Seeing me standing there picking up my coat, my brother turned to look at me.

"Dee, where are you going?"

"Just the restroom."

Tristan visibly relaxed.

My brother didn't notice a thing. He just waved me off.

"Always stalling at the worst time. Hurry back, we're cutting the cake soon."

The room's attention had already drifted back to Tristan and Tessa, the golden couple. I smiled and slipped out the door.

The moment I locked myself inside the restroom, I couldn't hold it in anymore. Tears spilled down my face.

By the time I'd pulled myself together and made it back to the private room:

"Doreen, how does it take you that long in the bathroom?"

"We were starting to think you fell in."

Myron teased me with a grin and pushed a plate toward me.

"Eat up. Strawberry cake, your favorite. I saved you a piece."

I looked at the slice of cake, and my eyes stung all over again.

Strawberries and cream, arranged in a delicate little pattern.

Every year on my birthday, Tristan would order strawberry cake from the same bakery and deliver it himself to the foot of my building.

Then, when my brother wasn't around, he'd steal a kiss on my forehead.

He used to say, "Once we go public, I'm ordering you the biggest strawberry cake in the whole city."

But today wasn't my birthday.

It was Tristan's.

This cake had been ordered for him.

"Thanks, Myron." I took the plate and settled back into my corner seat.

The girl next to me leaned over, buzzing with gossip.

"Doreen, you missed it. After you left, Tristan and Tessa drank like three more toasts together, arms linked and everything. The way they were looking at each other? Gave me actual chills."

"You think they're really getting back together?"

I bit into the cake. The strawberry was sour.

"Maybe."

"Weren't you always saying you had a crush on Tristan? How are you not jealous right now?"

I froze for a second, unsure how to answer that.

Eight years ago.

Everyone thought I was just a puppy trailing after Tristan wherever he went.

Even though he'd agreed to date me only two months into my pursuit.

But the relationship had stayed hidden from the very start. No one ever knew.

That one comment steered the whole conversation toward me.

Someone spoke up. "Doreen, you're twenty-seven this year, right? That's not exactly young. How come you still don't have a boyfriend?"

"I mean, your brother's gorgeous. You've got the same genes. There's no way you're short on guys lining up."

"Just don't end up like Tristan over here, perfectly good mouth on him and still single as they come, haha..."

Every pair of eyes in the room landed on me.

Including Tessa's. She watched me with a look that was just a little too thoughtful.

I shook my head with a smile. "I'm not single."

Tristan's head snapped up. His brow furrowed, and he shot me a look.

A warning.

Telling me not to say anything stupid.

On my way to the restroom earlier, I had already told my parents yes. I'd agreed to the marriage.

They'd been setting me up on arranged dates for weeks now.

That was why I'd been pressing Tristan so hard lately.

I'd wanted to bring our relationship into the open, but every answer I got was impatient.

"Just wait a little longer. The timing isn't right."

But I didn't want to wait anymore.

If waiting to the very end still wouldn't give me what I wanted, then it didn't matter who I married.

"Oh? You're not single?"

Someone glanced curiously at my brother, then back at me.

"Little Doreen, you're the youngest one here. Don't go pulling our legs now."

"I bet she's bluffing. If she really had a boyfriend, why not bring him along so we can check him out?"

I spoke up again. "I'm really not joking. I'm getting engaged next month."

Tristan froze. He said he'd assumed I was just making excuses.

My brother chimed in with a grin.

"None of you knew? My little sister moves fast. And with a face like hers, what man wouldn't be wrapped around her finger?"

Tristan stood there, stunned, draining one glass after another.

He cut in abruptly.

"Stop making things up. Your sister's still single. Saying stuff like that will only hurt her reputation."

Then he dragged Myron back to keep drinking.

I sat in the corner, bored, flipping through songs on my phone.

A while later, Tristan suddenly left for the restroom. My phone buzzed. A text from him.

"Come out for a second."

I hesitated, then went.

The moment I reached the hallway outside the restroom, someone grabbed my arm hard and pulled me into a corner.

Tristan's eyes were rimmed red, fixed on me.

"Engaged? You really know how to get under my skin."

"This is just because I didn't kiss you earlier, isn't it? You don't have to be this jealous."

He reached up and gently smoothed my hair, the corner of his mouth lifting as he leaned in to kiss me.

Looking at the face I'd loved for eight years, all I could see was the image of him kissing Tessa, replaying over and over behind my eyes.

My stomach turned violently.

I stiffened and turned my head away.

"I'm not. I don't have the right to be jealous."

Eight years underground. That was what we'd been.

Nobody besides the two of us knew we were together.

Not even Myron, his closest friend, my own brother. Tristan had never once told him.

Every time we met felt like an affair.

I was sick of it. I'd tried again and again to go public.

What girl doesn't want her boyfriend to claim her in front of the whole world?

But every hope fell through, and all that accumulated was disappointment.

"Doreen!"

The smile drained from Tristan's face. "Are you avoiding me?"

"You've had too much to drink."

Just then, Tessa's voice carried over from nearby.

"Where's Tristan? I just saw him right here."

The instant he heard her voice, Tristan let go of my hand.

"Go back inside first."

Tessa had drunk too much. She was outside retching, crying out Tristan's name between heaves.

He glanced over, expression flat, and turned to walk away.

"Tristan, please don't leave me..."

Her sobbing voice stopped him in his tracks.

He exhaled softly. In the end, he caved. He stayed by her side, patting her back now and then.

"Let it out."

"You'll feel better once it's all up."

Then something seemed to occur to him. He scooped Tessa up and set her down on a nearby seat. "Wait here for me."

He jogged off and came back with a bottle in his hand.

"Here. Your favorite. Strawberry."

Tessa blinked, then broke into a teary smile.

"Eight years, and you still remember that I love strawberry."

So the one who loved strawberry had always been Tessa.

That was why he always bought strawberry cake.

Even the scented sachets tucked inside his closet were strawberry.

My eyes burned. I tore my gaze away and walked fast back toward the private room.

The party dragged on until one in the morning.

Tessa was slumped across the table, drunk, her fingers still clutching the hem of Tristan's jacket.

He didn't shake her off. Instead, he slipped his coat from his shoulders and draped it over hers.

And I, his actual girlfriend, sat in the corner watching him take care of another woman.

Nobody around them batted an eye.

"Tristan's still so attentive with Tessa."

"Looks like something's brewing tonight, boys. Should we clear out?"

Tristan lifted his head and glanced at me. Panic flickered in his eyes, along with something close to a plea.

He was begging me not to make a scene.

Not to expose him. Not now.

I lowered my gaze, drained the last sip from my glass, and stood.

"Myron, I'm heading home."

Myron frowned at me. "How much did you drink? Your face is bright red. Let me drive you."

"No need. I already called a ride."

"It's too late for that. I'll have Tristan take you. He barely drank tonight."

Tristan looked up at the mention of his name, about to speak, but Tessa curled drowsily around his arm.

"Tristan, don't go..."

The room erupted in catcalls again.

Myron cleared his throat, visibly awkward. "Forget it. I'll take her myself. You guys keep going."

I followed my brother out of the private room. He walked ahead of me, then stopped and turned around.

"Doreen. Something's off with you tonight."

I looked away. "Is it?"

"Yeah."

Myron turned to face me fully, his eyes locked on mine. "When Tristan kissed Tessa, you cried."

My chest seized. I shook my head quickly. "No, I didn't. Something just got in my eye."

"Cut the crap. I'm your brother. You can fool everyone else, but not me."

Myron's brow creased, his tone turning serious.

"Do you have feelings for Tristan?"

My mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Feelings didn't begin to cover it.

We'd been together for eight years in secret, and he never once had the courage to bring us into the light.

"Doreen, I've warned you before. You can fall for any one of my friends. Anyone except Tristan. He—"

"Myron, stop guessing. I just drank too much and felt sick."

Myron studied me for a long time, then let out a sigh.

"Fine. Get in. I'll take you home."

After I got back, I showered and lay in bed, staring at my phone for a long time. The screen was perfectly still. Not a single message.

Every other late night, Tristan would text to ask if I'd gotten home safe.

Tonight, nothing.

He was busy taking care of Tessa. Why would he spare a thought for me?

Eight years at his side, and the moment his first love walked back in, every bit of it counted for nothing.

So why keep wasting my time?

I hesitated for a long while before I finally typed out a single line and hit send.

"Tristan, let's break up."

The message went through. I powered off my phone, pulled the covers over my head, and forced myself to sleep.

The next morning, the second I turned my phone back on, it blew up.

Over a dozen missed calls from Tristan. More than thirty messages.

The last one read: "I'm downstairs."

I pulled back the curtain. His car was parked below my building.

He was leaning against the driver's side door, smoking.

I hesitated, then went downstairs anyway.

Eight years deserved at least a proper ending.

The moment he saw me come out, Tristan crushed the cigarette and crossed the distance in quick strides.

"Dee, you're finally willing to see me."

"Just hear me out. Last night, I was only—"

I cut him off.

"Tristan, you don't need to explain."

"You got my message last night. We're done."

His head snapped up, shock written plain across his face.

"Dee, is this because of last night? Or because I never went public with us?"

"I told you, last night was just a game. I was only trying to get back at Tessa—"