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.” 1 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. 2 At three in the afternoon, I was in a meeting when Justin messaged me: “Sienna’s landlord is reclaiming the apartment, and she has nowhere to stay. Can she stay at our place for a few days?” I stared at the message, recalling two years ago when we first started dating. I’d suggested inviting my best friend over, and he’d said, “Home is a private space; maybe not have outsiders over.” Back then, my best friend was an outsider. Now, Sienna wasn't. I didn’t reply. When I got home from work, Sienna was already in the living room. She wore Justin’s white shirt, her hair damp, sitting on the sofa watching TV. I recognized the shirt; it was one of Justin’s favorites. He’d usually tell me, “Don’t wrinkle it,” even if I just touched it. Justin saw me return and immediately walked over to explain, “Her clothes got wet in the rain, so I…” “Mm-hmm.” I nodded, changed my shoes, and walked into the kitchen. He followed me, lowering his voice. “You’re not angry?” “Why would I be angry?” I opened the fridge, starting to prepare dinner. “You said she had nowhere to stay; it’s perfectly normal for her to stay a few days.” Justin stared at me for a few seconds, as if checking if I was being sarcastic. I didn’t look at him, just calmly washed and chopped vegetables. Sienna’s voice drifted from the living room: “Justin, there’s a new mystery movie out tonight. Will you come with me to see it?” I heard Justin say, “Sure, I’ll be with you in a moment.” Then he turned to me, tentatively asking, “Do you… want to come too?” I dried my hands, calmly stating, “No, I don’t like watching movies. You two go.” He frowned. “Don’t you love watching movies?” I smiled, offering no reply. Two years ago, every time I asked him to watch a movie, he’d say, “Maybe another day, Sienna and I are swamped.” I asked him over a dozen times; he never agreed once. After that, I stopped asking. Now, he couldn’t even remember what I liked. Justin stood at the kitchen doorway, wanting to say something but stopping himself. In the end, he left with Sienna. I sat alone at the dining table, eating the meal I’d cooked myself. My phone rang; it was my best friend. “How was your birthday?” she asked. “It was good.” My voice was flat. “Who are you kidding? I saw your social media post—just a picture of cake. Where was Justin?” I paused for a few seconds. “He had something to do.” “Sienna again?” My best friend’s voice rose. “I told you…” “It’s fine, I’m used to it.” I cut her off. “Talk later, I’m eating.” After hanging up, I looked out the window. It was dark now; they must be at the cinema. Would Sienna lean on his shoulder, just as she had countless times before, saying, “Justin, you’re the best”? I picked up a piece of green vegetable, chewing slowly. I don’t know why, but I suddenly remembered the candlelight I saw when I made my wish. In that instant, I felt like I had truly let go of my expectations for him. At eleven o’clock, I heard the lock turn. Justin was back, a smile still on his face. He saw me washing dishes, paused, and came over, offering to help. I said, “No need, go rest.” He stood behind me, staring at my back for a long time. “What… what’s wrong with you?” he asked. I dried my hands, turned to face him, and calmly asked, “Nothing, was the movie good?” “It was alright.” He answered somewhat distractedly. “Why aren’t you angry?” “Why should I be angry?” I countered. He was speechless. Probably because the old me would have made a huge fuss over something like this. But now that I wasn’t fighting, he was unnerved. Men, they really are a pain. 3 Over the next few days, I deliberately avoided Justin. I left the house at seven every morning and didn't return until ten at night. Even on weekends, I’d schedule meetings with clients or stay at my best friend’s place. When Justin invited me to dinner, I’d say, “I have a client meeting.” When he asked me to watch a movie, I’d say, “Working late, maybe next time.” When he asked why I was so busy, I’d say, “Lots of projects lately.” The truth was, I just didn’t want to be in that house. After Sienna moved in, the living room became her domain. Her cosmetics were on the coffee table, her clothes hung on the balcony, and her and Justin’s laughter always drifted from the living room. That house felt less and less like my home. On Friday night, I browsed rental listings on my phone. My best friend messaged me: “Are you moving out?” “Yeah, I want a change of scenery,” I replied. “Finally coming to your senses?” I didn't answer the question, just kept looking at listings. Justin walked up behind me, saw my phone screen, and his face changed. “You’re looking for a place?” His voice was a little strained. “Yeah.” I locked the screen and put my phone down. He sat opposite me, his eyes complex. “Are you moving out?” I looked up at him, calmly stating, “This apartment is yours, and Sienna lives here too. I don’t feel very comfortable.” “Sienna’s moving out in a few days,” he quickly explained. I smiled. “It’s fine; I’m used to it anyway.” “You’re saying you’re used to it again.” He frowned. “What exactly do you mean? I told you, I only see Sienna as a sister.” I didn't answer, just got up to get water from the kitchen. Justin followed me, pressing, “Are you upset with me?” “No.” I took a sip of water. “I just think it’s better to live somewhere more comfortable.” “But this is our home…” “It’s your home.” I cut him off, looking into his eyes. “I’m just temporarily staying here.” He froze. I turned and went back to my room, hearing his frustrated voice just before I closed the door: “Claire, you actually don’t believe me!” The next day, a colleague from work invited me to lunch. Mid-meal, she suddenly asked, “Are you and Justin doing okay?” I paused. “Yeah, why?” “Just… is he good to you?” My colleague hesitated. “I don’t mean to stir trouble, but I saw him with another girl the other day, and they were very intimate.” I smiled, saying nothing. My colleague sighed. “He cheated, why don’t you break up with him?” Then, she paused. “Forget it, pretend I didn’t say anything.” I knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say, you don’t look happy at all. She wanted to say, he seems to care more about that Sienna. She wanted to say, you deserve better. But I knew all these things myself. That evening, Justin messaged: “Let’s go out for dinner tonight. We haven’t eaten together in ages.” I replied: “No, I have a client meeting.” “Another client meeting?” He sent a question mark. “You’ve been busy every day this week.” “Yeah, a lot of projects lately.” My phone vibrated several times, all messages from him. “What exactly are you busy with?” “I miss you.” “Are you avoiding me?” I looked at these messages, finally just replying with two words: “No.” Then I silenced my phone and continued looking at rental listings. My best friend was right; I really should move out. I had already scheduled viewings for this weekend. 4 On Tuesday morning, I caught a cold. My head was spinning when I woke up, and my throat felt like it was being cut. I took my temperature: 102.5°F. I sent Justin a message: “I have a fever.” He quickly replied: “Drink plenty of water, take some medicine, and get some rest.” I stared at those six words for a long time, finally just replying with an “Okay.” I lay in bed until the afternoon, my head growing dizzier. I tried to get up to get some water, but the moment I stood up, my vision went black, and I almost fell. My phone rang. It wasn’t a call, but a message from Justin: “Sienna’s blood sugar is low, and she’s not feeling well. I’m taking her to the hospital, so I’ll be back later.” I looked at this message, then at my own temperature, which had climbed to 103.1°F, and found it oddly ironic. I made myself some cold medicine, took a fever reducer, and lay back down. Seven o’clock, eight o’clock, nine o’clock. I drifted in and out of sleep, the room quiet, just me alone. A little after ten, I heard the lock turn. Justin and Sienna were back. I heard his footsteps entering, and his voice talking to Sienna: “You go to your room and rest well. Call me if you need anything.” A little while later, he pushed open my door, saw me lying in bed, and walked over, asking, “What’s wrong?” “Cold.” I answered with my eyes closed. “Has the fever gone down?” “Not yet.” He reached out to touch my forehead, but I turned my face away. “Then get more rest.” He stood for a moment, then turned and left. I heard his footsteps fade, then voices from the living room. “Yeah, she’s resting… I bought you fruit and medicine… It’s nothing, you just rest well…” I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. He bought Sienna fruit and medicine. But when I was home with a fever, he only replied, “Drink plenty of water.” My best friend came to see me that evening. Seeing my fever-flushed face, she swore angrily: “Where’s Justin? Where is he?” “He’s taking Sienna to the hospital again,” I said weakly. “She has low blood sugar.” “Low blood sugar?” My best friend’s voice rose. “You’re almost at 104°F, and he’s with someone else for low blood sugar?” I said nothing. My best friend poured me water and gave me medicine, scolding me while taking care of me: “I really don’t know what you see in him. Two years, has he ever been good to you?” I swallowed the medicine, so bitter I wanted to throw up. “I don’t know either,” I said. “Maybe I just liked that he’s handsome.” “You…” My best friend sighed. “Forget it, I’m tired of talking to you.” She stayed with me until midnight, leaving only after confirming my fever had broken. 5 In the morning, I was still asleep when I heard the door lock click. Justin returned, carrying things. “Did you buy breakfast?” I walked over. “Yeah.” He turned to me. “Sienna has low blood sugar. She loves the soup dumplings from this place, so I specifically waited in line to buy them.” My hand froze. Sienna emerged from her room, her face lighting up when she saw the breakfast. “Wow, you really went and bought them? You remember even the casual things I say.” Justin smiled. “You’ve loved these since you were a kid; of course I remember.” I stood there, watching the two of them chat and laugh. I felt like an outsider. “You eat too.” Justin noticed me, gesturing to the porridge on the table. “I bought you plain porridge.” Plain porridge. The most ordinary kind of porridge. I suddenly felt that our love was like this bowl of plain porridge, utterly tasteless. I walked to the dining table and sat down, looking at the bowl of porridge, and suddenly asked Justin, “Do you remember what I like to eat?” Justin froze, clearly not expecting such a question. “Never mind, forget I asked.” With that, I stood up and picked up my bag to leave. Justin followed me. “Where are you going?” “To buy breakfast.” I said without looking back. “Didn’t I buy…” “I don’t eat plain porridge.” He followed me out, catching up to me downstairs. I stopped, turning to face him. “What’s wrong?” He stared at me, wanting to speak but holding back. I said calmly, “Two years, and you’ve never bought me breakfast once.” He froze, a hint of panic flashing across his face. I continued, “But you remember Sienna loves soup dumplings, and you even went and queued for them. This isn’t the first time, is it?” “I…” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Then I turned and left. His voice came from behind me: “Can you stop being so petty all the time!” I didn’t look back, just quickened my pace. When I got home, Justin was sitting on the sofa, his face grim. Sienna was no longer in the living room. As I walked past him, he suddenly spoke, “I’ll be more mindful in the future.” I stopped, looking at him. “I’ll remember what you like to eat, I’ll buy you breakfast, I’ll…” He stood up, his gaze earnest. “No need.” I interrupted him. “Really, no need.” “Why?” “Because…” I thought for a moment, then calmly said, “I don’t need it anymore.” His face changed. “What do you mean?” I didn’t answer, just returned to the guest room and closed the door. Sitting on the bed, I opened my phone and saw a message from the real estate agent: “Ms. Wright, the landlord of the apartment you liked has agreed to rent it to you. You can sign the contract this week.” I replied: “Great, I’ll sign on Wednesday.” After sending the message, I leaned against the headboard and closed my eyes. By next year’s birthday, I truly wouldn’t need him anymore. My wish was slowly coming true.
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