Chapter 1
I just knew I was going to have a terrible birthday.
I could feel it in my bones, like some sixth sense warning me that the universe had it out for me today. From the moment I woke up, things had been going downhill. First, my coffee machine decided to break, leaving me caffeine-deprived and grumpy. Then, the sky turned an ominous shade of grey, as if even the weather wanted to rain on my parade.
I knew something else was coming. That gut feeling—the one where you just know that the day is going to spiral into chaos? Yeah, I had that. The shift in the air, the drop in temperature, like the universe was holding its breath, waiting to see what would go wrong next. It wasn't just bad luck. It was like I was trapped in some kind of cosmic joke, and the punchline hadn't hit yet.
The worst part? I couldn't shake the feeling that today wasn't just going to be a bad day—it was going to be the day. The one where everything fell apart unexpectedly. All I could do was brace myself for the inevitable, knowing full well that no amount of positive thinking was going to save me from whatever disaster was waiting around the corner.
Until I was forced to face whatever disaster was looming, I decided to distract myself the only way I knew how—by opening Instagram for my daily dose of mind-numbing videos. Maybe a few cute puppies or funny prank videos could ease my anxiety, even if just for a little while. Anything to keep my mind off the inevitable mess waiting to happen.
Then the first thing I saw when I opened the app was Jake's face.
Of fuccourse.
His perfectly chiseled jaw, the one I used to find charming, now made me want to hurl my phone across the room. My fingers itched to do it, to watch the screen shatter into a million pieces like my heart had when we broke up. But instead, I took a deep breath and tapped on the post, my stomach twisting in knots that I knew were only going to get worse.
This was the bad thing that was going to happen.
There he was, standing next to her.
Celine.
She was the kind of girl I could never be. I didn't know much about her, but what I did know made my blood boil. She had this effortless beauty, with her soft blonde waves framing a face that probably never saw a bad day in its life. Her skin practically glowed, and she wore a white dress—irritatingly bridal, even though it wasn't a wedding dress. Not yet, at least. But something in the way she clung to Jake, her hand resting possessively on his chest, made me feel like it was only a matter of time.
My eyes drifted down to the caption, and that's when the real blow came.
"Engaged to the love of my life. Can't wait to start this next chapter with you."
Engaged.
That word alone hit me like a train.
We'd been broken up for 2 months, and somehow, in that short span of time, he was ready to marry someone else.
The memories came rushing back—late-night talks about the future, the plans we made together, the promises that clearly meant nothing to him. We'd been together for almost four years. Four years of birthdays, holidays, inside jokes, and intimate moments. And now, he was ready to start a new chapter with someone else.
How long had they even been together? I could feel the familiar sting of tears behind my eyes, but I blinked them away, determined not to fall apart. My brain went into overdrive, calculating how fast he must have moved on. We had been serious—at least I thought we were. We'd talked about moving in together, planning vacations, even what our wedding might look like. He had dropped hints about marriage, especially in those last few months.
And now, in less time than it took me to forget the scent of his aftershave, he'd moved on.
He was engaged.
I swallowed hard, my hand trembling as I scrolled down to the comments. A flurry of congratulations from his friends and family flooded the page. People cheering for them like it was some fairy tale and not the cruel reality that had blindsided me. The words felt like daggers. "So happy for you guys! You're perfect together! Finally!"
Finally?
My stomach churned.
Like I was some temporary obstacle in the way of Jake's real happiness.
I should've stopped there. I should've put my phone down, gone for a walk, anything but this self-inflicted torture. But I couldn't look away. My eyes flicked back to the post, scanning the photos again.
That's when I noticed the second post.
It was a close-up of Jake and Celine holding something between them. My heart stuttered when I realized what it was: a tiny baby onesie. I stared at it, my mind refusing to process what my eyes were seeing.
Then I saw the caption beneath it.
"Three months along and counting!"
Three months.
My world tilted, and I felt a wave of nausea hit me like a punch to the gut.
Three months?
I sat up, my hands cold as I did the math in my head. Three months meant they had gotten pregnant while Jake and I were still together.
That bastard.
The room started to spin. My mind flooded with questions, accusations. Had he been seeing her behind my back? Was I just some placeholder while he secretly built this perfect little life with Celine? How long had he been lying to me?
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. The betrayal was like acid in my veins, burning through every ounce of trust I'd ever had in him. Jake hadn't just moved on—he'd bulldozed through our relationship and built something new on the ruins without a second thought. All those months where I'd been mourning us, he'd been starting over.
Starting a family.
That was supposed to be our family.
I wanted to scream. To smash something. Instead, I just sat there, the weight of it all pressing down on me, suffocating.
Then it hit me. He posted this. Today.
My birthday.
He knew what today was.
He knew today was my birthday and he decided to post that.
I dropped the phone onto my bed and pressed my palms into my eyes, trying to force back the hot tears building up behind them. How could he? On my birthday of all days? Had he been seeing her while we were still together? Was I so blind in love that I didn't even notice that he started having an affair with someone else?
Starting a family with someone else.
I didn't want to think about it anymore, but the pieces were falling into place, and I couldn't ignore it anymore. Jake wasn't just moving on; he had moved on, fast enough to build an entirely new life with someone else.
Someone else that wasn't me.
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. It wasn't just my birthday or the engagement or the pregnancy that stung—it was how easy it all seemed for him. Like what we had never really mattered. Like how I never mattered.
I glanced around my room. It still held remnants of Jake. The stack of books we picked out at that used bookstore on our last trip together, the coffee mug he left behind "just in case". I still had photos of us around my apartment, even the furniture we had picked out together. I still had it all.
I hated that I hadn't gotten rid of these things. They stared at me, taunting me with memories of what could have been, if he hadn't decided to rewrite his life with someone else.
I dragged myself to the mirror and caught my reflection. Puffy eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, and auburn hair that looked like it had been through a windstorm. My mind flashed to Celine's Instagram-perfect face. I wasn't a mess, but standing there, I felt like one. My lips tightened into a thin line as anger simmered beneath the surface.
Jake had no right to be happy after everything. No right to move on without so much as a glance backward. And yet, here I was—still tangled up in the memories of us, still trying to figure out how to heal after everything. The unfairness of it all gnawed at me. How come he got to be the one with the fresh start? Why was I left alone, dealing with the emotional wreckage? Why wasn't I enough?
That last thought hurt more than words could explain.
My phone buzzed from where I'd dropped it, and I snatched it up, ready to throw it if it was another one of those algorithm-suggested posts about "healing" and "letting go." But it wasn't. It was Sophie's daily "U up?" text.
I dialled her number instead of replying. She picked up on the second ring.
"Hey, Birthday girl!" she said, her voice cheerful as always, blissfully unaware of the emotional tornado I was caught in.
"I just saw Jake's engagement post," I blurted out. "And they're three months pregnant, Sophie. Three months." My voice cracked, and the tears that had been lurking behind my eyes started to spill over. "And they posted it today of all days..."
There was a pause on the other end. "Wait, what? He's engaged? Already? And... pregnant?" The disbelief in her voice was a small comfort. At least I wasn't the only one who thought this was insane.
"Yeah," I said bitterly, wiping at my eyes with the back of my sleeve. "I don't even know what to think. It's like everything we had was just... a lie."
Sophie sighed, her tone softening. "Emma, I know this is hard. But maybe this is a sign that it's time to let go. I mean, you deserve better than someone who would move on like that, especially if he was seeing her while you two were still together."
The word deserve hung in the air between us. I wanted to believe her. Sophie was always the level-headed one, the person who kept me grounded when I felt like I was spinning out of control. But right now, I didn't want to hear about what I deserved. I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch something. But more than anything, I wanted Jake to feel the same gut-wrenching betrayal that I was feeling.
"I just... I can't believe he's so happy. Like, he didn't even skip a beat," I muttered, staring at the photo again, as if that would somehow make it all make sense. "And here I am, still single, still stuck."
"You're not stuck," Sophie insisted. "You just need time. This doesn't mean you're not going to find someone. It just means Jake wasn't the right one."
Her words were meant to comfort me, but instead, they lit a spark. I didn't want to wait anymore. I didn't want Jake to win—to be the one who moved on first, who got the happy ending while I was left picking up the pieces.
"What if I prove him wrong?" I said suddenly, the idea forming even as the words left my mouth.
"What do you mean?" Sophie asked, her voice cautious.
"I mean... what if I show him that I'm fine, too? That I've moved on. I could— I don't know, start dating someone seriously. Or at least make it look like I am." The plan started to take shape in my mind, and the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. I wasn't going to be the sad ex-girlfriend sitting on the sidelines while he paraded around with his new fiancée. I'd show him I could be just as happy.
"Emma..."
"I'm serious," I interrupted her. "I could even stage it. Make him think I'm in this great relationship. He doesn't need to know what's real or what's fake."
Sophie groaned. "You know these things always blow up in movies, right?"
"Yeah, well, this isn't a movie. It's my life. And I'm tired of feeling like I'm the one who got left behind."
There was a brief moment of silence before Sophie broke it with a smirk in her voice. "So, what's your plan? Swipe through Tinder until you find a boyfriend, or are we going old-school—wandering around a hardware store, pretending to be lost, hoping some single guy offers to help?"
I laughed at that. She knew all the tricks too, especially with her dating history.
"Uh..." I began to respond, but then a sudden noise from outside grabbed my attention. I looked across the street at The Java Jive, the bustling restaurant where laughter and clinking dishes filled the air.
Suddenly, an idea sparked in my mind, bright and alluring. I remembered who works there—someone who might be just the person to help me pull this off.
I hesitated for a moment; a smile slowly spread across my face as the plan took shape in my mind. "I might have an idea."
*** end of chapter 1***
Thank you to everyone who has shown interest in my book! This is my first one, and I can't wait for you all to dive into Emma's journey of self-healing!
I promise to upload at least one chapter a day, and I hope to share even more!
Please feel free to leave comments on where you think my story could improve; your feedback is much appreciated.
With lots of love,
Bridget
