He wasn’t wrong—I used to plan every detail—reservations, decorations, surprises. But those days felt like another lifetime, back when I thought he’d actually cared. I still remembered his reaction the last time I threw a party. He’d told me I was “making a big deal out of nothing” and “it was embarrassing.” Now, he was suddenly surprised I hadn’t done anything?
“Come on, let’s go grab dinner!” he said, gesturing for me to get in the car.
I got in, staring out the window. He kept glancing at me as he drove, waiting for me to show some excitement. Finally, he let out a sigh.
“What’s going on, Sarah? You’re barely saying anything!”
“I’m tired,” I replied shortly, still looking out the window.
“Of what? I went out of my way to pick you up, and you’re acting like it’s some kind of inconvenience, huh!”
“Maybe I am tired, Caleb,” I said, my voice sharpening. “Tired of pretending everything’s fine!”
He looked genuinely confused. “Fine? What are you talking about? I don't get you.”
I just keep myself quiet, not even bothering to look at him. Until we ended up at some fancy restaurant he’d picked out, and as soon as we sat down, he ordered for both of us—seafood, the one thing he knew I didn’t care for. I'm allergic to seafood! I clenched my jaw and forced a polite smile, watching as he dove into his meal without a second thought.
And then, right in the middle of his plate of oysters, his phone rang. He didn’t even hesitate to pick it up. I didn’t need to see the screen to guess who it was.
“Hannah? What happened? You’re not feeling well?” he asked, sounding all concerned. “Wait, you’re sure you’re sick? Alright- alright, I’ll come over!”
He turned to me with an apologetic look. “It’s Hannah. She’s…not feeling well.”
I forced a casual nod. “Go ahead. She’s obviously more important.”
“It’s not like that,” he protested, looking defensive. “She’s just…going through a rough time. You know… raising a kid alone… plus she had no one else to rely on.”
“You always seem to have time for her rough times. Do you even realize what you’re doing, Caleb?”
He looked at me, caught off guard, struggling for words. “I…just need to be there for her. I’ll be back soon. Wait for me?”
I didn’t answer, and he took it as a yes, grabbing his coat and leaving me with a plate of seafood I didn’t even want. I sat there in silence, staring at the flickering candle on the table, mocking the romance that was supposed to be ours. After a while, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I paid the bill and stepped out into the rain, catching a cab home.
When I got back, I went straight to the shower, hoping the warmth would wash away the bitterness. But as soon as I got out, my phone buzzed. I grabbed it, seeing a notification from social media.
It was Hannah’s latest post.
There it was, plain as day—a photo of Caleb sitting beside her on the couch, a look of fake concern plastered on his face as he held her hand. She was wrapped in a blanket, looking perfectly dramatic with her head tilted back, eyes closed, like she was starring in some kind of soap opera.
And the caption?
"The Alpha who’s busy with work, but never too busy for me when I’m sick."
I let out a bitter laugh, so loud it echoed in the empty bathroom. Busy with work, my foot. Was this supposed to be some kind of joke?
Without even thinking, I opened the comments. There was already a flood of “aww” and heart emojis, people fawning over how thoughtful and caring Caleb was. They saw him as the perfect Alpha, the attentive friend, the one who’d “drop anything” to be there.
If only they knew.
I couldn’t resist. I tapped the comment box and typed out my reply:
“Glad to see he’s ‘never too busy’ for someone. Hope you’re enjoying the oysters I’m allergic to, Hannah!”
Before I could second-guess myself, I hit post, letting the sarcasm drip from every word.
Seconds later, my phone buzzed with messages. It was Caleb.
