I was preparing a surprise for Danny Wells’s birthday when I stumbled across a thread on a popular forum. [My crush has a girlfriend, but should I still confess to him on his birthday?] The comments were a sea of angry question marks. To gather support, she updated the original post. [I’m a third-year resident at a top teaching hospital. My current career trajectory and future standing will easily eclipse his current girlfriend’s.] [She got into her program on a special admission—a legacy kid, probably barely passed the MCAT. Do I need to elaborate on how easy her path was?] [A group of us have known him for almost a year, and none of us have ever seen a photo of this girl. I think either she’s ugly or he’s just not that into her.] [His girlfriend is obviously the lovesick type; she just posts sappy little essays. I, on the other hand, can show him my devotion with practical action.] [We’ve known each other for 332 days, and our Snapchat streak is at 300.] [I’m an eight out of ten—good looking, great figure, and a genuinely likable personality. I’m the kind of high-EQ girl who could be his best partner in both work and life.] ... I tapped the photo she attached, and my gaze locked on the man’s wrist. Even without seeing his face, I immediately recognized the watch. It was Danny. On the day of our breakup, everyone tried to console me. “It’s just casual sharing, Mia. It’s not even an emotional affair.” I shook my head. “Every meaningless thing they chose to share with each other was, at its core, a desperate bid to be let into the other’s life.” The relentless desire to share every single detail—that’s the real connection. That’s love’s oxygen. 1 I hadn't told Danny I was coming back to Seattle. I wanted his birthday surprise to be genuine. Just half an hour ago, he'd sent me his location. A new ramen place downtown. A few of us from the hospital are grabbing a bite after our shift. If it’s good, I’ll take you next time! He was still the same, checking in constantly, reporting his whereabouts whenever he had a spare moment. I turned off my phone and changed my destination. When I arrived at the restaurant, they had just been seated. I pulled my baseball cap low and sat at a table two booths behind theirs. Danny came out of the restroom, and a girl nearby, carrying two small dipping bowls, walked right up to him. “The house special, and this one? This is the one you always make. I mixed it for you.” Danny took the bowl, tasting it naturally. “The special is pretty spicy, Ronnie. You better skip it.” The girl, Ronnie, smiled radiantly. “Thanks for the heads-up.” The two people closest to me immediately dropped their voices to a conspiratorial whisper. “Are they really not together yet? I can’t believe it.” “All those people at the med school crush on Danny, and he always kept his distance. Turns out his actual destiny was waiting here.” “No kidding. Danny is swamped with his residency, but he still checks her notes for night shifts. They’re a total power-couple move, career-wise.” “Ronnie is obsessed with him, too. It hasn’t even been a year, and I heard she’s practically doing his laundry at his place.” ... Destined by fate. Power couple. Washing Danny's clothes. My phone vibrated. The thread had been updated again. [Out to dinner with my crush! He’s so thoughtful—he even tasted the dip first to warn me it was spicy. Honestly, who wouldn't be crazy about a guy like that?] Someone had commented: [No matter how great he is, he’s still somebody else’s boyfriend. I suggest the host get her relationships straight before falling into a lovesick delusion.] That comment was immediately deleted. I put my phone down. Danny and his colleagues were now seated, eating and venting about life—everything from their questionable college major choices to the hell of last night’s shift. Someone changed the topic. “Hey, isn’t it your birthday in a couple of days, Danny? Should we all get together?” Danny refused, as usual. “I already have plans that day. It’s just a birthday, no need to make a fuss.” “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t be so quick to say no if Ronnie asked. Ronnie, why don’t you say something?” Ronnie put down her chopsticks, a touch of pique in her voice. “His girlfriend is having a private celebration with him. What am I to him?” “Girlfriend? Wait, I heard whispers, but… you actually have a girlfriend?” I slowly lowered my eyes. This was my eighth year with Danny. We’d successfully navigated the seven-year itch, and we’d met each other’s families. So, whether or not my photo appeared on his social media was an irrelevant detail—especially since he never posted anything anyway. But in that moment, I was terrified of his answer. I instinctively grabbed my glass and gulped down the water, coughing until my chest ached. “Yes, I have one. But we’re long-distance.” It was Danny’s voice. Low. Calm. Unemotional. 2 I remembered the first time I visited him in college. He dragged me to his lecture, desperate for his professor and every classmate to know I was his girlfriend. A student in the front row simply asked if it was raining outside. Danny, ignoring the question entirely, grabbed my hand, his eyes shining. “How did you know my girlfriend was here?” He’s not that person now. His one sentence contained an answer, a caveat, and an implication. Ronnie couldn’t stop herself from speaking up. “Are there no good options closer to you? Are you not working hard enough? Why are you trying to maintain a relationship that gives you absolutely no professional benefit?” Danny was silent for a moment. “I don’t look at emotional connections in terms of benefit.” “Then let’s talk about feelings! Does she know how exhausted you are, how much pressure you’re under? Don’t you have a single regret?” Ronnie’s voice was strained, thick with suppressed tears and fierce resentment. The entire table fell quiet. After what felt like an eternity, I finally heard Danny’s voice. He said, “I have regrets, yes. But I force myself to be okay with it.” “And my situation right now doesn’t allow for messy emotions.” ... I shut my eyes tightly. It was my fault. I was the reason he had regrets. I was the one forcing him to compromise and settle. I was the one who put him in a position where he couldn’t let his mind wander. But he seemed to have forgotten: we got together in the first place because we were each other’s whole circle. “Alright, alright, this isn’t the right place to hash this out. Danny, what do you want for your birthday?” Someone tried to lighten the mood. Ronnie huffed defiantly. “I don’t know what you guys are getting, but I know what his precious girlfriend sent him last year. A card with two lines, not even complete sentences.” “She couldn’t write two full sentences? Danny’s girlfriend can’t be that uneducated, can she?” Ronnie glanced at Danny and continued her rant. “I wouldn’t be so sure. It was something like, Be safe and stay well, and Always by my side. Seriously, so lovesick. I mean, if she couldn’t come up with something original, she could at least copy a decent quote!” I gripped my chopsticks, staring blankly. I didn’t even notice the boiling water splashing onto my hand. Last year, for Danny’s birthday, my research advisor had me running data analysis for two straight days. It was the first birthday we hadn’t celebrated together since we started dating. I had tried to write a long, heartfelt letter, pages to prove how vital he was to me. But I wrote and rewrote, and every time, I realized the only two things I truly wanted to say were those two lines: Be safe and stay well. Always by my side. My earnest, sacred words were now a joke. A casual punchline at my expense. In that one second, Danny Wells became unforgivable. 3 I stood up, dragging my carry-on suitcase out of the ramen shop. An early autumn rain in Seattle meant winter had arrived. I zipped up my hoodie and walked aimlessly. Down the street, a line snaked out of a little shop. It was the famous local bakery known for its exclusive seasonal apple fritters. I remembered high school. I was huddled in my desk during a late study hall, casually mentioning to my friend that I wished I had one of those fritters. “The ones at the bakery are the best, but they never taste the same when they’re cold.” My friend handed me a cookie. “Just eat this. Next year, I’ll buy you one on my lunch break.” But Danny, who sat behind me, made a mental note. Before the evening study session, a small paper bag, still warm, appeared on my desk. Danny didn’t even look up. His voice was steady as ever. “Ran an errand after school. Eat it while it’s hot.” On the grade ranking list that night, I was still one spot ahead of him. My friend teased him. “Danny, Mia crushes you every time. If I were you, I’d put something in her fritter.” He just smiled, looking at me with serious, focused eyes. “I’m not here to compete with her.” Later, we promised to go to Boston together. I had a guaranteed spot through early admission. He had to fight for it on the final exam. Fate, however, had its own plans. By a few points, he stayed behind in Seattle. My parents didn’t cry the day he drove me to the airport. He did. His eyes were red. “Will you meet someone better and leave me? I promise I’ll work harder.” I hugged him. “Never.” From the moment I agreed to be his, I resolved to hold his hand through every season. That Christmas, I took a late flight from Boston to Seattle and ran to his campus. I got a few old friends to lure him out to the quad. When Danny saw me pop out of the giant gift box, he stood still and stared for a long, long time. So long that I thought he might never speak again. “What is it? Aren’t you happy to see me?” He suddenly crushed me in a hug. “Mia, we are going to get married, aren’t we? I really, truly want to have a home with you.” “Then I can see you every day. I’ll always love you.” ... Countless perfect memories flashed through my mind like a reel of film. Until yesterday, I was still turning down my advisor’s offer to stay in Boston for a specialized fellowship. Because I couldn’t bear to leave Danny alone again. But I didn’t know then that forever was just the soundtrack to a love that hadn’t yet been tested. I didn’t know that Danny had already found a replacement. In every absent holiday, every quiet day, he found a substitute for me. 4 I went to Danny’s apartment. There were still a few of my things to deal with. The computer in the study was on, the screen open to a Snapchat chat. The girl was a resident who started at the hospital simultaneously as him. Their flame streak was exactly three hundred days. A little fire emoji seemed to be waving smugly at me. Like it was mocking my stupidity. I scrolled up, reading. [That little puppy emoji is so cute, it looks just like you! Did the Head Nurse yell at you today?] [No, she just has a naturally loud voice.] [Danny, you’re seriously the nicest person.] [You are too.] ... [Danny, look at this clip of a resident having a meltdown. LMAO.] [Haha, that’s basically us.] [I noticed you missed breakfast at the cafeteria. No time?] [Didn’t make it.] [You’re so lucky you have me. I’ll bring you something!] ... [Danny, are you married?] [What are you talking about? Of course not.] [Oh, I just heard you have a girlfriend. But it’s fine if you’re not married.] ... [Don’t overthink it. You have a night shift tomorrow, right?] [If I make it through alive tomorrow, I’m buying you dinner!] [Then I wish you luck.] ... [We said we’d grab dinner tomorrow. If it’s too late to go home, I’ll crash at your place for the night. You know the drill—you sleep on the couch.] [Polite − Face emoji] [In return, I left some fruit on your counter. Already washed.] [Grateful − Heart emoji] [You're welcome, you're welcome. See you tomorrow night.] [Got it.] ... They started by sharing videos complaining about med-school life and progressed to making AI-generated joke photos of each other. Now, they were inseparable. The density of the chat log made me feel increasingly ridiculous. They talked about everything: their high school rivalry, the new coffee shop on the corner, the sunset after a long shift. While Danny was too busy shadowing his surgeon, unable to reply to my simple check-in texts, he somehow found the time to comfort her after a patient shouted at her. For the past year, I worried about his brutal residency shifts and lack of sleep. I consciously chose not to bother him unless absolutely necessary. But Ronnie felt completely entitled to complain when he nearly missed their Snapchat streak. While I was buying him easy, pre-made breakfast packages and telling him to get more rest, he was taking Ronnie to a street-food market to celebrate her making it through a night shift. And the day I had my own research meltdown. I found contamination in a lab culture that wiped out two months of work. I was instantly crushed. I called Danny. He hung up. He didn’t even text me back. I thought he was busy. He wasn’t. He was with Ronnie at her first-ever concert. No interruptions allowed. Now I knew the truth. The contamination only destroyed two months of my research. The contamination in my relationship with Danny had destroyed eight years of my life. Tears streamed down my face. Suddenly, two new messages synced on the computer screen. [Are you absolutely sure we can’t spend your birthday together?] [Next time.] ... [Pat on the head emoji] [Promise. Next year, we’ll celebrate together.] [Your wish is my command. How could I refuse you?] ... The forum thread updated again. [I finally met his so-called girlfriend. She’s ordinary and unremarkable. What’s crazier is she’s practically living at his place without even being engaged. A girl with my strict family values would never accept that.] The accompanying photo was a blurry rear-view mirror shot: Danny’s hand gently stroking Ronnie’s head, his lips curved into a faint smile. [This is the third time I’ve seen this post—I’m over it! You need to go for it! You’re so accomplished; why wait for this wishy-washy guy to figure out his feelings? You'll be doing his current girlfriend a favor, honestly. Go, go, go!] [Exactly! The host is beautiful, smart, and has a great career path. Why should she tolerate his pathetic girlfriend? Chase him down! End of discussion!] [There’s a line between deep affection and ethical boundaries. I urge the author to stop. There’s no seniority in love, but there is in character and decency.] [Shhh, is this really something to brag about? Keep your cheating endeavors private.] ... I sent Danny a text, my hands perfectly steady. [I’m not coming back.] He instantly replied: My birthday? Last year you couldn’t make it, and now this year? My Mia is clearly overworked. I pressed the power button, plunging the screen into darkness. I didn’t reply. Danny. I won’t be there for any of your birthdays from now on. Busy or not busy. I’m done.
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