Chapter 1Becoming Better Alone

Every year on my birthday, my boyfriend would ditch me at the last minute because of his junior, Sienna.

This year, I’d booked a restaurant, put on the dress he said he loved most, and waited for three hours.

Finally, I got a message from him: “Sienna’s heartbroken and feeling down. I’m just going to talk to her for a bit. You go ahead and eat.”

This time, I didn't beg or cry. I finished my steak alone and ordered myself a slice of cake.

I made a wish: I hoped that by next year’s birthday, I wouldn’t need him anymore.

When Justin arrived, he saw me saying goodbye to the waiter. He looked confused. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

I smiled. “It’s fine. Go be with Sienna. I’m used to it.”

* * *

Back home, I headed straight for the guest room.

Justin followed me, puzzled. “What are you doing in the guest room?”

“Sleeping.” I opened the closet and began to pack my pajamas and toiletries.

“What do you mean?” He frowned. “Are you mad?”

I didn't answer, simply and calmly placing my belongings, one by one, into a storage bin.

Justin walked over, intending to take my hand, but I sidestepped him.

“I really had something important come up. Sienna was particularly upset today…” he began to explain.

“I know.” I cut him off, my tone flat. “Go be with her. I understand.”

He froze, probably not expecting that response from me.

Sienna was his junior, who later became his assistant.

I’d always felt he showed a clear favoritism towards Sienna.

In the past, every time he’d broken plans because of her, I would cry, rage, and demand answers hysterically.

But now, I was truly exhausted.

I carried the storage bin towards the guest room. Justin still stood rooted to the spot, his face etched with bewilderment.

“You… you’re still angry?” He followed me.

I turned to look at him, stating calmly, “I just want to sleep in a different room. Nothing else.”

“But…”

“Good night.” I closed the guest room door.

Lying on the unfamiliar bed, I felt strangely peaceful.

Tonight marked our third birthday together since we started dating, and it was the third time he’d stood me up.

The first year, he said there was an urgent need for him at an art exhibition. I waited at home until midnight, the cake hardening.

The second year, he said Sienna was sick and needed his care. I went to the restaurant alone, ate a mango cake I was allergic to, and ended up in the emergency room.

This year, he said Sienna was feeling down again.

Every single time, it was Sienna.

I closed my eyes, recalling the wish I’d made tonight. By next year’s birthday, I truly wouldn’t need him anymore.

I woke up early the next morning, quickly washed up, and left the house.

Justin was still asleep; I didn’t wake him. I used to always prepare breakfast for him, but today, the dining table was bare.

This time, I only bought soy milk and steamed buns for myself.