The stranger part was that we weren't just both new students. We were in the same major, the same class.
One thing led to another, and we drifted together as naturally as anything, the golden couple everyone in class always talked about.
By now we'd been together seven years, and both sets of parents were planning to have us married by the end of the year.
I didn't answer any of the questions flying around the group chat. I just typed one line and sent it.
"Let's all wish this newly official couple a long and happy life together."
The moment it landed, the chat went dead silent. Exactly like that private dining room at the restaurant a little while ago.
That was when Byron came home.
He barely got through the door before he was in my face, coat still on, demanding answers.
"What was that stunt at the restaurant today? And that line you just posted in the group, what's that supposed to mean?"
"Willow, I throw you a birthday party and somehow I'm the one in the wrong?"
"It's your birthday. I wanted us to have a good time, and you had to go and ruin the mood for everybody, is that it?"
Question after question. Not one word of apology. Not one word of concern.
I lifted my head and studied the lines of his face, slowly, feature by feature.
This man I'd loved for seven whole years felt like a complete stranger to me now.
I cleared my throat.
"What's it supposed to mean? You can't tell?"
"Byron, we're done."
That only pushed him higher.
"You are being completely unreasonable!"
"We're about to get married. You think this is the time to be joking around?"
So he knew too.
Some things you don't joke about.
When I said nothing, his voice eased a little, though the anger underneath was still plain enough.
"Fine. I know Isabel took the joke a little too far today. It was my fault, all right?"
"She's an old neighbor of ours, our parents get along, and I've always thought of her as a little sister. She's young. We can afford to cut her some slack."
"Okay, okay. Don't be angry."
The laugh that came out of me was pure disbelief.
"She's young? Byron, the three of us were in the same class in college. She's half a year younger than you, and two months older than me."
"You're a grown man. You're still playing this whole no-blood-relation big brother, little sister game? Doesn't that make your skin crawl?"
I didn't spare him a thing, and it lit his temper right back up.
"I already apologized. What more do you want from me?"
I stayed where I was on the couch and didn't move. My answer was written all over me.
I'd already said what I had to say. I wasn't going to say it twice.
A vein was jumping at his temple, he was so angry.
"My parents are already picking a wedding date for us. Both families have it all settled."
"And now you want to break up? How exactly do you plan to do that?"
I didn't answer. I stood, walked straight into the master bedroom, and started packing my things.
I only ever stayed over at Byron's place on weekends. There wasn't much of mine in that apartment.
It didn't take long to gather my clothes and toiletries.
When I passed through the living room dragging my suitcase, he was still standing rooted to the same spot.
I didn't so much as glance at him.
"You don't need to trouble yourself over how we break up. My parents and I will handle it."
"Go take care of your little sister. After all, she's so. very. young."
I bit down hard on those last words, and his face went ugly in an instant.
From the look of him, he had some more nonsense ready to spill.
I couldn't be bothered to hear it. I walked straight out and shut his voice behind the door.
By the time I got home, it was nearly midnight.
