CHAPTER THREE: SURPRISE SURPRISE

*Elle’s POV*

The shrill beep of my alarm cuts through the quiet morning, pulling me from sleep. Despite the exhaustion from yesterday, a spark of excitement ignites in my chest.

Today is Jack’s birthday, and I’ve been planning this day for weeks, dreaming up ways to make it special. My heart feels light as I roll out of bed, already picturing his smile when he sees what I’ve got in store. I slip into my jogging clothes,black leggings, a fitted tank top, and my favorite sneakers. The morning air is crisp as I step outside, the familiar rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement grounding me. I love these runs. They keep my body strong, and when I feel good about how I look, it lifts my whole mood. Today, I’m running on pure anticipation, my mind buzzing with plans for Jack’s surprise.

After my jog, I take a long, steaming shower, letting the hot water wash away the sweat and wake me up fully. I stand under the spray, imagining how the day will unfold Jack’s laugh, the warmth of his hug when he realizes what we’ve done for him. I get ready carefully, picking out a simple but cute outfit that makes me feel confident.

My heart’s already racing as I grab my keys and head to Claire’s house. We swing by our favorite café, the one with the cozy wooden tables and the smell of fresh coffee that always feels like a hug. Over pastries and iced lattes, we chat about the party, giggling over how Jack will react when he walks into the surprise. Claire’s eyes sparkle with mischief she’s as excited as I am.

We pull up to Jack’s house, a sprawling, beautiful place in a wealthy neighborhood. It’s way too big for just him, and I’ve told him that a million times. “Jack, this house needs a family,” I’ve teased, half joking, half-hoping.

Standing in his driveway, I can’t help but picture it me as his wife, little kids running through the halls, their laughter echoing off the high ceilings. The thought makes my cheeks flush, a warm glow spreading through me. I’m lost in the daydream when I catch Claire watching me, her lips twitching into a knowing grin. “I get it, girl,” she says, laughing softly. “I get it.” I laugh too, embarrassed but comforted. Claire always knows what’s in my head without me saying a word. It’s like she sees straight into my heart.

With Jack at work, now’s the perfect time to set up. I pull out the key he gave me months ago, back when he started trusting me to let myself in. I come over sometimes when he’s not home,cooking him dinner, tidying up, just small things to make his life easier. It’s my way of showing I care, even if I’ve never quite found the courage to say how much. Inside, his house feels like him,clean, masculine, with a faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air.

We get to work, Claire and I, transforming his living room into a party space. We string up twinkling fairy lights, hang a “Happy Birthday” banner, and set out the cake a chocolate masterpiece with his name in bold icing. I place the gifts carefully on a table, my fingers lingering on the envelope with the VIP basketball tickets I got him.

Jack loves basketball, and I can already imagine him cheering courtside with Luca, the two tickets my little gift to his happiness.

Time slips away as we bustle around his massive kitchen, which he barely uses. Jack’s always too busy for cooking, surviving on takeout or meals at my place. His mom, and I are the only ones who ever make this kitchen feel alive.

Today, it’s a whirlwind of chopping, stirring, and tasting as Claire and I prepare a spread for the party roasted chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, a vibrant salad, and all of Jack’s favorite dishes. The smells fill the air, warm and comforting, and I can’t help but feel proud. This is for him. Every detail is for him.

As the afternoon fades, the house starts to hum with energy. Jack’s parents arrive first, their arms full of more decorations and trays of food. His mom hugs me tightly, thanking me for organizing everything, and my heart swells with their warmth. Jack’s friends trickle in next, followed by my brother, who’s actually early for once. They bring more presents, more food, piling the tables high. His cousins and aunts show up too, their voices blending into a happy buzz. The house feels alive, and I’m practically bouncing with excitement, checking the clock every few minutes. Jack will be home soon. I can’t wait to see his face when he walks in and we all yell “Surprise!”

Before the chaos picks up again, I slip away to Jack’s bedroom to freshen up. After all that cooking, I’m a bit of a mess, hair frizzy, makeup smudged, clothes slightly wrinkled.

His room is as familiar as my own, huge and undeniably masculine with its dark furniture and clean lines. His scent is stronger here, a mix of cedar and something uniquely Jack.

It wraps around me, comforting and torturous all at once. I head to his bathroom, needing the mirror to fix my hair and touch up my makeup. I’m brushing out a tangle when my eyes land on something on the counter a small tube of lip gloss. It’s pink, shimmery, and definitely not mine. Definitely not something a man would own.

The sight hits me like a punch to the gut. My breath catches, and a sharp pang of hurt slices through me. Jack had a girl here. There’s no other explanation. The realization sinks in, heavy and cold, stealing the warmth from my chest. He doesn’t owe me anything, we’re just friends, after all but that doesn’t stop the ache spreading through me. I’ve spent so long hoping, dreaming, pouring my heart into these little gestures for him, and now this? I don’t touch the lip gloss.

I can’t. I just finish fixing my hair, my movements mechanical, my excitement dimming like a candle flickering out. I leave the bathroom, my energy lower, my smile harder to hold.

Fifteen minutes later, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway snaps me out of my haze. I rush to the glass window overlooking the front, my heart thudding. It’s Jack’s sleek black car, just as I expected. I turn to the room, whispering urgently, “He’s here!” Everyone scrambles into place, hiding behind furniture, their faces lit with anticipation. I peek out the window again, ready to signal when he’s close. But then I see him step out of the driver’s side, and my heart stumbles.

He’s not alone. He walks around to the passenger side, opening the door, and a blond head emerges. A beautiful girl steps out, all perfect curves and a dazzling smile aimed right at Jack. My stomach twists as they hold hands, their fingers laced together as they walk toward the door.

The world slows down. My chest tightens, and I feel like I can’t breathe. I woke up so happy today, spent hours planning this party to make Jack’s birthday perfect, and now this? He’s here with a girl, holding her hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I should be happy for him. I want to be happy for him. But I can’t. The jealousy burns, sharp and raw, clawing at my insides. She’s holding my Jack’s hand.

We’re all gathered near the door now, the group buzzing with excitement. Jack’s key turns in the lock, and the door swings open. Everyone shouts “Happy birthday!” in unison, their voices loud and joyful. I force a smile, my lips trembling with the effort. I’m here for him, I remind myself. This is his day. But my eyes keep darting to their joined hands, to the way she stands so close to him, her smile bright and confident.

Claire, standing beside me, notices my struggle. She gives my shoulder a gentle nudge, her eyes soft with understanding. She knows how much this hurts, how much I’ve been carrying in my heart for Jack.

The room is a blur of laughter and birthday wishes, but it all feels distant to me. Jack’s cousin, Cassie, steps forward, her brow furrowed slightly. “Jack,” she says, her voice cutting through the noise, “who’s this?” It’s the question everyone’s thinking. We’re all confused, all waiting for an answer. I hold my breath, my eyes locked on Jack, silently begging him to look at me, to acknowledge me as his best friend.

But he doesn’t. He hasn’t met my gaze once since he walked in, not even when I was standing right in front of him at the door. It stings, that avoidance, like he’s shutting me out.

Jack looks at the girl on his arm, his face softening in a way that makes my heart ache even more. He’s smitten, I can tell. Then he turns to the room, his voice clear and steady. “Everyone,” he says, “this is Elena. My new girlfriend.”

The words hit me like a tidal wave, drowning out the chatter, the laughter, the warmth of the party. My smile falters, but I catch it just in time, forcing it back into place. Inside, I’m crumbling. Elena. His girlfriend. The room spins, and all I can think is: “Why didn’t I say something sooner? Why did I keep pretending this was just friendship?“My Jack, the one I’ve loved in silence for so long, is standing there with someone else. And I’m left holding the pieces of a day I thought would be ours.

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