Chapter 1

The steak knife in my hand felt heavy. I stared down at my plate, at the perfectly cooked filet mignon that Chloe had insisted I order. It was the most expensive thing on the menu.

Across the table, she wasn't looking at me. She was looking at Chad.

She giggled, a light, airy sound that used to make my stomach flip. Now, it just made it clench. She picked up a piece of asparagus from her own plate with her fork and held it out.

"Try this, Chad. It's amazing."

Chad, her ex-boyfriend, leaned forward with a smirk. He didn't use a fork. He just opened his mouth and let her feed it to him, his lips brushing against the tines she held. It was a casual, intimate gesture. The kind of thing couples do.

We were supposed to be the couple here.

For five years, I had been Chloe's boyfriend. Five years of paying for dinners like this, of writing her college papers, of driving two hours every weekend just to see her. I had built my entire life around her. Everyone called me a simp, a doormat. I told myself it was devotion. I told myself it was love.

Looking at them now, I felt a hot shame crawl up my neck. I was a fool.

The woman sitting next to Chad, his supposed girlfriend, didn't seem to care. Her name was Lily. She took a slow sip of her wine, her eyes scanning the scene with a detached sort of amusement. She caught my eye for a second, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze before she looked away. She seemed completely unfazed, as if this was just a Tuesday night. Her calm made my own humiliation feel even sharper.

"You know," Chad said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, "I was just telling Chloe the other day, she has the best taste. In food, in clothes... in everything."

His eyes flicked to me, a glint of superiority in them. He was a startup owner, always dressed in designer clothes, always talking about his next big deal. I was just a tech student, living on ramen and scholarships, saving every penny for Chloe.

Chloe beamed at the compliment, then her hand, the one not holding the fork, slid across the table. It didn't reach for mine. It landed on Chad's forearm, her fingers tracing a slow circle on his skin. They stayed there, a public claim.

The silence at our end of the table was thick. I finally put my knife and fork down. The clatter was louder than I intended.

Chloe and Chad both looked at me, their little bubble momentarily popped.

"Something wrong, Mark?" Chloe asked, her voice laced with a faint, almost unnoticeable annoyance.

I picked up my wine glass. I raised it in their direction.

"No, nothing's wrong," I said, my voice tight. "Just wanted to make a toast."

I smiled, a thin, brittle thing.

"To old friends. It's great to see you two so... close."