On my birthday, I set the table for two, lit the candles, kept dinner warm for 3 hours, and finally learned that the man I had spent four years waiting for was cooking in another woman’s kitchen.
Chapter 2
The next week moved quickly.
I began transferring projects, reviewing contracts, and brushing up on languages I had not used professionally in years. My job involved international corporate communications and translation, and the London assignment could position me for senior management.
I had once wanted it badly.
Then Zach said, “What kind of relationship survives an ocean?”
So I stayed.
That decision had been mine.
I could no longer blame him for choices I had made to keep him comfortable.
The evening after I accepted the transfer, I came home late and found Zach in the living room holding flowers.
For one foolish second, I thought they were for me.
Then I heard him on the phone.
“Of course I’m coming. You’re only in town for a few days. We’ll make your birthday special.”
Faith.
He was smiling.
Not his restrained half-smile.
A warm, easy smile I had spent years trying to earn.
When he saw me, it vanished.
He ended the call.
“I’m going out.”
I looked at the flowers.
“Faith’s birthday?”
“Yes.”
“Have fun.”
He stared at me, waiting for the scene.
I walked into the kitchen.
After he left, I ordered dinner and opened the language workbook I had abandoned when Zach complained that studying at night made the apartment feel “like an office.”
Around ten, I checked social media.
Faith had posted another photograph.
This time she stood beside Zach beneath restaurant lights, his hand resting near the small of her back.
Thank God some people never leave your life.
Dozens of his friends commented.
Finally.
You two belong together.
Some things are meant to be.
Zach contributed only a smiling emoji.
Then one of his friends tagged me.
Don’t start a fight later, Piper. We’re all here. It’s just a group dinner.
I stared at the comment.
Months earlier, I would have cried.
Instead, I reacted with a thumbs-up and went to bed.
At midnight, the bedroom light snapped on.
Zach stood over me.
“You didn’t even text me.”
I squinted.
“What?”
“I was gone all night.”
“So?”
“Everybody else’s girlfriend checked on them. I was sitting there like an idiot because mine couldn’t even send one message.”
The irony nearly woke me completely.
“You used to tell me not to interrupt when you were with friends.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I wanted personal space, not indifference.”
I pulled the blanket higher.
“You’re an adult. I assumed you were safe.”
He sat on the bed.
“That post from Faith didn’t mean anything.”
“Okay.”
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Acting like you don’t care.”
I looked at him.
“But I don’t.”
For a moment, the room was absolutely still.
He laughed nervously.
“You’re still angry.”
“No.”
“You have to be.”
“I really need to sleep.”
He kept talking, explaining Faith again, explaining the photograph, explaining his friends.
I listened to none of it.
Eventually he tried to climb into bed.
I sat upright.
“What are you doing?”
His face darkened.
“This is my bedroom too.”
“Then I’ll sleep in the guest room.”
He stormed out instead and slammed the door.
Two evenings later, my coworkers held a farewell dinner.
I did not tell Zach.
Not out of secrecy.
Because it no longer felt relevant.
During dinner, I stepped into the corridor to take a call and almost collided with Faith.
Zach stood beside her.
She smiled brightly.
“Piper. What a coincidence.”
“Hi.”
“Don’t misunderstand. I’ve been bored while I’m in town, so Zach brought me to his company dinner.”
Some of his coworkers stood behind them, looking visibly uncomfortable.
I nodded.
“Enjoy yourselves.”
Then I walked away.
My phone buzzed before I reached my table.
Zach.
I don’t normally bring her to work events.
Then:
This is the first time.
Then:
I know it looks inappropriate. It won’t happen again.
I did not answer.
Later, one of my colleagues stood and raised his glass.
“To Piper. May London appreciate her more than we have.”
Everyone laughed.
Janet added, “And when she comes back as regional director, remember who approved the transfer.”
I smiled.
“Maybe I’ll return and work for all of you.”
Another round of laughter.
When dinner ended, I stepped into the hallway.
Zach was waiting.
His face looked almost gray.
“London?”
I stopped.
Faith stood behind him.
“Are you going overseas?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“At least two years.”
His mouth opened.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Janet came out behind me.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes.”
She studied Zach’s posture.
“We’ll wait downstairs.”
When she disappeared, Zach stepped toward me.
“When were you planning to tell me?”
“I wasn’t.”
His face twisted.
“I’m your boyfriend.”
“Not for much longer.”
Faith gasped theatrically.
“Piper, come on. Is this still about your birthday? Zach went because my apartment flooded. I was panicking.”
I looked at her.
“Faith.”
She stopped.
“This is between Zach and me.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You don’t need to be rude.”
“You said earlier you were bored. There’s a bar downstairs.”
Her face flushed.
She turned to Zach.
“Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”
He ignored her.
That was new.
Instead, he reached for my wrist.
I stepped back.
“Don’t.”
His hand fell.
“Let’s go home.”
“No.”
“We’ll talk there.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.”
I took the apartment key from my pocket and placed it on the small marble table beside us.
“My things will be gone tomorrow.”
He stared at the key.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“No.”
“You’re trying to scare me because I brought Faith.”
“No.”
He looked desperate.
“Fine. I’m sorry.”
It was the first sincere-sounding apology I had heard from him in years.
Once, that single word could have kept me for another six months.
Now it only made me sad.
“I’m not angry, Zach.”
“Then what is this?”
“I don’t love you anymore.”
His face emptied.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It isn’t.”
“You’ve loved me since college.”
“I did.”
“You gave up Boston for me.”
“I know.”
“You built your entire life around us.”
“No.”
I corrected myself.
“I built it around you.”
He looked wounded, as though I had accused him unfairly.
“You can’t switch feelings off overnight.”
“I didn’t.”
My voice remained calm.
“You turned them off slowly for me.”
He said nothing.
“Every anniversary you forgot. Every dinner I ate alone. Every time your friends insulted me and you told me to earn their approval. Every time you called me clingy because I wanted you home.”
I took a breath.
“Then on my birthday, I sat at a table I decorated for us while you cooked dinner for Faith.”
His lips parted.
“That was the last little piece.”
Faith gave a nervous laugh.
“Oh, please. This is so melodramatic.”
Zach spun toward her.
“Shut up.”
Her face changed.
“Excuse me?”
“I said shut up, Faith.”
It was the first time I had ever seen him speak sharply to her.
He turned back to me.
“Piper, please.”
“No.”
I walked toward the elevator.
He followed.
“Piper.”
The elevator opened.
Janet and several coworkers stood inside.
Two of the men took one look at Zach’s frantic expression and stepped forward.
“Sir,” one said. “Give her space.”
Zach stopped.
His breathing was ragged.
“If you leave tonight,” he called, “we’re really over.”
I looked at him one last time.
“Goodbye, Zach.”
The doors closed.
