“It’s fine. I opened the album earlier and saw bugs crawling inside. Probably cockroaches. So, I burned it.”
Jason froze, finally realizing just how far he’d gone. He took a long, shaky breath before speaking.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry… I was just so anxious. We’ve been collecting photos for this album for ten years. We were going to show them at our wedding. Why did you burn it?”
“If there were bugs, you could’ve waited for me to come back or at least texted me, so I could figure something out,” I said, barely glancing at him.
The man standing in front of me wasn’t the one who had promised to protect me forever.
“I know, I haven’t been home in a while, and I’ve been busy with work. I didn’t want to bother you with something small like this,” he said, his eyes filled with regret as he stared at the fire.
It was all so bitterly ironic. He’d thrown away ten years of our relationship for another woman, and now he was standing there pretending to be the caring, devoted partner?
I turned to walk inside, but he grabbed my arm, pulling me into his embrace. The sickly sweet scent of his black orchid cologne made my nose twitch, but he wouldn’t let go.
“Did you catch a cold? I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy lately and I’ve been neglecting you. Once I’m free in a couple of days, we’ll retake all the photos. We’ll replace the ones that burned. We’ll even take twice as many!”
In the past, those words might’ve been enough to make me forgive him. But after everything, especially after being rushed to the ER, I couldn’t fall for it anymore.
He’d even ignored my life-threatening allergy for the sake of another woman. I wasn’t going to kid myself about this relationship any longer.
I yanked my arm free from his grip. “You don’t need to apologize. If you really feel bad, why don’t you make it up to me with a birthday party?”
My cream allergy had always kept me from fully enjoying my own birthday celebrations. But now, I was leaving in two days, and I wanted just one last chance to experience it with him.
Panic flashed across Jason’s face, and I could see the unease creeping in. He nodded quickly, about to speak when his phone rang.
He glanced at the caller ID and hastily said, “Something came up at work. I need to handle it. Don’t wait up for me tonight, okay? I promise I’ll make it up to you. Don’t overthink things.”
He didn’t even give me a chance to respond before walking away, his steps quickening as he disappeared into the distance. I didn’t even need to confront him; I knew who was on the other end of that call. Yvonne.
But I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to.
The next morning, the party decorators arrived. And of course, Yvonne showed up too. She said she’d designed the party layout herself and was here to supervise. By the end of the day, it was obvious, this wasn’t my birthday party. It was just a stripped-down version of hers.
After the workers left, Yvonne approached me, smugness practically radiating off her.
“Rachel, everyone worked hard today. What do you think? Is it up to your standards?”
I noticed the necklace I had lost, now hanging around her neck. My voice was as sharp as ice. “Secondhand stuff suits you just fine. Keep it.”
Her eyes darted sideways before she grabbed a crystal ornament from the cabinet and smashed it to the floor. She screamed as the shards cut her foot, and before I could react, Jason slapped me across the face.
“Haven’t you had enough?” he yelled. “Yvonne took time off work to help decorate for your party. What’s wrong with you? If you don’t like it, then decorate it yourself!”
He didn’t give me the chance to explain. He stormed out, Yvonne in his arms, and they both disappeared into the night.
I sat on the couch, numb, surrounded by the chaos of the party decorations that felt more like a mockery than a celebration. By morning, no one had shown up.
Jason had been my only friend for the past ten years.
When the birthday cake arrived, I unwrapped it and cut myself a small slice. I stuck a tiny candle in it, closed my eyes, and made a wish. I wished to never see him again.
But because of my allergy, I still couldn’t eat the cake.
As the countdown clock ticked down and my phone buzzed with reminders, I grabbed my suitcase and left without a second glance.
On the way to the airport, I sent Jason a final message.
“Let’s end things here. Don’t contact me again.”
With that one message, I said goodbye to ten years of my life.
Before I turned off my phone to board the plane, Jason’s calls began flooding in. But I wasn’t listening anymore.
