I Refused To Be His Second Best Chapter 03

I Refused To Be His Second Best Chapter 03

This year, Stellan actually promised to spend my birthday with me.

Just the two of us.

After class, I came home.

He wasn’t there yet.

I walked into the living room—and stopped.

The place had been decorated.

Pink balloons everywhere.

A huge bouquet of pink roses in the middle. A cake on the table.

Looking at all that pink, the hurt in my chest suddenly felt smaller.

I never asked for much.

Just a birthday that felt special.

One night where it was just us. A moment where I came first.

If he put me in his heart, I could always find a way to forgive the rest.

He said he’d be back by seven.

I pan-seared two steaks and sat down to wait.

The sky darkened outside.

The city lights flickered on.

I checked my phone. 8 PM.

No Stellan.

I called. No answer.

Called again. Nothing.

I hesitated, then tried Faye.

It rang and rang, then went dead.

The steaks went cold.

Finally, my phone rang.

His voice was tired.

“Faye’s got appendicitis. She’s in surgery.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t make it back. You—”

A nurse called him.

He said “get some rest” and hung up.

I stood there in that room full of pink balloons, gripping my phone.

I threw away the cold steaks.

—

He came back at nine the next morning.

I was pulling my suitcase out of the bedroom.

He stared at me, then grabbed my wrist.

I looked up.

He was exhausted—stubble on his chin, bloodshot eyes.

I’d waited all night. He’d spent all night with her.

I’d forgotten.

They’d grown up together. Twenty years of friendship. Practically family.

What were my two years compared to that?

I couldn’t compete with someone who’d always been there.

I didn’t want to anymore.

I pulled my hand back—and pulled myself out.

“Stellan, let’s break up.”

He leaned into my shoulder, voice low and tired.

“Don’t do this now. Just let me sleep.”

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

I laughed.

Even when I broke up with him, he asked me to wait.

“Sleep. I won’t bother you again.”

He straightened up, the sleep gone from his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

I didn’t answer.

His voice went cold. “I told you what happened last night.”

“What more do you want?”

“It’s just a birthday. It comes every year.”

“Faye is your friend too. You want me to just leave her there?”

I pushed him off, laughing through tears.

My birthday comes every year, so it doesn’t matter.

Faye is one of a kind. She’s more important than me.

He had so many options.

Call her family. Call someone else.

But he chose to stay by her side all night.

She always came first.

Always more urgent. Always more important.

I thought I’d still feel hurt. Still fight.

But I’d spent all my waiting—and now there was nothing left.

My heart was empty.

And for the first time, I felt calm.

“I don’t want anything. I just want to break up.”