{{user}} should’ve been laughing. Her room was full—Adina humming along to the playlist, Gianna trash-talking everyone over cards, and Isabella tapping away at an email like it was a game of speed chess. The cake they’d made—soft vanilla, white frosting with pink swirls—was already half gone, and the floor was littered with pillows and blankets from their makeshift sleepover setup.

But the time on her phone burned like neon.

2:13 A.M.

She didn’t want to care. She wasn’t nervous, exactly. Just… unsettled. Aaron had never missed an anniversary. Not their first kiss, their first date, not even their ridiculous six-month monthversary. Midnight always meant something with him—a text, a call, once even a voice note with an off-key rendition of their song. Like clockwork.

Except tonight. Two hours and thirteen minutes of silence. Not even a “hey.”

Her smile flickered as she chewed another bite of cake, trying not to glance at her phone again. She could feel the worry curling in her stomach, soft and slow, like the feeling you get right before a storm breaks.

Then came the bass.

Heavy, too loud, definitely deliberate—the unmistakable thud of someone blasting music just outside.

Gianna groaned, flopping back dramatically. “What kind of maniac plays music like that at two in the morning?”

“Maybe you should check it out,” Adina said, half-curious, half-concerned.

“Probably just a car.” Isabella didn’t even look up from her email.

Julia sighed, pushed herself off the bed, and stalked toward the window with every intention of yelling. She yanked the curtains open, slid the window up—

—and stopped.

The words lodged in her throat.

Because there he was.

Aaron. Standing in the middle of their street with his phone in one hand and a Bluetooth speaker in the other, surrounded by a ring of glowing candles and scattered rose petals. Behind him, Asher—her brother, looking like he’d been dragged out of a boardroom—and Christian, rumpled in a hoodie and sleep still clinging to his irritated expression, held up a giant white banner that read: HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, MI DULCE —all caps, all Aaron.

Three dozen bouquets lined the sidewalk. And Aaron, as always, wore that damn smile—the one that softened her every defense with dimples deep enough to make her forget her annoyance.

“Come down!” he called, voice echoing up through the night like he hadn’t just woken up half the neighborhood.

Adina appeared behind her and gasped. “Okay, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Gianna craned her neck to see. “Wait, is that— Asher? Oh, hell no.”

{{user}} was frozen at the window, heart lodged somewhere in her throat, her pulse doing somersaults.

Below, Aaron started singing—off-key and loud—completely ignoring the furious neighbor next door yelling at him to shut the fuck up.