Happy Birthday, He Cheated

Derrick grinned when he saw me like that.

He went in for a hug, tried to kiss my cheek—I turned my face.

I was already done with him, just wasn't the time to blow it all up.

We were grown. I still had my pride.

So I lied. "Emergency at the hospital. I gotta run."

His smile faltered.

"But it's your birthday. Can't you chill for once?"

I reached out, smoothed his brow like old times. "It's fine. Just remembered—I left your gift at work."

Our anniversary and my birthday fell on the same day. We'd made this dumb pact to swap gifts every year.

I always designed him a suit. This year was no different.

Before the cheating bomb dropped, I'd already drawn it up. Took me three months to finish.

Derrick sighed but gave me that soft look. "Can't ever win with you. At least blow out the candles first—I made ice cream cake. It's gonna melt."

I nodded.

He grinned, pulled me over. We blew them out together.

Then he yelled, "I wanna be with Audrey forever! I'll stick by her side for life!"

Cue the crowd going wild.

"Derrick, give it a rest! You're making us all jealous."

"Almost ten years and still this cute? Ugh, I can't."

I stiffened.

Not ten.

Eleven.

This was year eleven.

And he'd already checked out.

I slipped my hand out of his and kept it calm. "I'll grab your gift. It's late—I'm not coming back. Enjoy the party."

Then I walked.

After finishing up at the hospital, I headed back to the clubhouse with the suit.

Eleven years. Wrapped up. Done.

Felt like the final page.

I hit the stairs and spotted Sabrina slipping into the private room.

My fingers clenched around the gift bag.

Seriously, Derrick? Couldn't even wait?

Already had her on speed dial?

It hit me like a sucker punch—sharp, breath-stealing pain.

I leaned against the wall, eyes burning.

Pulled out my phone.

"Zara, I'm in. I'm joining the research team."

Our hospital had this top-secret program way out northwest—only the best docs got picked for a brain tumor study.

My dad died from one. Mom followed not long after—grief just crushed her.

That's why I went into medicine. Beating brain cancer became my thing.

But once you signed up, there was no backing out.

Minimum commitment? A few years. Max? Over ten.

I'd stalled before—couldn't bring myself to leave Derrick.

Zara, my best friend and a fellow doctor in the program, didn't hold back. Called me love-blind.

So when I suddenly said yes, she was floored.

"Wait, for real? What happened to can't-live-without-Mr.-Stratton?"

I bit my lip. "Guess I figured it out. We're supposed to live for ourselves, right?"

I didn't tell her what Derrick did—she would've lost it.

After we hung up, I stayed there, pressed to the wall, trying to catch my breath.