Chapter 2: After the Party, Nothing Left to Say

I turned and walked out, tossing the cake straight into the trash.

The box landed with a soft thud, frosting smearing against the plastic liner. I didn’t even look back. The night air hit my face, cold and sharp, and I let it wash over me. It was all I could do.

Miles called. I didn’t pick up.

My phone buzzed again and again, his name lighting up the screen, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. Honestly, what was there left to say?

By the time he finally found me, I was nearly asleep.

I’d curled up on my side of the bed, still in my clothes, the faint glow from the streetlight outside painting shadows on the ceiling. The room felt too big. Too quiet.

I heard the quiet sound of him taking off his watch. For once, Miles actually tried to explain: “When did you get back? Why didn’t you tell me ahead of time?”

He sounded almost surprised, like I’d caught him off guard. I didn’t answer right away, just stared at the wall.

“A few friends I haven’t seen in a while, so we ended up hanging out a little longer. Next time, don’t wait for me. Just go to sleep.”

His words felt rehearsed, the kind of thing you say when you don’t want to fight. Honestly, I wondered if he even noticed how distant I was.

When I didn’t start asking questions like usual, Miles glanced at me. “I got you your favorite pecan pie. Go ahead, have some.”

He set the pie box on the nightstand, like it was a peace offering. The smell drifted over, sweet and nutty, but it just made my stomach turn.

I rolled over, answering flatly, “No thanks. I’m not hungry.” I was too tired to care.

My voice sounded small, even to my own ears. I hugged my pillow tighter, trying to block him out.

For a while, it seemed like Miles wanted to say something else.

He hovered by the bed, shifting his weight from foot to foot, like he was searching for the right words but coming up empty.

I cut him off, blurting out, “She kissed you, and you didn’t even push her away.”

The words hung between us, sharp and cold. I didn’t need to say her name—he knew exactly who I meant.

No names, no warning. Just the chill between us—I knew he understood.

He flinched, just a little, but didn’t look away. The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable.

After a moment, Miles stared at me, his tone helpless. “Cassidy, it’s been over between me and her for a long time. But as her friend, what was I supposed to do? Let her embarrass herself in front of everyone?”

He sounded like he was pleading his case in front of a jury, not talking to his girlfriend. His hands moved as he spoke, palms up, as if begging me to see his side.

“You know how she is—so spoiled. If I don’t play along, I’m worried she’ll…”

He trailed off, voice growing softer, like he was searching for an excuse even he didn’t believe. I could hear the frustration in his tone, the way he always got when I questioned him about Jamie. Same as always.

By the end, I couldn’t even make out what he was saying. But his impatient tone was the same as always.

It was always the same fight, the same script. I was tired of it. So tired.

Normally, I’d have lost it. Demanded to know who he really cared about.

I could feel the old anger simmering beneath my skin, ready to boil over. But this time, I held it back. It just wasn’t worth it.

But this time, I just laughed, bitter and small. “Miles, why don’t you just get back together with her? I’m done.”

My voice shook, but I forced myself to look him in the eye. I was done playing the fool. I was done.

“It’s like everyone’s just pretending. It’s exhausting.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. I felt exposed, raw, like I’d just ripped off a bandage that had been holding me together.

Miles’s jaw tightened, and his face darkened. “What are you even talking about?”

His voice was sharp, almost angry, but I could see the confusion in his eyes. He didn’t understand—not really.

Maybe my expression was too serious. He slowly moved closer, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me into his embrace. “Still jealous over her? Aren’t you tired of that?”

His arms were warm, but I felt nothing. The words sounded patronizing, like I was just being silly, like none of it mattered.

"Come on, let’s not fight. I didn’t even get to eat your cake this year—you always make one."

He tried to change the subject, his voice gentle, but I could hear the edge underneath. He wanted to move on, to pretend everything was fine.

He always did this—made it sound like I was the one making things complicated. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to cry.

I broke free from his arms, my face blank. “I forgot it was your birthday. If you want cake now, I’ll order delivery.”

My words were clipped, almost robotic. I stared at the ceiling, refusing to meet his eyes.

Miles grew frustrated at my coldness, lips pressed tight.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. I could see the irritation building, the way his jaw clenched.

After a while, he pinched his brow and sighed. “Fine, blame me. I’ll donate a couple new machines to your lab, okay? Or whatever you want, I’ll buy it.”

He always tried to fix things with gifts or money, like that could patch over everything. I wanted to scream, to tell him he was missing the point, but I just stayed silent.

You’re being loud. I’m going to sleep now.

I rolled away from him, pulling the covers up over my head. My chest ached, but I refused to let him see me cry.

He pulled me into his arms again, patting my back. “Go to sleep, go to sleep.”

His touch was soft, almost apologetic, but I felt miles away. The words sounded hollow, like a lullaby for someone else’s pain.

Then, the shrill ring of a phone cut through the quiet like a knife.

The sound made me jump, heart pounding. It was so loud in the silence, I thought it might never stop.

Jamie’s name flashed brightly on the screen, glaring and harsh. Of course it was her.

The letters burned into my eyes, neon-bright. I didn’t have to look to know who it was.

Miles’s body tensed, then he let go of me and answered the call.

He glanced at me, almost apologetic, before stepping away. I watched his shoulders stiffen as he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Miles, a pipe’s leaking. I had too much to drink tonight, and it’s not safe for a repairman to come when I’m alone. Can you come help?"

Her voice was soft, almost trembling, like she knew exactly how to play the damsel in distress. I could picture her, sitting on her couch, eyes wide and innocent. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Please, Miles.” Her voice on the other end was all pleading and helplessness.

She drew out his name, letting it hang in the air. I clenched my fists under the covers, trying not to scream.

Miles didn’t answer her. He hung up. Just like that.

He stared at the phone for a moment, then set it down with a sigh. The silence was deafening.

I could feel his eyes on me, like he was hoping I’d say, ‘Go ahead.’ I wasn’t going to give him an out.

I kept my face turned away, refusing to give him the out he wanted. I wouldn’t be the one to tell him it was okay.

Or maybe he wanted to prove he cared. Who knows.

I wondered if he even knew what he wanted anymore. Or if he just wanted to keep both of us on the line, just in case.

The air was thick with tension, every second heavy.

I could hear my own heartbeat, loud in my ears. The weight of everything unsaid pressed down on me.

A complicated look flickered across Miles’s face, like he was struggling to hold back something he couldn’t put into words. He never could.

His eyes darted between me and the door, torn. I could see the guilt, the hesitation, the way he wanted to do the right thing but didn’t know what that was.