On my eighteenth birthday, the moment the clock struck midnight, he confessed.
"Millie, I'm going to spend my whole life being good to you."
Later, we both got into universities in Capital City.
He was on the south side. I was on the north.
Four hours by bus, round trip. Every single week, without fail, he made that journey—just to see me.
Even after graduation, our relationship stayed strong. He remained in Capital City to start his business while I went back home to find work.
This year, our families had already begun discussing wedding dates.
I'd resigned before the New Year specifically so I could move to Capital City afterward and find a job here. We'd never have to be apart again.
Now, all of that had turned to ash.
Kevin had found another girl—one he wanted to bring home to meet his parents.
He'd even started to despise me.
The words I'd once spoken to comfort him, tearing open my own wounds in the process—he'd turned them into jokes to share with someone else.
Darkness fell. The streets emptied.
I found a random hotel nearby.
I'd barely settled in when my phone lit up.
A message from Mom.
Sweetie, have you eaten yet? Dinner here is amazing!
A photo of the New Year's Eve feast followed.
Relatives crowded around the table, laughing, radiant.
A draft slipped through the hotel window and crept up my sleeves. I shivered.
I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and forced my voice to sound normal:
"The food's all ready! We're about to dig in. Don't worry about me."
I couldn't tell her the truth. I couldn't let my parents spend New Year's Eve worrying about me.
I found a random photo of a holiday dinner online and sent it to them.
Then, without thinking, I glanced at my chat with Kevin.
Empty as always.
At midnight, firecrackers erupted outside the window.
The celebration was so loud I couldn't sleep.
Like picking at a wound, I opened Kevin's social media, searching for any trace of his betrayal I might have missed.
He'd hidden it well. He'd kept her completely shielded.
I scrolled back and forth, over and over.
Finally, in a screenshot of a work group chat, I spotted Camille's username.
A distinctive name.
Something clicked. I searched for it across every platform I could think of.
Among dozens of accounts with similar names, I recognized her instantly.
The profile picture was painfully familiar—it was the matching half of Kevin's avatar.