Chapter 1
The day Alina Slater, the college student my boyfriend, Jonah Forbes, was sponsoring, came over for dinner, I served her some spicy chicken wings.
Jonah reached over and blocked Alina's plate.
"Alina, you can't eat spicy food these days," he said.
Alina's cheeks flushed. She whispered, "Jonah, how do you remember everything?"
Jonah smiled. "You're not in the best shape, so I have to keep an eye on you."
My hand froze mid-air.
Today was my birthday, too.
Jonah didn't get me a cake, a gift, or even say "Happy Birthday."
After dinner, Alina said her hair was getting in the way while she was washing dishes.
Jonah took a light pink hair tie off his wrist and handed it to her.
I looked at the hair tie and suddenly laughed.
I'd had short hair for three years.
Alina tied up her hair and turned to me, pouting playfully. "Wendy, don't be upset. Jonah is super attentive."
Jonah frowned at me. "She's young. Don't always take it so seriously."
I nodded.
Then, right in front of them, I canceled the tickets for the romantic trip I'd booked.
When the verification code popped up, Jonah finally met my eyes.
I set my phone face down on the table and said softly, "Don't worry. I'm not going to make a scene about her this time.
"I'm making a scene about you."
*****
Jonah glared at my phone lying on the table, his expression darkening bit by bit.
"What's that supposed to mean, Wendy?" he demanded.
I slipped my phone into my bag and replied, "I meant what I said."
He pressed, "So you canceled our trip just because Alina had dinner here?"
His voice was low, but I could hear the anger simmering beneath the surface. Alina stood by the sink, still clutching my bowl, her eyes already rimmed with tears.
I looked straight at Jonah and said, "That trip was supposed to be my birthday present."
He paused, stunned. That was the moment he finally realized what day it was.
Alina quickly set the plate down, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her apron.
"Wendy, I'm really sorry. I had no idea it was your birthday. If I'd known, I wouldn't have come at all," she said.
I looked at her and didn't say a word.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
Last year, when I posted about my birthday on social media, she liked it and even commented: [Hope you always stay happy, Wendy.]
She didn't forget. She just wanted to see if she could outdo me in front of Jonah for once.
Jonah frowned. "She already said she's sorry. What more do you want from her?"
I stood up and grabbed my coat from the back of the chair.
"I don't want anything," I replied flatly.
"If you really don't care, then why'd you cancel the tickets right in front of her?" he shot back.
"I canceled my own ticket."
"That trip was meant for both of us."
I looked at him and said, "Not anymore."
Alina rushed forward.
"Wendy, let me go get you a cake right now! Tell me what flavor you want. I'll get it right away," she said.
She fumbled with her apron, trying to take it off in a hurry, but before she could even manage it, tears were already streaming down her face.
Jonah put a hand on her shoulder.
"No need. Just sit down," he said.
Jonah turned to face me. "Don't embarrass her, Wendy."
I put on my coat and said, "She's not the one who should be embarrassed."
The living room went quiet for a moment.
Jonah's expression shifted. "It's only a birthday. Why can I make it up to you another day?"
Hearing that, I suddenly lost the urge to explain anything.
He knew that birthdays were important. However, he assumed I would never leave over something so insignificant.
I walked over to the front door to put on my shoes.
Jonah followed, stopping between the living room and the entryway.
He said, "Wendy, if you walk out that door today, don't regret it."
Alina called out softly from behind him, "Jonah, don't do this. Wendy is upset."
I put my hand on the doorknob and looked back at him.
"Remember these words, Jonah. One day, you'll say them back to me," I said.
Right before the door closed, I heard Alina, her voice trembling with tears, say, "It's all my fault, Jonah. Go after her."
Jonah didn't come after me.
The elevator stopped on the twentieth floor for a few seconds. I stared at my reflection in the metal doors. My lipstick was still perfect, my hair was still neat.
This morning, before I left, I'd been debating whether to show Jonah the photo album in my bag tonight.
Inside that album was a travel itinerary for a coastal city. On the very last page, I'd written a single sentence.
After we get back from our birthday trip, let's get married.
When the elevator reached the first floor, I put my phone on silent.
Jonah's message popped up almost immediately.
Jonah: [Come back when you're done with your drama.]
I read it and deleted the message.
A taxi pulled up at the entrance of the apartment complex. I opened the door and gave the driver the address of a nearby hotel.
"Just you?" the driver asked.
"Yeah," I replied.
As the car pulled away, the light in the window upstairs was still on.
I didn't look back.
The hotel receptionist asked, "How many nights will you be staying?"
"Three nights for now," I replied.
After getting my room key, I went inside, set my bag on the table, and sent a message to the wedding photography studio.
Me: [Cancel my appointment. Just handle the deposit like the contract says.]
The customer service rep replied almost instantly, asking if I wanted to reschedule.
Me: [No need.]
Next, I unlinked the joint account I shared with Jonah.
We'd opened that account two years ago, planning to use it when we got married. Every month, I'd transfer some money in, and Jonah would too. He liked to call it our "shared plan."
When I hit the unlink button, the system asked if I was sure.
I clicked confirm.
Third, I canceled the reservation at the beachfront hotel.
Fourth, I checked my inbox and spotted an invitation from the project lead, sent a week ago.