Chapter 1
On our third anniversary, my boyfriend James Walker finally promised to come with me to Snowhaven to see the snow and the northern lights.
At the gate, he texted that a last-minute business trip had come up and he could not go.
I looked at his ticket, and then boarded the plane alone.
As soon as I landed, I turned my phone back on and found two photos from Susan Lane.
The first showed James wearing an apron and cooking in someone's kitchen.
The second was a mirror selfie of Susan in his white shirt, holding a mug of hot cocoa and showing off her legs.
Her caption read: [Just some period cramps and James is overreacting. Being pampered like this is sweeter than any chocolate.]
Our mutual friends had already filled the comments with heart emojis and cheers.
I stared for a few seconds, and then liked the post and wrote: [With a guy that sweet, it would be a crime if you two did not end up together. I'm officially shipping you. Congrats and best wishes.]
*****
I was a southern girl who'd never seen real snow, so I'd nagged James for months until he finally promised we'd spend our three-year anniversary in Snowhaven.
I swapped every shift I could, burned every vacation day I'd saved, and scraped together a full two weeks off, all so we could hole up in some cabin and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist.
But as boarding time drew closer, James still hadn't shown up.
I called him over and over, but he never picked up. Just as the airport announced boarding for the second time, I finally got a text from him.
He said he had to go on a last-minute business trip and couldn't come with me, but he'd pick me up when I got back.
Even though I was disappointed, I still told him to take care of himself.
I didn't see the flirty pics Susan had posted until my plane touched down and my phone buzzed back to life.
I lost it. I called James and we tore into each other the second he picked up. And, same as always, the minute I said Susan's name, he went full shield-mode.
"We're just mentor and mentee," he snapped. "She felt lousy, so I checked on her. If you didn't freak out every five seconds, maybe I wouldn't have to 'hide' anything."
Before I could say anything back, he hung up and blocked me for good.
I stared at the black screen until it went to sleep, laughed one sour laugh, then showed my boarding pass and walked onto the plane.
Alone in a strange country, I watched the snow fall and chased the polar lights, soaked in the local charm and culture, made some like-minded friends, and wrapped up my two-week adventure.
The day I flew home, James finally pulled me off his block list.
[I'll pick you up tonight,] he texted, like he was granting me a favor. It was the same old tone he always used.
Five years ago, he'd been on the medical team in the disaster zone and dug me out of the rubble. I fell hard for the guy who'd shoved light into my almost-dead eyes.
After three years of dating out of five years of knowing each other, he'd figured out fast how much I treasured the story, and he kept me wrapped around his finger.
Every fight, no matter who started it, ended with me apologizing.
He never tried to soothe anything. If I pushed back, I was suddenly the psycho picking a fight for no reason.
I couldn't stand watching us rot in silence, so I always swallowed my pride and crawled back.
He never noticed the light he once gave me dimming a little more each time he chose Susan and left me hurting.
During those two weeks, I barely thought about him at all.
When his we'll-pick-up-where-we-left-off text landed, it didn't tug at anything. The old me would've cartwheeled, but now I felt only flat, glass-calm water.
[Alright,] I typed back.
Just as I was powering down for takeoff, another bubble popped: [I ordered a cake. We'll make up for our three-year anniversary when you land.]
I didn't reply. I just shut off my phone, pulled on my sleep mask, and blocked out the world.