The Last Breakup

A bottle of champagne, shaken hard, shot toward the ceiling as everyone in the private room celebrated like they'd lost their minds.

They were celebrating my boyfriend, Blake West, being single again.

One moment, I'd been at the center of the crowd making a wish. In the next, I'd faded into the background, no longer the star of the night, and no one paid me any attention.

Blake had never been much for parties like this. His friends usually had to practically beg him to show up, which only made our extravagant annual breakup party that much more anticipated.

Blake and I met in college. He was the campus heartthrob, made even more desirable by his wealthy family, while I was the campus beauty who was already making a name for herself in the design world.

We were young, and sparks flew easily. Our romance became the talk of colleges all over the area.

But after enough time together, someone was bound to get bored.

On our fourth anniversary, after I'd made my wish, Blake was silent for a long moment before saying, "Tessa Callahan, we've been together four years. Aren't you tired?"

I looked at him, confused. All I could see was the dark whorl at the crown of his head, deep enough to draw someone in.

He pulled me tightly against him, rubbing my arm as he coaxed, "How about this? To avoid the seven-year itch, from now on, we break up for a month after every anniversary. During that month, we don't interfere in each other's lives.

"If one of us finds someone who's a better fit, the other person has to be happy for them. If neither of us does, we'll get back together after the month is over."

I shot to my feet in panic, knocking over the cake we'd decorated together. Bright frosting splattered across the floor like an oil painting abandoned before the final brushstroke.

His arms suddenly empty, Blake flexed his hands awkwardly, but he still pressed me for an answer. "Okay?"

Maybe I was too shocked. My arms and legs had gone numb, but I had my pride too.

"Fine."

The tension left Blake's body the instant I agreed.

During that month apart, I obsessed over everything he did. I compared myself to every woman around him. Had they held hands? Hugged? Kissed?

The slightest sign of something happening between him and another woman felt as though it might be the final straw.

The stress became so overwhelming that sometimes I'd wake in the middle of the night crying uncontrollably.

On the nights I truly couldn't take it anymore, I'd call him.

He always answered immediately. He never complained that I'd disturbed him or accused me of interfering with his life. Instead, he'd tell me silly stories in a gentle voice until I drifted off to sleep.

"Tessa, is a whole month apart too long?"

The next day, with three days still left before our month was up, we got back together.

On our fifth anniversary, I thought he wouldn't bring it up again.

I was wrong.

Now we had reached our tenth year, and it had happened every single year since. In fact, every year after that first one, Blake insisted on waiting the full thirty days before getting back together.

Not one minute or one second less counted as a month.

Our annual breakup had even become a major event in our social circle, with everyone placing bets on the outcome.

Even odds we'd get back together. A hundred to one that we wouldn't.

Laurel Keaton suddenly dropped into the seat beside me. "Tessa, what did you wish for?"

My wish?

That I'd never see him again.