For my birthday, my boyfriend bought only a few pieces of egg cake and some candles.

He said birthday cakes were a trap dreamed up by capitalist marketing, and we'd be better off saving the money for a house.

It stung, but I agreed.

Then, on the day itself, my best friend breezed in, plopped down right between the two of us, and tugged at my arm, all sweet and coaxing.

"Your boyfriend is such a keeper, spending eight thousand to help me rent a place. Getting to sleep in every morning is just the best!"

My mouth opened, but nothing came out.

To get to the office, I woke up at six, rode the electric scooter twenty minutes, transferred three times on the subway, all because Tristan Swanson said living where we did saved us two thousand a month in rent.

Ding! I glanced down at my phone.

Your bank card ending in 8744 has transferred $400,000 to Cecily Fox. Balance: $400,000.

Tristan had wired every cent of the down payment we'd saved together straight to my best friend.

I looked up, unable to believe it.

He set a peeled shrimp into Cecily's bowl and said, light as anything,

"Oh, that. It's to help fund her grad school."

"We can always buy a house later. Cecily won't have any income while she's studying. Why don't you chip in for her too?"

I looked down at my pajamas, washed so many times the color had faded out of them, and all at once I felt like this ten-year relationship wasn't worth keeping.

"Sure. I'll go withdraw everything in my account right now."

Take out all the money, and cancel any future with him while I was at it.

——

"See, I told you Wallis Cobb always knows the bigger picture. She was bound to agree. Guess you lost the bet."

Watching Cecily glow with delight, Tristan tapped the tip of her nose with his finger, doting.

Cecily made a fuss about getting him back, and, refusing to let it go, grabbed his shoulder and bit down.

"Yes, yes, yes, I underestimated Wallis. Buying a house is her biggest wish, after all."

"That didn't hurt, did it? Because if it did, our Wallis is going to be upset with me."

As they said it, they both turned to look at me,

only to find me sitting there alone, calmly eating my dinner.

Seeing that I wasn't losing my temper the way I had before,

Tristan looked oddly deflated, then said,

"Wallis, you've finally learned to behave. I thought you'd throw a fit like last time. Who knew this birthday would make you grow up a little."

Last time he meant the class reunion, when he and Cecily played Truth or Dare and kissed through a thin plastic card. I'd furiously accused him of having no sense of boundaries, and he'd snapped at me instead, calling me a sore loser, shrieking like a lunatic.

I'd cried until there were no tears left, and in the end I was the one who made peace.

But right now, I honestly felt nothing. It mattered less than the meal in front of me.

I was about to speak

when Cecily gave a little shriek.

Her chair slipped out from under her, and she knocked the small ceramic figurine off the table.

The two little ceramic figures, once locked in an embrace, split apart down the middle.

Tristan lunged to steady Cecily before I could move,

then said, his face tight with worry,

"Wallis, don't make a scene. I'll just buy you another one."

That pair of ceramic figures, wrapped in each other's arms, was the gift Tristan gave me the day we made it official.

"No need. Broken is broken."

I didn't even want the man anymore, so why would I care about a pair of ceramic figures?

Tristan opened his mouth, then thought better of it.

Cecily let out an ow, saying her back hurt,

and Tristan instantly turned to rub it for her.

I dabbed my mouth without hurrying, and stood up.

"You two eat. I'm going to withdraw the money."

I put on my coat and went to the entryway to change my shoes,

when Tristan's hesitant voice drifted over,

"You haven't had your birthday cake yet. Make a wish before you go."

There was no birthday cake.

Just a few pieces of egg cake and candles from the supermarket.

But every year on Cecily's birthday, he ordered her the most expensive cake he could find, switching brands each time just to keep it new.

I didn't reply again.

I shut the door and walked straight down the stairs in one breath.

The deep-winter air stung until my eyes went red at the rims.

Passing a trash can,

I worked the ring I'd worn for ten years off my finger,

and dropped it in.

A $2 promise ring with free shipping, and yet for all those years I'd treasured it like something precious.

I took a cab to the bank and pulled out every cent on my card just before closing.

Then I opened a new card and put the money into that instead.

Once that was done, I took another cab to the biggest mall in Northport.

First I went to the brand-name bakery on the ground floor and picked out the most expensive cake they had,

then I ordered a full set menu at the hot pot place.

The staff gathered around and sang me happy birthday. I cut the cake and saved the biggest slice for myself.

When I got home,

Tristan called on video to inform me:

"There's a homeless guy hanging around near Cecily's place, and she's just a little thing who scares easily. I won't be coming home to sleep tonight."

Cecily looped her arms around his neck, grinning.

"Wallis, you always spoil me the most. Tonight I'm putting your boyfriend on my couch to stand guard over a damsel in distress!"

She knew, too, that I spoiled her the most. Seven years of friendship, and I'd never once turned down anything she asked.

Tristan toyed with Cecily's hand and reminded me to lock the doors and windows on my own.

Cecily patted his cheek.

"Relax, my Wallis is the bravest of anyone!"

I'm not actually brave.

When we first moved out to the suburbs, there were a few nights I got off work too late and someone followed me home. Terrified, I cried about it to Tristan, and he said I made a fuss over nothing, jumping at shadows. In the end I had to order pepper spray and a little stun gun online myself and carry them every day.

I even comforted myself that he just wasn't the delicate type, that he didn't know how to worry over people.

But it turned out it wasn't that he couldn't worry over people. He just couldn't be bothered to worry over me.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my chest and pulled up a smile.

"Right, I'm brave. You two do whatever you like."

Then I hung up on them while they stared, stunned.

I started taking stock of the birthday gifts Tristan had given me over the years.

A red string bracelet from a street stall, a phone case that shipped free, cheap knockoff earbuds.

He said our Wallis was the practical sort, that instead of buying flashy junk we should save the money for a house.

Yet the moment it was Cecily's birthday, he'd given her a Van Cleef & Arpels signature bracelet, the full SK-II skincare line, and the newest iPhone Pro Max in the 1TB version.

Shocked and furious, I'd confronted him, and he'd cupped my face and said,

"Baby, being good to your best friend is only to give you face."

"See how much thought I put in for you? Why don't you chip in some money too, so I can buy the gifts."

I threw every one of those cheap gifts into the trash,

then calmly dialed my father's number.

"That arranged match you mentioned before, I agree. I'll come back to Harbor City to meet him."

On my way to work the next day, a local video popped up in my feed.

Shot from a bystander's angle, inside an LV store, Tristan attentively helping his best friend try on a bag.

The caption read: Such a sweet couple! Who's the 6'2" lean, hot guy she's dating?!

So it turned out that while I was spending my birthday night alone, he was out shopping with my best friend.

I stared at that video over and over, and in the end I gave it a like.

At the office, I told my manager I was quitting, agreeing to leave in a week.

Back at my desk, a work friend I got along with cradled her water cup and asked quietly,

"Why'd you suddenly decide to leave? Weren't you just saying yesterday you wanted to save up to buy your boyfriend a computer?"

The video of strangers gushing about the sweet couple flashed through my mind.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth, though no smile reached my eyes.

"He's already someone else's boyfriend now. So naturally there's nothing for me to buy."

An hour before I got off work, Tristan called.

"Is something going on with you today?"

"No. Why?"

"Then how come you haven't texted or called me?"

I let out a dry laugh.

The truth was, I hadn't thought about him once all day.

The old me couldn't have stood it for a single moment if he stayed out overnight at another woman's place. I'd have called him crying, refused to let it go.

"Did you need something?" I shot back.

Tristan's voice turned awkward.

"Don't take the subway. I'll come pick you up after work."

Ever since he bought the car, he'd never once given me a ride, claiming I needed to keep a low profile at work. He always seemed to have time to drop Cecily off, though, "since it was on the way."

"Oh. Sure."

When I opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat,

Tristan was staring at his phone, typing, a sweet smile on his face, not even lifting his head.

My father called, and I answered right there.

He asked whether I'd finished arranging my resignation, and when I'd be coming back.

"It's all set. A week from now works."

After I hung up, Tristan finally set down his phone and looked up.

"A week from now works for what?"

"Nothing."

I brushed aside a piece of pink lace lingerie on the passenger seat, picked up a book, and started flipping through it.

Tristan scrambled to clean everything up,

stumbling over his words as he explained,

"You know how it is. Cecily's a little scatterbrained."

I nodded vaguely and said nothing.

Then he fumbled with the stereo and put on music, English songs, the kind Cecily liked.

He skipped one track, still an English song. Skipped again, same thing.

"Don't bother. Anything's fine," I said, impatient.

Tristan's hand froze, the smile locked on his face.

"Wallis, you seem different. You always used to care most about this kind of thing."

I was about to reply when his phone rang.

He took the call, then hesitated before telling me to get out.

"Cecily's cramping, it's her time of the month. I have to go buy her some medicine. You've always felt for her, right?"

I drew in a deep breath and stared straight at him.

"Tristan, do you still remember whose boyfriend you are?"

He flushed with shame and turned it into anger.

"What does that have to do with whose boyfriend I am! Wallis, when did you get so vicious?"

"I said, get out! Don't keep Cecily waiting!"

Of course. When you talk to someone who doesn't love you, every word is a waste of breath.

I got out without a word, and the car peeled off at once.

It was already past ten at night when Tristan got home.

He handed me a little cake with a grin.

"Don't be mad, baby."

Sea-salt cheese cake with crushed peanuts.

Cecily's favorite flavor.

I glanced at him.

"I'm allergic to peanuts."

The kind of allergy that can kill you if it's bad enough.

His expression changed dramatically.

"I'm sorry, I forgot…"

This was the man who used to pick every last sprig of cilantro out of my food, and now he'd forgotten I was allergic.

As if to make up for it, he pulled out a gift box,

said it was a present he and Cecily had gotten together to make up for the missed occasion.

I looked down. An LV silk scarf lay quietly inside,

as if mocking the ten years of real feeling I'd wasted.

I gave a sarcastic little smile, pulled up the video I'd liked that morning, and showed it to him.

His face went red, then green.

"Cecily's in grad school, she deserves a nice bag. Do you really have to compete with her?"

"Take the scarf or leave it, I don't care!"

He spun away in a huff to shower, slamming the bathroom door hard enough to rattle it.

His phone buzzed where he'd left it on the couch. I glanced down.

【Cutest Cecily in the Universe: Is it okay to give Wallis the freebie? I really do love that bag, though.】

【Tristan: It's fine. The freebie cost money too. It's more than good enough for her.】