Chapter 4

Lily came home late that night, long after the party had ended. She found Ethan sitting on the couch in the dark, waiting. The apartment was silent.

"You're still up," she said, a hint of guilt in her voice. She flicked on a lamp, and the soft light illuminated his calm, unreadable expression.

"You're mad, aren't you?" she asked, misinterpreting his silence for sullen anger. "Look, I'm sorry about tonight. Mark just gets carried away sometimes. You know how he is."

She came over and tried to sit on his lap, to placate him with the physical affection that had always worked before. It was her go-to move when she felt guilty, a simple transaction to smooth things over.

But this time, Ethan didn't respond. He sat perfectly still, making no move to hold her.

He gently pushed her away. "Don't," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Save it for Mark. He seems to appreciate it more."

Her face fell. "Ethan, it's not what you think."

"Isn't it?" he asked, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "He has an allergy to lily dust? Really? The man who used to buy you lilies by the dozen every week? The man whose name is tattooed on your back next to a lily flower?"

She flinched, her hand instinctively going to her back where the small, faded tattoo was hidden. She had no defense. She knew he was right.

She stood up, flustered and cornered. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed," she mumbled, fleeing to the bedroom and closing the door behind her, escaping the conversation she didn't want to have.

Ethan stayed on the couch, the silence of the apartment pressing in on him. His phone lit up with a notification. It was a message from his mother.

Happy birthday, my dear son. Your father would be so proud of the man you've become. I love you.

His birthday. He had completely forgotten. In the chaos of his father's death and Lily's betrayal, his own birthday had slipped his mind.

And clearly, it had slipped Lily's mind too.

The bedroom door opened a few minutes later. Lily stood there, wrapped in a silk robe. "I'm sorry, Ethan," she said softly. "Let's go away this weekend. Just the two of us. We can go to the beach house, like we always planned for my birthday."

Her birthday. She had remembered her own birthday plans, but not his. The irony was suffocating.

"Okay," he said, a cold plan forming in his mind. He would use this trip. It would be their last. A final, definitive end. "Let's go."

The next day, while Lily was out at practice, Ethan finished packing. He went through the apartment, gathering the few things that were truly his. He picked up a framed photo of them from their first anniversary. She had given it to him with a flourish, a generic silver frame from a department store. He remembered the watch she' d bought Mark for his birthday last year-a limited edition model she' d spent weeks hunting down. The contrast was stark and painful. He took the photo out of the frame and tore it in half, letting the pieces fall into the trash can.

His phone rang. It was Lily.

"Hey," she said, her voice bright and cheerful. "Change of plans for this weekend! I invited Mark and a few friends to come to the beach house with us. It'll be more fun as a group, right? A real party!"

He closed his eyes. Of course she had. Even his final goodbye was going to be hijacked, turned into another stage for her and Mark's reunion tour.

"Sure," he said, his voice hollow. "Sounds like fun."

The weekend was as bad as he had imagined. He was a ghost at his own breakup party. Lily and Mark were inseparable, their laughter and inside jokes creating a bubble that excluded him completely. Her friends either ignored him or looked at him with pity. He sat on the porch, watching them play volleyball on the beach, feeling like a stranger in a life he had built.

During dinner, Mark raised his glass. "A toast! To Lily, for her amazing success. And a happy belated birthday to Ethan. When was it? Yesterday? The day before? Sorry, man, I lost track."

The others laughed, the casual cruelty of the remark hanging in the air. Lily didn't even look at him. She was too busy smiling at Mark. The final act was about to begin.