Chapter 1: The Cake, The Kiss, The Cold Shoulder

I’d just flown halfway across the country, heart pounding the whole way, only to find my boyfriend hanging out with his friends, the room echoing with the rapid-fire clicks of controllers and the shouts from their game. Laughter and the sharp, tinny sound of digital gunfire filled the air, the smell of pizza boxes and energy drinks lingering.

The whole flight, I’d pictured this perfect moment: maybe he’d be waiting at the door, arms wide, ready to sweep me up in a hug. But instead, there he was—headset on, thumbs moving in a blur, lost in that glowing world with his buddies. He didn’t even look up. The TV’s glow flickered across his face. Somehow, the shadows in the room felt even colder.

And then, out of nowhere, someone said his ex had lost a bet. The punishment? She had to kiss him.

Honestly, it was one of those dumb dares that always spiral out of control... someone’s idea of fun, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth before anything even happened.

I stood there the whole time, watching her drape herself over him, then watching her kiss him. Watching her laugh, watching her lips on his, I felt my stomach twist. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. I was just stuck there, watching.

My grip tightened on the cake box in my hands. I felt invisible, like a ghost in my own life, standing there in the doorway while everyone else laughed and acted like nothing was wrong. The neon bar sign buzzed outside, painting the scene in sickly pink. It made the whole thing seem unreal.

The old me would’ve stormed right up, demanding answers, probably yelling at him in front of everyone. God, maybe I would’ve thrown the cake. Why not? Wasn’t I supposed to care?

Heck, maybe I’d even throw the cake at someone’s head. Not tonight, though. Tonight, I was just... tired. Bone-deep, soul-tired.

All at once, it just felt pointless.

It was like something inside me had snapped. All the energy I’d spent loving, worrying, fighting—gone, like a balloon let go into the sky. What was the point, really? Seriously.

I’d even booked the earliest flight I could find—just to surprise him for his birthday.

I’d even kept it a secret, texting his friends to make sure he’d be home. I pictured his smile. Maybe the way he’d pull me close and say, "You didn’t have to do all this, Cass." I wanted him to feel loved—like I always tried to make him feel.

I’d pulled three all-nighters just to finish my work on time, but honestly, I didn’t mind.

I’d lived on gas station coffee and vending machine snacks for days, tapping away at my laptop until my eyes burned. But I didn’t care—I was doing it for us. For him. That thought kept me going.

So I just grabbed the homemade cake I’d baked and headed to the sports bar’s private room—where he always hung out.

I’d balanced that cake on my lap the whole Uber ride, praying the frosting wouldn’t melt. The Uber driver winked at me and said, "Good luck," as I climbed out. I took a breath, checked my reflection in the window, and tried to steady my nerves before pushing through the heavy bar door.

The pounding bass was so loud, nobody even noticed when I slipped inside.

It felt like walking into a thunderstorm—music so loud it rattled my teeth, laughter bouncing off the walls, the smell of beer and fried food thick in the air.

Jamie’s voice rang out, teasing: “I don’t want to kiss any of you—if I have to, it’s gotta be Miles.”

She was always the center of attention, the kind of girl who could turn a joke into a weapon. Her voice cut through the noise, all playful, but there was something sharp underneath. There was always something sharp underneath.

His hair fell over his eyes, casting a shadow. He looked distant, like he didn’t care at all what Jamie said.

He didn’t even glance at her, just stared at the screen, fingers tapping the controller. But I saw the way his jaw tightened, the little flicker in his eyes. Maybe he was annoyed, maybe he just didn’t want to deal with it. Just once, I wished he’d look at me.

I froze, hands trembling, hiding in the dark corner where no one could see me.

I pressed myself into the shadows, heart pounding, cake box digging into my palms. I wanted to scream, or run, or both. But all I could do was watch. Pathetic, right?

Jamie got up, moved in close, and wrapped her arms around his neck. When he didn’t resist, I saw the excitement flash in her eyes.

She knew exactly what she was doing. I swear, everyone in the room did. Her laughter rang out, a little too loud, as she leaned in. The whole room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what came next.

A moment later, her red lips pressed against his. I felt my stomach twist.

Time stretched thin. Her hair fell forward. Miles didn’t flinch. Everyone else just kept laughing, like this was all some harmless game.

The whole scene played out in slow motion. I wanted to step in, to stop her, but my legs might as well have been made of stone.

My body wouldn’t move. I was rooted to the floor. Helpless. Like I was watching someone else’s life play out on a screen.

I stared at Miles, desperate for any kind of reaction.

I wanted him to look up, to see me, to do something—anything. I needed him to prove that I mattered, even just a little.

He didn’t push her away. Not even a little.

That was it. That was all it took. Something inside me just… froze. Like someone hit pause.

In that instant, it was like ice water poured over me.

I felt the chill, like someone had opened a window in the middle of winter. My heart felt numb. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until my chest started to ache.

Miles finally spoke, his voice casual: “Don’t do that again.”

His voice was casual, like he was telling someone not to spill their drink. Like none of this mattered. At all.

“I have a girlfriend, you know. Maybe try some boundaries.”

He said it with a shrug, not even looking at Jamie. It sounded more like an afterthought than a real boundary. The words just hung there, empty.

Jamie let go of him, muttering under her breath, “Your girlfriend’s so high-maintenance, always in a mood.”

She shot me a look out of the corner of her eye, lips curling into a smirk. I clenched my jaw. No way was I giving her the satisfaction.

“When we were together, I never made you go through this. Not once.”

Her words had that mix of nostalgia and accusation—like she was the only one who ever really understood him. It stung, more than I wanted to admit.

Miles looked up, eyes hard. “Jamie.”

His tone was sharp, but who knew if he was mad at her or just done with all of this.

“Fine, fine, I’ll drop it. Didn’t mean to kill the mood,” Jamie said, throwing up her hands.

She threw her hands up in mock surrender, but her eyes were still on him. It was all a game to her. I hated how much she enjoyed it.

All at once, everything felt meaningless.

The laughter, the cake, the surprise—all of it felt like a bad joke. I wondered if anyone would even notice if I just disappeared.