I felt Irvin's gaze and lifted my head to meet it, only to catch his eyes sliding over to Selena instead. They were both smiling.
A sharp, miserable ache twisted through my chest.
I stood and turned to my friends. "I'm not feeling well, so I'll head out first. You all enjoy yourselves."
"Cut the cake first. I ordered it just for you. Have a bite before you go."
Irvin stopped me, his expression urgent.
Something occurred to me then—those prank-style birthday surprises that had gone viral online, where they make one person feel completely wronged first, then hit them with an overwhelming surprise.
I reset myself. Maybe the roses were for me. Maybe Irvin and Selena had been overacting this whole time, putting on a show. Maybe today was the day he'd propose.
The corners of my mouth lifted before I could stop them. I watched Irvin lift the cake and carry it toward me, step by step, until he stood right in front of me.
Then, under my hopeful gaze, he walked straight past me to Selena's side.
"You cut the cake first. Then cut a slice for Layla."
The smile froze on my face.
"Get the lights."
A click, and the lights went out.
In the dark, the tears wouldn't stop. I was scared. I was scared of the dark.
"Happy birthday to you!"
Irvin started the song. He sang off-key, and he'd never been willing to sing it with me even in private. Now here he was, singing it for Selena in front of everyone.
"Make a wish!"
The lights came back on. The door opened too. I was still standing the way I'd been when the lights went out, my back to all the celebration.
It was my parents and Irvin's parents. They'd heard the news too—that he might propose today—so they'd all rushed over together.
His mother leaned in close to me. "Did he propose? Did you say yes, Layla?"
My throat had gone dry. I couldn't speak.
Behind me, Irvin's voice came fast and urgent.
"I never intended to propose to her!"
Thunder out of a clear sky.
I laughed. It was a laugh of release.
I stumbled toward the exit, not noticing the courier rushing in, and he slammed right into me.
He threw out a hand to catch me, but the things he was carrying tumbled out of his grip and onto the floor.
A white dress, and a red one.
The white pure, the red one sultry—satin, spaghetti straps, backless. Irvin had never once bought me clothes like these. But he'd bought them for Selena.
"Are you all right, miss? I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."
I shook my head. "I'm fine."
Then I turned and pointed at Selena. "The owner of those dresses is over there. Go give them to her."
And I walked out without looking back.
Selena's face flushed red. She'd seen that red dress. Irvin probably liked the idea of seeing her in it, she thought—and if that was the case, then she'd wear it today.
Irvin made to chase after me, but Selena caught his arm and held him back.
"Where are you going? We've still got karaoke after this."
The elders from both families watched the two of them pulling at each other, disgust flooding their faces in an instant. My mother and father went out to find their daughter.
Irvin's parents started laying into their son. "You're thirty years old, and you still won't get married. What are you trying to do? Today is Layla's birthday—who are these ridiculous gifts even for? Go find Layla right now! Or don't blame me for not letting this go."
Irvin took out his phone and stepped off to the side.
He started making a call.
He wanted to explain that the red dress wasn't for Selena, but the call was hung up on, again and again.
Irvin stared out the window at the flickering lights, the streams of cars passing by, and his temper rose.
He was exhausted. A surgery that had run more than ten hours. He'd finally gotten a chance to relax, to eat a meal and sing a little and rest, so why did Layla have to throw a fit and make everything this tense?
