It was my birthday.

I thought he would take me to see the fireworks by the sea, but he showed up with another woman and her child.

“Vera has a kid with her, and it’s inconvenient for them. Be a little understanding. She doesn’t know her way around here, and she has a lot of luggage. I’ll just drop them at the hotel.”

He said it so casually, as if he were just explaining some trivial, everyday chore.

It was that very gentleness of his that made me feel like I was so unreasonable getting angry over it.

He helped them into the car. He leaned down to buckle the seatbelt on the child.

Then, he turned to me with a smile. “I’ll be right back. Don’t overthink things.”

I stood by the roadside and watched them drive away like a picture-perfect little family.

As night fell, the sea breeze turned sharp and biting.

Still, I waited until a notification of Vera Cannon’s social feed update lit up my screen.

He was holding her daughter in his arms. They were watching the fireworks by the beach.

It was a surprise I had planned for my own birthday.

The comments poured in.

[What a perfect match. What a beautiful little family!]

Someone asked him why he was not picking me up.

He just smiled and said, “Indy is very patient. She won’t be mad.”

At that moment, my birthday cake melted into a puddle of frosting.

I finally realized that he had not done that to be cruel to me.

He was certain that I would always wait for him.

However, even the warmest heart grew cold when neglected too many times.

The waves crashed against the shore, over and over.

With each crash, another shred of my hope washed away.

This time, I was not going to wait for him to come back.

I had spent an entire month planning the seaside birthday trip for myself.

I thought he would at least keep me in mind on that very day.

I had booked a beach house, picked out a restaurant, and even made a special reservation for dinner that promised a view of the fireworks.

I thought it would be a romantic getaway for just Shane Leonberg and me.

The morning we were supposed to leave, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door to find his childhood sweetheart, Vera Cannon, on my doorstep. She was holding her four-year-old daughter in her arms.

“Shane thought it would be a good idea to show us around the seaside and get the little one some fresh air.”

Vera was dressed in a flowing white chiffon dress, with full makeup on, and a designer bag over her shoulder. She looked like she was going to a photoshoot rather than a casual beach trip.

With a sweet smile, she added, “I told him it might not be appropriate and that it’d get in the way of your plans, but Shane told me you said it was okay?”

I was stunned for a moment.

I had never said anything like that.

When I arrived at the meeting spot, Shane's car was already waiting there.

Two of his friends were in the back seat. Vera’s daughter was leaning over the front passenger seat. She reached out to him. “Shane, up please!”

He laughed softly and lifted her up. His voice was gentle as he said, “Careful now, you might fall.”

For a moment, the tenderness in his voice felt unfamiliar, like it belonged to someone else.

The car door was open. The seats were all taken.

There was an awkward silence in the air.

One of his friends started to get out of the car. “Maybe we should get out. We shouldn’t make Indy wait by herself.”

Vera was quick to wave him off. In a sweet and understanding tone, she said, “Oh, don’t be silly! It’s fine. Arielle and I will get out. You guys go on ahead. It’s too hot for Indy to be standing out here alone.”

She paused, then added softly, “Arielle has been really looking forward to the fireworks show tonight. Shane, please remember to take some pictures and videos for us, okay? She’d love to see them.”

At that moment, she perfectly faked being so understanding of the whole situation, while I was suddenly made to look like the difficult one.

Shane frowned. He impatiently said, “Alright, enough! Stop trying to offer your places up for Indy. It’s not that far anyway. I’ll just drop you off first.”

Then, he turned to me and said softly, “Vera has a kid with her, and it’s inconvenient for them. Just wait here for me, okay? I’ll be right back.”

I stared at him and clenched my fists.

The utter certainty on his face that I would not mind and that I would always be the understanding one in the relationship was suffocating.

“Shane…”

I called his name softly. It was the final plea for him to remember that this was supposed to be my birthday trip.

However, he just sighed, like he was soothing a child throwing a tantrum.

“Indy, don’t make a fuss, okay? She’s got a kid. It isn’t easy for her. You’ve always been understanding.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if trying to convince himself that I would not have to wait long and that he would come back soon.

I teared up.

It seemed “being understanding” was an excuse that he used to justify neglecting my needs every single time.

One of his friends exchanged a glance with the other, then said hesitantly, “Shane, maybe we should just take her with us? The sun’s brutal. It’s not right to make her wait out here alone.”

Shane’s voice turned noticeably colder. “Stay out of it.”

Vera was quick to smooth things over with a practiced smile. “Really, it’s fine! Please don’t argue because of me. I’m sure she won’t mind waiting here for a bit.”

Then, she nodded at me and said in a gentle tone, “So sorry to put you out in this awful heat! If it were me, I’d have melted by now. You’re so patient!”

I looked at her and caught the faint flicker of smugness hiding behind that smile.

Shane closed the car door.

The car sped off and kicked up a gust of salty wind and sand.

I stood there. The sunlight was blinding.

Sweat trickled down my neck. I had not even brought any water with me.

I thought about calling Shane and telling him to come back quickly.

Then, I remembered the way he had told me to “be understanding.” So, I put my phone away.

I wanted to see if he would actually come back.

My phone lit up with a notification. It was a new post from Vera’s social media account.

They had reached the beach. In the video, Shane was holding Arielle in his arms. They were feeding seagulls by the shore.

The next clip showed him leaning down to fix her wind-tousled hair.

The caption read:

[Arielle’s happiest day!]

The comment section was full of compliments on how they were perfect matches for each other and how they looked like a perfect family.

Instead of denying it, she just left a smiling emoji.

At that moment, the glow from my screen felt painfully bright.

Watching their “happy family” moment, my fingers curled tighter and tighter around the phone.

My chest felt as though it was burning, as if scorched dry by the relentless sun.

A gust of wind brushed my cheeks. There was a sting of salt and a trace of bitterness.

The sun blazed overhead. My vision blurred and darkened as I teetered on the edge of heatstroke.

My phone lay silent in my palm. Its screen flickered on and off.

I stared at it as my heart ached.

My finger, moving on its own, hovered over the contact list and paused above Shane’s name.

I wanted to ask him, “When are you coming back?”

However, in the end, I just stared at his name and did nothing.

I wanted to see if he would remember me.

A cool breeze drifted in, carrying the salty scent of the sea and a hint of chill.

The chill seeped through my skin, all the way into my heart.

I knew then that this was probably the last chance I was giving him.

It was the last time I would ever hold any expectations of him.

I waited on the roadside for what stretched into three long hours.

The sea breeze shifted from warm to cool as daylight slowly faded.

The sky’s color darkened. With it, my shadow dissolved into the gathering dusk.

Shane never called.

It was not until my phone battery dropped to 1% that I finally gave up. I hailed a cab and went home.

The moment I stepped through the door, Vera’s social feed updated again.

In the video, they were standing by the sea and watching the fireworks.

Shane was carrying Arielle in his arms. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind Vera's ear when the wind blew it loose.

Behind them, the sea shimmered with layers of golden light.

Their laughter was clear yet distant, like something from another world.

The caption read:

[Fireworks bloom with happiness, lighting up the night with love.]

My breath caught in my throat.

That fireworks show was supposed to be for me. It was a part of the birthday trip I had planned for myself.

I remembered clearly that I had personally chosen the music playing in the background.

Comments kept flooding beneath the post.

[What a perfect family!]

[That little girl looks just like Mr. Leonberg!]

Vera did not reply. She only dropped a smiling emoji.

Then, in the background of the video, someone’s voice sounded. “Aren’t you supposed to pick up Indy?”

Shane’s voice sounded next. It was low and gentle.

“I can go later. Indy is very patient. She won’t get upset.”

The softness in his tone made everything clear.

He had not forgotten me out of malice.

He had just grown used to me forgiving him for everything.

Staring at the screen, my fingertips brushed lightly against the edge of my phone.

A cold numbness spread through me.

He thought that I would never get angry at him for anything.

I would always understand.

He assumed I would never, ever leave him.

I leaned onto the couch. Memories flashed through my mind.

That winter, the snow had fallen thick and heavy.

I had taken sick leave from work. He drove through the night from out of town just to deliver medicine to me.

He had said, “Remember this, I’ll always be here for you.”

I had said with a smile, “We’re just friends.”

He had been quiet for a moment before saying softly, “Then, I’ll be the friend who waits for you, for as long as it takes.”

A few months later, on my birthday, he confessed his feelings.

The fireworks that day were as brilliant as the ones tonight.

He held my hand and said in all seriousness, “Indy, I want to see every ocean in the world with you.”

I believed him.

I really thought he would remember. After all, he had been the one to promise to see the world with me.

Each burst of fireworks on the video felt like another stab that split my chest open.

I stood up from the couch and walked to the window.

The wind outside had turned chilly. It carried the damp, salty smell of the sea.

I looked down at the ring on my finger. He had slipped it on me the day we got engaged.

He had said, “I want to spend the rest of my life protecting you.”

I had believed him.

Yet at this moment, I did not even get a text from him asking if I was okay.

I took off the ring and tucked it into the back of the drawer. The finality of it all settled over me.

The wedding I had been waiting for was never going to happen.

After the fireworks dinner, they went to a nearby campsite.

My friend, Judy Miles, was there too. When she found out that Vera had taken over my tent, she almost started a fight.

“This tent belongs to Indy! What makes you think you can just take it?”

Vera put on a fragile, helpless act. “I’m so sorry! I guess I didn’t think it through. It’s so late now! Arielle and I have nowhere else to go.”

Judy simply snorted. “Go home then. No one asked you to stay here.”

Vera went quiet. Judy grabbed their bags and threw them outside.

That was when Shane finally remembered me.

“She’s still waiting alone. Maybe I should go pick her up.”

He sighed and turned to grab his car keys.

Vera immediately stepped forward and said in a soft voice, “Shane, let me go with you. I’ll explain things to Indy, and maybe she won’t get mad at you.”

She casually reached out and straightened his collar as she said that.

Shane hesitated for a second, then finally nodded.

She began her slow, deliberate routine. She packed her things, soothed her child, and searched for a snack.

She managed to drag it out for a full hour.

At some point, she even picked up her phone and started recording.

[Off to pick up my bestie! Hope Indy’s not too mad at me!]

I saw the video the moment it was posted.

On screen, her smile was tender, but her gaze was smug with victory.

I opened the messaging app and typed:

[Don’t bother coming. I’m already home.]

I hit send.

The screen went dark.

The house fell completely silent.

I leaned back on my couch and closed my eyes.

The small, stubborn hope I held onto finally faded.

Shane, together with Vera and Arielle, finally arrived at the roadside where he had left me that morning.

The street was dim under the yellow glow of the streetlights. The air was thick with moisture.

I was long gone. Only the empty street and the sigh of the sea wind remained.

A frown creased his brow as a flicker of unnameable dread stirred in his chest.

Just then, his phone buzzed.

A text flashed across the screen:

[Don’t bother coming. I’m already home.]

He instinctively sighed in relief.

But the uneasiness only grew.

I was packing my things in the villa.

The familiar scent of the room made it hard to breathe.

He called me. I watched his name light up on the screen, but I did not answer.

I did not know whether to cry or to laugh.

Maybe I never should have let myself hope for anything in the first place.

I remember the first time I saw Vera.

I was ten years old. I was finally home with my birth parents, Jack and Marie Grayson, after being in foster care for years.

It felt like no less than a dream with a place of warmth, laughter, and family…

When I opened the door, they were holding another girl in their arms.

She had silky hair and was wearing a white dress.

“This is Vera,” my mother said with a gentle smile. “She’s been with us all these years while you were gone.”

My father added, “Indy, Vera’s younger than you. You need to be understanding and take care of your little sister.”

The word “understanding” pricked at something deep inside me, but I still smiled and nodded. “I will!”

Vera smiled, but there was no warmth in her eyes.

I learned later that in the years I had gone missing, she had lived in my room, slept in my bed, and called my parents “Mom and Dad” like they were her own.

They, in turn, had made her part of the family.

They said she was “an innocent child,” while I was the one who had to learn to be “understanding.”

Once, she accidentally knocked a glass off the dining table.

I stood up to help, but before I could do anything, she covered her face and started to cry. “I’m sorry, Indy. Please don’t be mad at me!”

My parents rushed over and pulled her protectively into their arms.

My mother frowned at me. “Indy, couldn’t you be gentler? She’s younger than you, and you’re scaring her!”

That was the first time I understood something. In this house, I would automatically be at fault if she so much as cried.

Later, they sent Vera abroad to study.

My parents said, “It’ll be good for her to see the world, and it’ll keep you two from clashing again.”

After that, the way they looked at me changed.

Their gaze held a mixture of wariness, disappointment, and distance.

From then on, I learned to be silent.

It was at that age, when everyone seemed to avoid me, that Shane appeared.

I remember that day after school, I was sitting on a bench outside the gate and was lost in thought. The rain was pouring down.

He came up and handed me a cup of hot chocolate. He said, “You don’t have to smile. I know you didn’t have a good day.”

I looked at him. It was the first time I had felt seen by someone.

After that, he was there every time I was yelled at.

Once, in tears, I told him, “No one believes me!”

He sat down beside me and said softly, “I believe you. Isn’t that enough?”

From that day on, my world had warmth in it.

He was the first person who made me believe that gentleness could be real.

He was the only redemption in my long, lonely adolescence.

I snapped back to the present. My cheeks were wet with tears.

The light that had once illuminated my entire world was shining on someone else these days.

The chime of the doorbell pulled me out of the spell of the past.

I went to answer it.

Shane rushed in and pulled me into his arms.

He smelled of the night air and the salty sea.

“Indy, I’m so sorry,” he said. His voice was low and desperate. “I didn’t mean to do that. I just lost track of time.”

Before I could respond, a soft, trembling voice sounded from the stairs.

“Indy, I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault.”

Vera was standing there with Arielle in her arms.

Her eyes were a little red. Her voice was shaking just enough to sound weak and delicate.

“If you need someone to blame, blame me. Don’t blame Shane. I was the one who wanted to see the fireworks by the beach.”

She moved closer as she said that. Her gaze was so gentle that it was almost disarming.

Shane reached out and gently caught her by the wrist.

“This isn’t your fault, Vera. Don’t blame yourself, okay? It was my mistake.”

At that moment, I watched the scene before me. As he comforted another woman with such tenderness, a realization dawned over me. He had never meant to hurt me.

He was just too used to caring for someone who looked more fragile.

He thought it was his responsibility, but he never stopped to think that his “consideration” for someone else was breaking me apart little by little.

The silence in the room was suffocating.

As I stared at them, the scene felt almost cruel in its irony.

He called me his fiancee, yet right in front of me, his hand was protectively wrapped around another woman’s wrist.

The corner of my mouth twitched. My throat felt tight.

“Shane, you really do know how to comfort people,” I said softly.

He froze. His eyes flickered in confusion.

I went on, “It’s just that you never considered the person who might need your comfort the most.”

He stood there, utterly still, as if something had finally clicked.

I looked up and stared at the ceiling.

The brightness stung my eyes.

“You’re wondering if I’m still mad?” I shook my head with a bitter smile. “I’m not. None of it matters anymore.”

He reached out and tried to take my hand. “Indy, I just…”

I stepped back.

“You don’t need to explain. I get it.”

My voice was so calm that it felt unfamiliar, even to me.

I turned and walked into the bedroom.

I felt a hollowness within me.

The silence that followed was not of something breaking but the quiet stillness of something that had already ended.

It was an emptiness that rang louder than any apology ever could.