New Year’s Romance (2025)

Chapter 1 – Shattered Fireworks Cassie’s POV The New Year’s Eve party is a swirl of color, laughter, and the soft clinking of champagne glasses. Music hums in the background — upbeat, festive, like the whole world is in on a secret celebration. The rooftop venue is stunning, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a perfect view of the city skyline. Lights flicker like tiny stars, and just beyond, fireworks wait for their moment to shine. I smooth my hands over my satin emerald-green dress, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement flutter in my chest. The cool fabric hugs my figure, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass reflection. I look... happy. No, more than happy. I look like a woman with a secret, a beautiful one she’s ready to share. I glance at Henry across the room. He’s standing with a group of his colleagues, his suit perfectly tailored to his broad frame. His deep laugh echoes as he tilts his head back, flashing that charming smile I once fell for. My heart warms at the sight of him, and I lightly press my fingers against my stomach. Our baby. I can’t believe it. After all the hoping, the waiting, the tests that ended in disappointment — this one was different. Positive. Two bold little lines that changed everything. "Tonight," I whisper to myself. "I’ll tell him tonight." I imagine it perfectly. As the fireworks explode in the sky, I’ll pull him aside, hold his hand, and say, 'We’re going to be parents, Henry.' He’ll lift me off the ground, spin me in the air, and kiss me like we’re the only two people in the world. It’s everything I’ve dreamed of. “Cassie!” My friend Lana's voice cuts through my thoughts. She’s making her way toward me, her red dress clinging to her like a second skin. “You’re just standing here like a statue. Come on, live a little! It’s New Year’s!” I smile, letting her drag me toward the dance floor. “I’m fine, Lana. Just thinking about something.” “About Henry, no doubt,” she teases, throwing me a sly grin. “Girl, you’re glowing. What, did he finally agree to that trip to Paris?” “Something like that,” I say with a secret smile. I’m terrible at hiding things from Lana, but this? This is mine for now. We dance for a while, laughing, twirling under the soft, golden glow of the lights. The music shifts, the beat slower now, softer. I glance over at Henry, ready to call him over for a dance, but something makes me stop. He’s not alone anymore. There’s a woman beside him. Blonde hair. Red lipstick. Her laugh is a little too loud, her touch a little too familiar. She presses her hand on his arm, tilting her head like she’s hanging on every word he says. I blink. It’s nothing, I tell myself. She’s probably just a colleague. Someone from work. But then Henry leans in. Just a little too close. Close enough that I see it for what it is — not just a casual conversation, but something more. My heart goes cold. I can’t hear the music anymore. I can’t hear Lana calling my name. It’s like all the noise in the room fades into a dull, distant hum. He laughs again, that same laugh I loved, but now it cuts me like glass. I watch as she touches his tie, fingers brushing the silk like she has every right to. And the worst part? He lets her. “Cassie?” Lana’s voice is right next to me now, her eyes sharp with concern. “You good?” I swallow hard, forcing my eyes away. I nod quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She follows my gaze, her face twisting in confusion as she sees them. “Oh, no. No, no, no,” she mutters. “He wouldn’t. Henry wouldn’t do that, right? I mean, that’s not what it looks like.” But it is. It’s exactly what it looks like. I should walk over there. Confront him. Ask him straight up, Who is she, Henry? Why is she touching you like that? But my feet feel bolted to the ground. My chest is tight, like I’m breathing in shards of glass. “I need some air,” I mumble, stepping away from Lana before she can stop me. I push through the crowd, dodging partygoers with champagne in hand, until I reach the glass doors leading to the balcony. The cold night air hits me like a slap. It’s sharp, but I welcome it. It clears my head. I grip the balcony railing with both hands, squeezing so tight my knuckles turn white. Don’t cry, Cassie. Not here. Not now. I press my lips together, forcing myself to breathe slowly. You don’t know the whole story. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe you’re overthinking it. But the image is burned into my mind. Her hand on his tie. His easy smile. His eyes locked on her like she’s the only one in the room. I hear the door slide open behind me, and for a second, hope rises in my chest. Maybe it’s Henry. Maybe he noticed I’m gone. “Cassie?” Lana’s voice again. She steps up beside me, her breath puffing out in white clouds. “I’m not letting you stand out here alone, girl. Come on, talk to me.” I shake my head, staring out at the city lights. “There’s nothing to say.” “There’s plenty to say. I saw his face too. And hers.” She pauses. “If you want me to drag her out of here by her hair, just say the word.” That makes me laugh, a short, bitter sound I didn’t expect. “Thanks, but I think I’m done fighting for things that should already be mine.” Lana's quiet for a moment. Then, she says softly, “You sure you’re okay?” “Not really,” I admit. “But I will be.” I glance back at the party, at Henry still standing in the same spot, still talking to her. No guilt. No shame. Like I’m invisible. A cold, steady realization settles into me like a stone at the bottom of a lake. I deserve better. I turn back to Lana, my voice firmer now. “I’m leaving.” Her eyes go wide. “Leaving, like... tonight?” “Yeah.” I nod once, sharp and sure. “Tonight.” The words feel final. Like closing a door, locking it, and tossing the key away. --- Back at the apartment, everything feels too quiet. My emerald-green dress hangs like a shadow in my closet. I’m already in sweatpants and a hoodie, barefoot on the cold hardwood floor. My phone buzzes on the kitchen counter, Henry’s name flashing across the screen. I stare at it for a long moment before picking it up. Not answering. Not tonight. Not ever. The screen goes dark. Silence again. I walk to the kitchen table, pull out a folder from my purse, and lay the divorce papers flat. I’ve had them for weeks. Just in case. I click the pen, the sharp snap echoing in the room. My hand hovers for a moment, heart thudding in my chest. I think of the baby growing inside me, small but strong. I think of that woman touching his tie, his smile so careless. Then, I sign my name. It’s clean. Simple. Quiet. No grand confrontation. No screaming match. Just ink on paper. And it’s done. For the first time in a long time, I feel free. The fireworks go off outside. I hear the distant booms, see the flashes of color light up the sky through the window. They’re beautiful, like I imagined they’d be. But I’m not looking at them anymore. I’m looking ahead.