Chapter 1

At 11:59 PM, "Happy 10th anniversary, girlfriend!" my boyfriend, Ethan Blake, said, his voice full of excitement.

With his charming smile and our friends watching expectantly, I closed my eyes and made a wish as I leaned in to blow out the candles.

At 00:00 AM, Ethan couldn't wait, but still took his time as he carefully untangled the crown from my hair, not even tugging a single strand.

He flashed a roguish grin, his eyes full of mischief. "Happy breakup, ex-girlfriend."

Instantly, the private room erupted with cheers.

"Here we go again. Congrats, Ethan, you're free once more!" someone shouted.

"Place your bets! Get back together? Bet with me. Never getting back together? Bet with Zoey," another voice called out.

Surrounded by neon lights and the chaos of the party, I stayed quietly in my seat, as if none of it had anything to do with me.

As Ethan walked past with his arm around Molly Summers' waist, he said to me, "Same deal as always. One month."

I pressed my hand to my aching lower stomach, not letting it show on my face.

One month? This time the deadline was forever.

I was getting married. It didn't matter who—just not him.

*****

The champagne, shaken up and tossed high into the air, rained down as everyone in the room went absolutely wild, partying like crazy.

They were celebrating Ethan being single again.

One moment, I was the center of attention, making my wish. The next, I faded into the shadows. No one even looked my way.

Ethan was never really a fan of these wild parties. His so-called friends always had to go all out just to get him there.

That was why the annual breakup bash was the highlight of the year.

Ethan and I met in college. He was the rich kid every girl had a crush on. And I was the it girl on campus, just starting to make a name for myself in design.

We were young, reckless, explosive. Our love story was the one everyone talked about on campus.

But after a while, things changed. Someone always got bored first. That was just how it went.

On our fourth anniversary, after I made my wish, Ethan was quiet for a while. Then he finally spoke, "Hazel, we've been together for four years now. Are you getting tired of this?"

Confused, I looked at him, but all I could see was the dark swirl at the crown of his hair—so deep that it felt like it could pull me under.

He pulled me close, gently stroking my arm, his voice soft and persuasive. "To avoid the whole 'seven-year itch' thing, how about we do something? We break up for a month after our anniversary every year. We don't interfere in each other's lives."

"If one of us finds someone better suited, the other gives their blessing. If not, we get back together after a month," he said.

Panicked, I shot up from my seat, knocking over the cake we decorated together. The colorful frosting splattered across the floor, like a haphazard oil painting.

With me gone from his arms, Ethan fidgeted with his hands awkwardly, but still pressed on. "Is that okay?"

Maybe I was just too stunned. My hands and feet felt numb, but pride kept me steady on the outside.

"Fine," I replied.

The moment I agreed, his shoulders relaxed. The tension just melted right out of him.

During that month apart, I couldn't stop watching his every move, comparing myself to the girls around him. Did they hold hands? Hug? Kiss? Anything could be what finally ended us for good.

The stress was so overwhelming that sometimes I'd wake up in the middle of the night, crying uncontrollably.

On the nights I just couldn't take it anymore, I'd call him. He always picked up right away, never got annoyed, never said I was crossing a line.

Instead, he'd tell me silly stories in that gentle voice of his, lulling me to sleep.

"Hazel, do you think a month is too long?" he asked.

The next day, with three days still left on the clock, we got back together.

On our fifth anniversary, I figured he'd drop the whole thing—but nope, he brought it up again.

Now, ten years in, nothing'd changed. Every single year, Ethan insisted we wait the full 30 days before getting back together.

If we were even a minute short, he said it didn't count as a real month.

Over the years, it became a big deal in our circle. Every year, everyone placed their bets. Would we get back together or not?

Even odds if we did. But if we didn't? Hundred to one.

Vera West dropped onto the couch next to me. "Hazel, what did you wish for?"

My wish? That I'd never have to see Ethan again.