3

Two weeks after canceling the wedding dress, I turned twenty-nine.

Ethan had asked me ahead of time, “What do you want to eat for your birthday?”

It was rare for him to take the initiative. I thought about it for a long time and decided to use my birthday to put a final period on this relationship. To end things with him for good.

I told him I wanted to go to that noodle shop near the university.

On our first date, I’d knocked over a bottle of vinegar there.

He’d knelt down to wipe off my shoes while Marie, the owner, looked on.

Smiling beside us, she’d said, “Your boyfriend’s a sweetheart, honey. You two are perfect together.”

Ethan’s ears had stayed red for a long time after that.

It was one of the few moments that convinced me I’d once been loved.

On the evening of my birthday, I arrived at the noodle shop at six thirty and sat by the window.

The same table was still there, though the paint had faded and a thin crack now ran along one corner.

I waited until eight.

Marie refilled my water three times.

“Boyfriend not here yet?”

“Traffic.”

The excuse came out so smoothly that even I was tired of hearing it.

At nine ten, Ethan texted.

“Something came up. I’ll be late.”

I asked how long. He didn’t reply.

At ten, the noodle shop closed.

Marie brought me a bowl of noodles on the house, a candle pushed into the middle.

Halfway through, Serena posted on Facebook.

In the photo, she was holding a cake.

Ethan stood behind her, lighting the candles.

“At my lowest, at least someone remembered to cheer me up.”

A long time later, Ethan finally called.

“Are you still at the restaurant?”

“About to leave.”

“Rena got fired. She’s in a really bad place. I was worried she might do something stupid if she was alone. Your birthday comes every year. Her situation today was different.”

I watched the snow falling outside.

“Ethan, I turned twenty-nine today.”

“I know.”

“No. You don’t.”

Twenty-nine doesn’t come around twice. And this noodle shop, slated for demolition at the end of the month, would never open again.

I should never have agreed to this. Should never have let myself hope, not even a little.

He was never going to choose me over Serena.

Back at my apartment, I ran into Ryan in the hallway. He’d just gotten off the night shift.

He noticed the paper bowl in my hands, took an orange from his bag, and dropped it in.

“Didn’t have a gift ready. Here’s something round instead. Happy birthday.”

He didn’t ask why I was alone. He just turned on the hallway light for me and stepped back.

“Get some rest.”

At eleven thirty, Ethan showed up.

He brought a cake and a bouquet.

The card in the bouquet had Serena’s name on it. When he noticed, he crumpled it up.

“The shop mixed them up.”

I looked at the chopped hazelnuts on the cake.

“I’m allergic to hazelnuts.”

Ethan froze. “Since when?”

“Since I was eighteen.”

We’d known each other eleven years, and he had no idea.

“I’ll get a new one.”

“Don’t bother.”

He finally lost patience. “I dropped everything and rushed over here. Rena’s a mess and I didn’t even stay with her. Do you really have to ruin this?”

“What time did she cut the cake?”

“A little after eight.”

“You texted me at nine ten saying something came up.”

I looked at him.

“So spending my birthday with me was the kind of work you could push aside. Comforting her was the thing that couldn’t wait.”

His phone rang.

The first time, he silenced it.

The second time, too.

The third time, he answered.

I don’t know what Serena said, but he immediately grabbed his jacket.

“Her kitchen’s flooding. I have to go shut off the valve. I’ll be right back.”

I set the ring down next to the cake.

“I got my birthday present.”

“What?”

“A clear look at who you really are.”

He stood at the door, hesitating, for a good ten seconds.

Serena’s voice came through the phone again, urgent.

“Wait for me.”

The door closed behind him.

I didn’t wait.

The next morning, Ethan hadn’t come back.

The ring sat where I’d left it, untouched.