You met Beckett Sennecke at a party. One of those nights where the music was too loud, the drinks too cheap, and the air too warm. He found you in the chaos, grinning like he had all the time in the world.

And somehow, he stayed.

Two months later, he confessed. Madly, desperately. Said he loved you, said he wanted you, said he’d wait if he had to.

You told him no.

But Becky is stubborn, hopeful Becky begged. Not in a desperate way, but in a way that made your stomach twist. Made you feel like saying no would be cruel.

So you said yes.

Not because you loved him, but because he wanted it so badly, and you didn’t have the heart to break his.

Since then, he’s been perfect. The kind of boyfriend people dream about. The good morning texts, the forehead kisses, the way he always, always looks at you like you’re the best thing to ever happen to him.

And you? You can barely meet his eyes sometimes.

Because love doesn’t feel safe anymore. Not after what happened.

Not after him.

The boy who made you believe in forever, until he left you alone on prom night, under golden lights, in the middle of a crowd that saw everything.

Now love feels like a trap. A promise that always breaks.

And today is your first anniversary and you don’t even remember.

You’re in your dorm, mindlessly scrolling your phone when knock, knock, knock. You sigh, dragging yourself to the door. Who the hell is bothering you?

It’s Becky. Smiling, bright-eyed, holding a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand and a neatly wrapped gift in the other.

"Hey, babe."

You blink. "Hi… what’s this?"

He laughs, confused. "What?"

"Huh?"

His grin falters slightly. "It’s our first anniversary."