He squeezed my shoulder once. “Good.”
Back inside, Cal caught my eye. Waited until everyone left.
Later, in bed, he pulled me close. “What’d Kei say?”
I hesitated. “To keep my walls up.”
Cal tensed. “Because of me.”
“Yeah.”
Silence stretched.
Then he spoke. Voice rough. “I get jealous. When you talk to him. When you confide in him instead of me. It drives me fucking crazy.”
I turned in his arms. “It’s not my fault, Cal. You brought that on yourself. For months. Years. I needed someone safe. Kei was that.”
He swallowed. “I know.”
“I’m not stopping being friends with him because you’re insecure.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“But if it makes you better, if it helps you show up, I’ll only talk to him when you’re there. Or when it’s about Eli. That’s it.”
He searched my face. “You’d do that?”
“For us? Yeah.”
He kissed me. Hard. Grateful. “Thank you.”
...
Cal’s birthday was three days later. He turned twenty-six.
He told me the night before, quiet, almost embarrassed. “I don’t want a party. Just you. Dinner here. Maybe Eli picks the movie.”
I smiled. “Done.”
But Sydney had other plans.
The doorbell rang at seven. I answered, thinking delivery.
Sydney stood there. Red dress. Makeup perfect. Holding a cake box.
“Surprise,” she said sweetly. “I threw Cal a little party. Invited everyone. Including you.”
My stomach dropped.
Behind her: Jake, Holland, a handful of industry people I recognized from photos. Music playing from someone’s phone. Balloons. The whole thing staged.
Cal appeared behind me. Face blank. “Syd. What the fuck.”
She smiled wider. “You said you didn’t want anything big. So I made it small. Intimate. For old times’ sake.”
I felt the trap snap shut.
People pushed inside. Laughter. Clinking bottles. Cal’s jaw clenched so hard I thought it would crack.
