There was a time those words would’ve melted my heart. I would’ve believed him. But not anymore. I couldn’t unsee the way he looked at Selena or forget the scent of her lingering on his clothes.
“Sure,” I said, my tone flat. “If you really want to make it up to me, throw me a proper birthday party for once.”
The request seemed to catch him off guard. For years, my allergies to dairy and certain ingredients meant I’d never been able to enjoy my own celebrations. And Nicho had always been too “busy” to arrange anything special.
His eyes flickered with hesitation, but he nodded. “Of course. Whatever you want.”
Before he could say more, his phone buzzed. The distinctive tone he used only for Selena. He glanced at the screen, his expression tightening. “It’s something urgent from the pack. I’ll be back soon. Don’t wait up.”
The lie was so blatant it almost made me laugh. “Go ahead,” I said, waving him off. “I’m used to it.”
He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he turned and left, leaving me alone with the dying embers of our past.