When night fell, a bonfire was lit. Christopher and his crowd gathered around it to celebrate his birthday. His friends were sloppy drunk, and their mouths ran loose.

"Chris, your girl loves you so much. If you just sweet-talked her a little, forget a mistress, she'd probably put up with a whole lineup."

"Tch, watch your mouth. She's not 'the mistress,' she's the new Mrs. Gilbert. Right, new Mrs. Gilbert?"

"Oh right, right, my bad. I'll drink three for that."

I sat at the bar, glass in hand, the room blurring at the edges. But even through the haze, I felt it. A gaze, cutting straight toward me.

"It's midnight! Happy birthday, Christopher! Make a wish!"

After he blew out the candles, the crowd erupted. "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

"What did you wish for?"

The music dipped low between tracks, and Christopher's voice cut through, steady and deliberate.

"I wish Louisa Henson peace and happiness."

The young woman beside him blinked. "Louisa? Who's that?"

Every head in the room swiveled toward me.

Louisa. That was me.

Alma's voice came out soft and pouty. "That's not fair. You're playing favorites..."

"Right, right, my mistake. I've had too much to drink. I wish our darling Alma stays beautiful forever."

Confetti burst through the air, streamers drifting lazily overhead.

Then came the main event: group games for the whole party. A spotlight would land on someone, and they'd choose Truth or Dare.

I moved to a corner where no one was paying attention.

I was halfway to drunk when the host's question cut through the noise.

"Louisa or Alma? Who do you love?"

"Alma."

"But we heard Alma's the other woman."

Christopher didn't hesitate for even a second. "Louisa is the other woman."

My fingers tightened around my glass. Whatever warmth the alcohol had given me evaporated on the spot.

I lifted my head. His eyes were already on me, cold and indifferent.

A few minutes later, Christopher strolled over with his drink. He clinked his glass against mine, barely a gesture. "Given your temper, I'm surprised you didn't throw your drink in my face. That's not like you."

"I just talked to the wedding planner. We'll push it back a year. You've waited seven already. What's one more? She's at the perfect age right now. Once this year is over, we can—"

I cut him off. "Let's just end this."

Christopher scoffed. He clearly didn't believe me.

"Babe..."