Chapter 1

My sister told me more than once that she wanted to find a boyfriend like my godfather's fiancé.

Then she fell in love—flew twenty-five hours straight just to celebrate some man's birthday.

I opened my mouth to talk her out of it, but she looked up at me and shook her head.

"You don't get it, sis. Every year, someone else is there for his birthday. Never me."

"This time, I want to be the one."

When her boyfriend found out over the phone, his voice dripped with contempt:

"She flew internationally just to celebrate some guy's birthday? Is she out of her mind?"

The night after I dropped Anna at the airport, I was scrolling through her social media and saw the photo.

A man's back. Broad shoulders. A scar on the nape of his neck.

The shape, the placement, the curve of that scar—identical to my fiancé's.

The caption was simple: Happy birthday.

And the ring on his hand was the same as mine.

That's when it hit me. Anna's boyfriend and mine were the same person.

She'd gone to celebrate Damon's birthday.

…

Today was Damon's birthday.

He'd told me not to bother—said he'd make it up to me when he got back, that it was all the same.

It wasn't that he didn't want to celebrate. It was that someone was already celebrating with him. And that someone was my own sister.

I didn't hesitate long.

Screenshot. Save. Send.

The message sank like a stone. Damon didn't reply.

But my phone lit up.

It was Anna.

A photo—a cake centered in the frame, a man's right hand accidentally caught at the edge.

The ring on his fourth finger was even clearer now.

It was the ring he'd worn when he proposed to me.

Damon had gone abroad to personally negotiate an arms deal. Before he left, he'd knelt on one knee, slid the ring onto my finger, and said when he came back, we'd get married.

I stared at my chat with Anna. Didn't reply.

What was I supposed to say?

Why are you with your future brother-in-law?

What exactly have I been waiting a year for?

I'd always known Anna had someone in her heart.

For a whole year, she'd been flying abroad two or three times a month. Every time she came back, she'd lock herself in her room. I assumed she was heartbroken over someone she couldn't have.

When I mentioned it to Damon once, he scoffed. His tone was pure disdain.

He'd never had patience for Anna.

So I never let my mind go there.

Never considered that every single one of Anna's flights landed in the exact city where Damon was stationed.

Never questioned how their birthdays just happened to fall on the same day—that it was never just a coincidence.

Never asked who was lying beside him on all those nights he refused to video-call me.

My phone lit up again.

Damon sent four words.

[What's that supposed to mean?]

He wouldn't admit the man in the photo was him.

[The person in her photo—isn't that you?]

The phone rang.

Damon spoke first.

"Evelyn, let me explain when I get back."

My gaze drifted to the calendar on the table.

The date of his return was circled in red marker, with a small heart drawn beside it.

"Don't go looking for her." His voice dropped low. "Please?"

That tone—it was pure protectiveness.

My eyes burned suddenly, my throat clamping shut like something had closed around it.

"Why?" I asked him.

Silence on the other end.

Then he sighed and said, "Evelyn, wait until I'm back. We'll talk about everything when I'm back."

Before he even finished, a voice drifted through from his end of the line.

"Damon, is that my sister calling?"

Damon's voice changed instantly.

Soft. Gentle. Like he was soothing a startled cat.

"No."

"Just a friend."