough, can't say pretty words. But I want to spend my life proving that every morning when you open your eyes, every night when you say goodnight—it'll always be me."
He held up the ring with trembling hands:
"Delilah Parker, will you... let me be the one who grows old with you?"
"MARRY HIM! MARRY HIM!"
Cheers erupted from all directions, waves of sound getting louder and louder.
Ryan's lips curved slightly, waiting for my reaction.
But when he looked up, all he saw was my expressionless face.
He sensed something was wrong, his smile getting stiff.
"Am I... rushing things?"
He forced a smile, "Del, if you're not ready, I can wait."
"Did I do something wrong? I can change anything..."
As the cheers around us grew wilder, I slowly reached up and removed the veil.
Everything went dead silent.
I opened my phone and held up that video of Ryan stroking the girl's hair.
"What about HER?"