When I collapsed in the bathroom from acute appendicitis, Ryan Walker was busy playing video games with Sarah Lee.

When I worked late into the night with a high fever, Ryan went hiking with Sarah to watch the sunset.

When I had a kidney stone attack and my car broke down in the middle of nowhere, Ryan was accompanying Sarah to Comic-Con.

His heart and eyes were filled only with Sarah.

I used to think I could endure it, but not anymore.

I opened my phone and typed in our shared TikTok group: “Ryan Walker, we’re done.”

Hours later, the breakup message remained unread.

Just as I turned off my phone, a WhatsApp group notification popped up with a video.

Sarah and Ryan, still not done drinking, were at a Bar with friends.

Sarah lounged lazily in Ryan’s arms, the backdrop a big red banner that read: Happy Birthday to Me.

She had lost a round of Truth or Dare and was dared to kiss a man for two minutes through a rice paper sheet.

The crowd pushed Ryan toward her, and Sarah lifted her chin proudly, pretending to resist.

“No way! You want me to kiss him? Over my dead body.”

Ryan smirked at her. “If not me, then who?”

Sarah reluctantly tiptoed and hooked her arms around his neck. “Fine. Like being chewed by a pig.”

The two kissed through the paper, clinging to each other so hard they didn’t even notice when the sheet tore.

Minutes later, they rested their foreheads together, panting.

Ryan stroked her lips tenderly, with a depth I had never seen in his eyes before.

Sarah shoved him away, her lip bleeding.

“You bit me, you dog! Get lost.”

Seeing someone recording, she laughed.

“Don’t film this. If Emma sees, she’ll misunderstand again. It’s her birthday today—we promised to wish her well.”

“If she gets jealous, we’ll all be in trouble.”

Ryan didn’t deny it, twirling her hair between his fingers as if to agree.

Just as I typed a response, the video was deleted.

I called to demand an explanation but got nothing but excuses.

“Didn’t I book a restaurant to apologize? Go first, honey, I’ll be there soon.”

I forced a deep breath, trying to steady my trembling voice.

“You didn’t see the message I sent you?”

Ryan sounded confused. “What message?”

A bitter laugh escaped me, my heart clenching tight. Even a breakup message could be ignored when love was gone.

I was about to speak when a woman’s voice came through the phone.

“Honey, something came up here. Gotta go.”

Then the line cut.

Since he hadn’t seen it, I would say it face-to-face.

I put on some makeup and headed to the restaurant Ryan had booked for the fireworks show.

“Hello, do you have a reservation?”

I gave Ryan’s name. The server immediately asked,

“Are you Mrs. Lee?”

I froze, my heart clamped tight by invisible hands. Forcing a stiff smile, I nodded.

The server led me to a seat. I waited from daylight to nightfall. The dishes grew cold and were reheated, over and over.

Ryan never showed. My phone remained silent.

“Would you like me to reheat your meal again, ma’am?”

I shook my head. “No. Just take it away.”

“There’s a fireworks show starting soon, would you like to watch?”

As I stepped out of the restaurant, the sky exploded with fireworks. Three words blazed across the night.

I’m Sorry…

Tears slid silently down my cheeks, a fragile hope flickering in my chest.

“How beautiful! I wonder whose love story this is!”

The final firework spelled out a name—Sarah Lee.

“So that’s her name! Wow, so lucky!”

I turned to stone, my body cold. Behind me came Sarah’s cheerful voice.

“Emma! You’re watching too? Ryan insisted on bringing me, said fireworks were his apology. I’d rather be gaming.”

I stood frozen, my heart squeezed painfully.

She smacked Ryan on the butt.

“Don’t put my name in fireworks. Bad luck!”

“Fireworks are just for little girls like Emma. I don’t like them—they’re boring.”

Ryan asked instinctively, “Then what do you like?”

Before Sarah could answer, a group of kids lit sparklers.

One slipped from a child’s hand, sending sparks raining into the crowd.

Chaos erupted. Sarah and I were knocked to the ground, my head slamming against the pavement as the world spun.

Flames licked my body as sparks set my clothes on fire. The searing pain tore through me.

Then, a sharp kick to my stomach. Warm blood gushed down my thighs, agony ripping me apart.

Barely conscious, I cried out with the last of my strength:

“Ryan… save me… save our baby…”

Ryan hesitated, then turned and lifted Sarah into his arms instead, his choice stabbing me through the heart.

“Honey, I have to save Sarah first. You wait for me…”

It felt like a hammer to my chest. I laughed bitterly. Why even ask the question when I already knew the answer?

At that moment, Sarah whispered her answer to his earlier question.

“Ryan, what I’ve always liked… is you.”

The next thing I heard was the urgent voice of a doctor.

“Quick! The patient’s hemorrhaging—we need surgery now!”

“Call her husband!”

A nurse shouted, “Can’t reach him!”

I whispered weakly, “I’ll sign myself.”

Ryan, we’re truly over.

When I awoke, the nurse’s pitying eyes met mine.

My hand flew to my stomach—empty. The life inside me was gone. My body bore burns, my heart even deeper scars.

I asked the nurse to place the baby in a box for me to keep.

A notification pinged. Sarah had posted on Facebook.

A photo of Ryan kissing the faint scratch on her thigh, tears in his eyes.

Sarah pushed him away in disgust. “Gross!”

I felt nothing. Just calm.

Ryan called, his voice full of guilt.

“Honey, are you okay? I came looking for you, but couldn’t find you.”

“Sarah lost her husband. If I don’t save her, I’ll betray my brother.”

Excuses. Always the same.

“Tomorrow is Sarah’s birthday. You’ll come, right?”

My voice was cold. “No need to explain. I’ll be there—with a gift.”

After leaving the Hospital, I went straight to a Law Firm for divorce consultation.

On Sarah’s birthday, I carried the divorce papers straight to her party.

The entire Mansion was covered in roses, balloons filling the lawn.

Ryan had gone all out for Sarah’s birthday.

Before going in, I started a Live Stream, telling viewers that wishing the hostess a happy birthday would earn them free eggs and corn. Soon, the place was flooded with neighbors.

When the door opened, the floor was littered with torn lingerie and tissues, evidence of the night before.