Roxanne deleted the video files from her computer, then dialed her father.

“Dad,” she said, forcing her voice to stay even. “I’ve been thinking…I’ll go to that blind date.”

There was a pause on the other end. “What about your boyfriend—the one and only man you’ll love?”

She swallowed hard, her voice light and breezy like nothing was wrong. “Yeah. I was dumb to ever fall for him. I see it now.”

“Okay,” Mr. Holbrook let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll find you a man a thousand times better than him, that’s handsome, smart, kind—all qualities that you fancy. Forget that heartbreaker boy and move on.”

Her throat tightened. She nodded through the tears. “Okay.”

“Don’t cry, okay? It’s your birthday!” His tone softened. “Did you get my present?”

“I did. I love it.”

After a few more words of comfort, he finally hung up.

Roxanne sat for a moment, staring at the custom-made amethyst bracelet on her wrist. She snapped a picture and posted it on social media.

[Love the birthday gift, Dad. Thank you.]

Her father liked the post immediately. Other friends and family followed with birthday wishes.

But there was nothing from Vincent.

Every other year, he was always the first to say happy birthday.

Feeling a little hollow, she was about to close the app when she saw a new post from him.

[Welcome home, Courtney.]

The photo showed him at the airport, arms wrapped around Courtney Buzolic.

[She’s back? You must be over the moon now that she’s back.] 

[Of course, he’s over the moon. She’s his first and true love.]

His friends wrote in the comment sections.

Roxanne’s hand trembled.

She’d asked him countless times to post a picture of them together, just once. Show the world he was proud of her. He always refused.

Said he didn’t like posting on social media.

But clearly, it wasn’t about that.

He just didn’t want to post her.

She liked the post.

Then left a comment.

[His true love’s back? Then I guess it’s time the stand-in made her exit.]

Minutes later, the post vanished. Vincent didn’t explain. Didn’t text. Didn’t call.

It was like he never made that post.

A while later, a message popped up on her phone.

[Half an hour. Same place. See you there.]

“The same place” meant the restaurant called ‘The Meet’. It was where Vincent had first told her he loved her.

They’d spent every anniversary, every Valentine’s Day there since.

Roxanne’s heart skipped.

Maybe he hadn’t forgotten her birthday after all? Hope—a quiet, desperate kind—bubbled up in her chest as she drove there.

The private dining room door was cracked open.

Just as she reached for the handle, she heard a woman’s voice from inside.

“Vincent, are you really giving me this restaurant?!” Roxanne gasped.

Vincent replied, his voice soft and nostalgic. “Do you remember? This is where we always meet. I bought this place just to mark that day. No one else deserves it but you.”

Roxanne felt her whole world tilt. All those moments she thought were special—were they even about her? Was she just a proxy for someone else?

Her hand shook as she gripped the door and forced herself to breathe.

Then she pushed it open.

Vincent turned, startled. “Roxanne? What are you doing here?”

Like he didn’t expect her at all.

She frowned. “You ask me to come.”

Courtney tossed her hair with a smirk. “Sorry, that was me. I heard Vincent’s girlfriend looked like me and I was curious. Figured I’d invite you over myself. Hope you don’t mind.”

Her tone said “sorry,” but her eyes were full of challenge.

Roxanne didn’t blink. “I do mind. So… apologize!”

The bluntness of her words made both Vincent and Courtney freeze.

Courtney’s eyes welled up instantly. “Vincent, I’m sorry. I didn’t think your girlfriend would get upset over something so small…”

“Roxy, you’re being ridiculous,” Vincent cut in, his expression darkening. “Courtney just wanted to meet you. Why blow it out of proportion? Apologize to her. Now.”

Roxanne’s jaw tightened.

“Tell me, Vincent—am I really overreacting, or is it just that your heart isn’t in the same place anymore?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, so no. I’m not apologizing.”

Suddenly, Courtney stood up and grabbed her wrist firmly. “Roxanne, don’t be mad. I’ll apologize, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Roxanne instinctively yanked her arm back.

And in that moment, Courtney lost her balance and crashed to the floor.

A snapping sound echoed through the room, followed by the sharp clatter of crystal pieces scattering across the floor.

Roxanne’s eyes widened. She dropped to her knees, scooping up the shattered remains of her crystal bracelet. Her fingers trembled as she held them up.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

She could feel it—Courtney had tugged on the bracelet as she went down, pulling it hard like she meant to break it.

“I didn’t!” Courtney’s voice trembled, eyes glassy. “Roxanne, just because you’re jealous doesn’t mean you get to throw accusations around. I really just tripped…”

Then, as if gathering courage, she added with a shaky smile, “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back. How much is it?”

Roxanne’s cheeks flushed with fury. “How much? Do you even know that—”

“I’ll pay it, alright?” Vincent cut. He stepped in, helping Courtney up. His face was unreadable as he pulled out his checkbook and started writing. “One million. That enough?”

Roxanne gritted her teeth. “Not even close.”

That bracelet was a birthday gift from her dad. No amount of money could replace it.

Without looking at her, Vincent ripped out a blank check and threw it at her. “Fill in whatever you want. You’re losing it over a broken bracelet.”

Roxanne stumbled to her feet, her voice cold and steady. “That ‘broken bracelet’ was a birthday gift from my father.”

Vincent froze, looking away awkwardly.

“Why didn’t you say it was from your dad?”

Roxanne let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, I did. I posted it in my socials. Everybody saw it wished me a happy birthday.”

Caught off guard, Vincent actually tried to explain himself. “I was busy today. Didn’t have time to check social media.”

“Right,” she said icily. “Busy picking up your long-lost darling from the airport. Who has time to care about their girlfriend’s birthday?”

“Don’t mind it. It’s just a joke. They love trolling in my account,” Vincent’s expression tightened. “And besides, I’ve known Courtney for over a decade. If something were going to happen between us, it would’ve happened already. You think she’d still be single if she was interested in me?”

Roxanne let out a laugh, more amused than angry now.

“Maybe she is still single because she thinks you’re not good enough.”

Vincent’s eyelid twitched. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Roxanne smiled faintly. “Don’t mind it. Just a joke.”

And with that, she grabbed the check and walked out. She moved quickly, almost like she needed the momentum to push out the bitterness building in her chest.

Back home, she went straight to her studio and pulled out her sketchbook. Ninety-nine pages. Every single one filled with sketches of Vincent. She had planned to give it to him as a wedding present. Now, what a joke that felt like.

She tossed the book into a metal bin and lit a match.

The flames caught fast, the paper curling in seconds. As the fire grew, so did the flood of memories.

Vincent carrying her on his back through rain-soaked streets…

Vincent holding her close at the top of the Ferris wheel, whispering forever…

Vincent staying up all night to take care of her when she was sick…

The fire roared, devouring each memory page by page.

All the love she’d carefully painted onto each sheet—gone. Turned to ash.

So were the memories. And so was her heart.

Vincent didn’t get home until ten that night, dragging his suitcase behind him.

Courtney followed close behind, carrying a cake box like a trophy.

She opened it with a bright, innocent smile. “Roxanne, don’t stay mad. Vincent remembered today’s your birthday. See? He ordered you a cake.” 

Roxanne’s eyes fell on the box.

It was cherry mousse—her favorite.

But the once elegant dessert was now a collapsed mess, the sides caved in, the top slanted, almost unrecognizable.

“Oh no! I’m such a klutz!” Courtney gasped, her tone laced with fake concern. She glanced around with wide eyes and added, “It’s too late now—all the bakeries are closed. Roxanne, would you mind making do with this one?”

Roxanne said nothing. She simply stared at Courtney with a cold, unreadable expression.

Vincent rubbed his nose awkwardly. “I’ll get you a new one tomorrow.”

He pulled out a small jewelry box from his pocket.

“Here, I got you something.” Inside was a diamond bracelet. It sparkled beautifully. 

“Do you like it?” he asked.

Roxanne didn’t smile. Because the necklace from the same collection—worth ten times more—was glinting proudly around Courtney’s neck.

Oblivious, Vincent started fastening the bracelet around her wrist. “Amethyst breaks too easily. I got you a better one. Diamond.”

He didn’t even glance at her face.

“Oh, since Courtney’s just back in town, she hasn’t found a place yet, so I told her she could stay here for a few days.”

“Actually,” he added, “give her the master bedroom. Her allergies get bad if the room’s not cleaned properly. The guest room won’t work for her.”

Of course. He didn’t even remember Roxanne had asthma.

She yanked her hand back. “I don’t care if you want to give her your spot. I’m not moving from my room.”

Vincent’s expression turned stormy. “You know I can’t sleep in other room.”

“Oh, that sounds like a you problem,” Roxanne said nonchalantly. 

He stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “You serious? You’re fine with me and Courtney sharing a room?”

Even though she’d already decided to let him go, those words still stung.

She forced her voice to stay calm. “Do what you want.”

Apparently, that wasn’t the reaction he expected. His jaw tightened in frustration.

Courtney tugged at his sleeve gently, her voice soft and shaky. “It’s okay, Vincent. I can just take the guest room. I’ll be fine.”

“No,” his voice sharp. “You’ll stay with me in the second bedroom.”

Vincent grabbed her hand, shouldered past Roxanne and headed toward the spare room.

As he walked away, he tossed a cold line over his shoulder. “You pushed me to this, Roxanne.”

She stood there, still and quiet, watching him walk away.

She counted.

Twenty steps.

That’s how long it took for Vincent to walk away and slam the bedroom door.

And when he did, something in her finally snapped loose.

There was no more pain. Just disgust.

Later that night, she woke up groggy and thirsty. On her way to the kitchen, she caught voices drifting from the other bedroom.

Courtney’s voice, sharp and whiny: “Why don’t we just send her to Possum Hollow? Let the locals knock the attitude out of her. She’s rude, feeling entitled—I can’t stand her.”

“No,” Vincent shot back without a beat of hesitation.

Courtney sniffled dramatically. “What’s going on with you, Vincent? First, you deleted my post after she commented on it. Then you buy her gifts, a birthday cake. Don’t tell me you’re falling for her?”

Roxanne froze, holding her breath.

“Of course not,” Vincent’s voice came after a pause, low and irritated, “I’m just trying to avoid pushing her too far. If she changes her mind about the engagement, the whole plan goes up in smoke. Your plan.”

Courtney clung to his arm, her tears spilling over. “Does that mean you’re agree to sending her to Possum Hollow after all?”