—August 4th, 2025—

Sarah's ringtone jolted me awake at 7 AM. I fumbled for my phone, my mind still swimming with images from last night—Mom's knowing smiles over steaming tea cups, the way the storm seemed to pause just long enough for Eli to leave.

I answered my phone.

"Happy birthday to meee!" Sarah's voice sang through the speaker. "Are you ready for today? I'm so excited!"

"Yeah, of course," I managed, my throat tight. "Happy birthday."

As Sarah rattled off the day's schedule, my phone buzzed with a text. Eli.

E: Your mom is amazing. "The universe doesn't make mistakes, dear. It only makes introductions." 😊

I smiled, remembering Mom's cryptic comments after Eli had left. She'd watched her walk away through the rain, then turned to me with that look she got when reading particularly significant tea leaves. "Sometimes the right path isn't the easy one, Tris. But it's always worth taking."

"Tris? Are you listening?" Sarah's voice cut through my thoughts.

"Sorry, yeah. Pick up the cake at 10, then decorations."

"Don't forget to wear that blue shirt I got you. The one that matches my dress!"

Another text came through as I agreed:

E: Dodging another wedding planning session. Future MIL wants to discuss flower arrangements. Kill me now. E: Last night felt...right. Like finally finding the correct piece in a puzzle you've been struggling with forever.

"I'll pick you up in an hour," I told Sarah, ending the call. I stared at Eli's text, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Me: I know exactly what you mean. Mom hasn't stopped smiling since you left.

E: She saw it too, didn't she? The thing between us? E: Also your mom makes the best jasmine tea I've ever had. The way she just KNEW that's what I wanted...

I remembered that moment—Mom and Eli saying "Jasmine" in perfect unison, then that look passing between them. Like they shared some secret I wasn't privy to yet.

The promise ring sat on my bedside table where I'd left it last night. I picked it up, its weight familiar yet suddenly foreign in my hand. Sarah would notice if I wasn't wearing it today.

E: How are you holding up?

Me: Honestly? I feel like I'm about to star in a play I never agreed to be in.

E: I know the feeling. Been staring at my engagement ring all morning. E: That hug goodbye last night... I haven't stopped thinking about it.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Neither had I. It had lasted perhaps a few seconds too long to be casual, her head fitting perfectly under my chin, her scent mixing with the atmosphere. Mom had watched from the doorway, her expression soft and sad and knowing all at once.

My doorbell rang—Sarah, early as always. I quickly typed:

Me: Sarah's here. We're getting party supplies.

E: Good luck. Remember what your mom said about the universe and introductions? E: I don't think we met by accident, Tris.

I slipped the promise ring on my finger just as Sarah knocked on my apartment door. It felt heavier than ever, like it was made of lead instead of silver.

"Sorry Tris, I was just too excited to wait. Ready for the best birthday ever?" Sarah beamed as I opened the door. She was already wearing her new blue dress, excited as a kid on Christmas morning.

"Ready," I lied, following her to her car.

My phone buzzed one last time:

E: Whatever happens today, know you're not alone in feeling this way. E: Some masks are meant to crack.

I stared at her words until Sarah asked me to navigate to the bakery, then tucked my phone away. The day stretched ahead like a tightrope, and I was already wobbling.

The restaurant Sarah had chosen was exactly like her—mainstream, carefully coordinated, and aggressively normal. Blue and silver balloons decorated every surface, matching her dress perfectly. Her parents had reserved the entire back room, and I could see them through the window, arranging gift bags with military precision.

My phone buzzed one last time before I had to go in:

E: At my dress fitting. The seamstress keeps talking about "the perfect day." E: I keep thinking about running. E: Are you at the party yet?

Me: About to go in. Her parents are here. Me: I feel sick.

E: Whatever happens tonight, remember you're not alone in this.

"There's my baby girl!" Sarah's mom called out as we entered, rushing over to envelop her daughter in a hug. She gave me a meaningful look over Sarah's shoulder. "And Tris! We're so glad you could make it."

The weight behind those words was unmistakable. Sarah's father approached, clapping me on the shoulder. "Big night, son," he said with a wink that made my stomach turn.

The next hour passed in a blur of rehearsed smiles and small talk. Sarah's college friends arrived in a gaggle of identical summer dresses and carefully crafted Instagram poses. Her younger sister kept glancing at my pocket, probably expecting to see a ring box outline. The promise ring felt like it was burning against my skin.

"Speech time!" Sarah's mom announced, tapping her glass with a spoon. "Who wants to go first?"

Several people stood up to share stories about Sarah—her kindness, her determination, her perfect wedding Pinterest board she'd been curating since high school. Each word felt like another brick being stacked on my chest.

"Tris?" Sarah's dad called out. "Surely you have something special to say?"

The room fell silent. Every eye turned to me. Sarah looked up expectantly, hope shining in her eyes. This was the moment—the one her parents had been building toward all night. The perfect birthday surprise.

I stood up slowly, my legs shaking. The words I was supposed to say sat like ash on my tongue. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The silence stretched.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. Without thinking, I pulled it out.

E: I just told my fiancé I need some air. E: I can't breathe in this perfect life anymore. E: I keep thinking about your mom's words. About the universe making introductions.

"Tris?" Sarah's voice pulled me back. "Is everything okay?"

I looked around the room—at the matching decorations, at Sarah's parents' expectant faces, at the life they'd all planned out for us. It was like watching a movie of someone else's happiness.

"I..." My voice cracked. "I need to use the bathroom."

I practically ran from the table, Sarah's mom's voice floating after me: "Don't be too long! We haven't even cut the cake yet!"

In my pocket, my phone buzzed again:

E: I'm at the cemetery. E: I don't know where else to go.

The bathroom door closed behind me with a final-sounding click. I stared at myself in the mirror, at the blue shirt that matched Sarah's dress, at the promise ring that felt like a handcuff, at the stranger wearing my face.

Something was about to break. I could feel it coming, like the pressure before a storm.

Like the universe making introductions.