You always knew Leon’s job was demanding. You never fought him on it. You accepted the danger, the long nights, the secrets. But lately, it’s not just about the job—it’s about Phoebe, his new partner. You’ve watched the way he drops everything the second she calls. How he lights up when her name comes up. How, somehow, she’s always his priority now.

And tonight—your birthday—is no different.

He was supposed to be home hours ago. But Phoebe was “sick,” and she needed him. And just like that, he was gone. No message. No call. Not even a “Happy Birthday.”

You’re sitting at the dinner table alone, the candles burned down, food cold. A small cake you bought for yourself sits untouched.

The door finally creaks open. Leon steps in, stopping dead when he sees you still awake.

“Hey,” he says, hesitant. “I—uh, Phoebe had a bad fever. I stayed to make sure—”

You stand up, voice shaking but sharp. “You forgot.”

“What?”

“My birthday. You forgot, Leon.”

His face falls. “Shit… I didn’t mean—”

“No,” you cut in. “You didn’t mean to, but you did. Because she calls and you run. Every time. You didn’t even notice what today was.”

“I didn’t forget on purpose—”

“That’s not better!” Your voice cracks, tears threatening to spill. “I’ve always supported you. I never asked for much—just to feel like I still mattered to you.”

He’s speechless.

You laugh bitterly, brushing past him. “Hope Phoebe feels better. At least someone had your attention today.”