The Day I Stopped Waiting for Him

Anderson forgot my birthday for the third time.

I didn’t throw a fit. I just cooked my favorite meal by myself.

I bought the ice cream cake I usually wouldn’t let myself get.

As if celebrating this ordinary birthday that nobody cared about.

But after I took a shower and came out of the bathroom, ready to slowly enjoy it—

I found that the food I’d spent three hours making had all been packed into containers by Anderson.

The cake next to it was smashed and unrecognizable.

He noticed me standing there.