Three Hundred and Sixty Five What?? Hell No!!

ARIA. “You sure you don’t want me to walk up with you?” Hannah asked as I pulled my car into the snowy driveway of Mason’s private lodge. “No, it’s okay,” I smiled, carefully lifting the heavy cake box into my lap. “I want to surprise him in bed. He said he was going to sleep in late today since they don’t have hockey practice until four.” Hanneh stared at me for a long moment. Her eyes were hard, but then she blinked, and that familiar, friendly expression slid back into place. “Right. A sweet birthday surprise. Good luck, babe. Call me if you need a ride back later.” “Thanks, Han. You’re the best.” I stepped out into the biting winter air, holding the box with both hands. My boots crunched softly against the fresh snow as I walked up the porch steps. The lodge was quiet, surrounded by tall trees that blocked out the noise of the main campus. I checked the handle. Unlocked. Mason always forgot to lock the front door when he was home alone. I pushed the door open, stepping into the warm entryway. The sweet, rich scent of chocolate frosting drifted up from the box, making me smile. I imagined the look on his face when he woke up to the smell of his favorite cake. I imagined the way he would wrap his arms around my waist, pull me down into the sheets, and tell me how much he loved me. Quietly, I kicked off my snow-covered boots and tiptoed past the small living room, making my way down the dimly lit hallway toward his bedroom at the very end. The door was cracked open just an inch. I took a deep breath, a flutter of excitement rising in my throat. I reached out with one finger and pushed the wooden door open. “Happy birth—” The words died in my throat and the air left my lungs all at once, as if someone had slammed a hockey stick directly into my ribs. The room wasn’t quiet and the bed was a mess of tangled white sheets. Mason was lying on his back, his hands pulled up over his head, bound tightly to the iron headboard with silver handcuffs. And sitting directly on top of him, her shirt discarded on the floor, was Tessa. The sudden draft from the opening door made them both freeze. Tessa turned her head slowly. Her hair was messy, her lips swollen. She didn’t jump off him or scramble to pull up a blanket. Instead, a slow, ugly smirk spread across her face. Mason looked over at me, his face flushed. But there was no guilt in his eyes. There was no panic. He just burst into laughter. “Oh, man,” Mason wheezed, shaking his head against the pillows. “Look at her face.” Tessa giggled, leaning back against his legs and crossing her arms over her bare chest. “I told you she’d show up early, Mase. She’s so predictable.” My hands began to tremble violently. The world around me spun out of focus, narrowing down to the two of them in that bed. “Tessa...?” I whispered, my voice breaking into a tiny, pathetic crack. “Mason?” “What is that?” Mason asked, tilting his head toward the pink box in my hands. He let out another harsh laugh. “Did you actually make me a cake, Aria? What are you, twelve?” “She spent all morning on it,” Tessa mocked, looking right into my eyes with a cold, cruel satisfaction that made my skin crawl. “She really thought you cared about her, Mase.” “I told you she was naive,” Mason chuckled, pulling against the handcuffs casually. “Hey, Aria, do us a favor and close the door on your way out. You’re letting the cold air in.” A sharp, violent sting burned behind my eyes. The chocolate cake, the three hours in the kitchen, the sweet notes, the love I thought we shared—it was all a joke to them. Every single bit of it. My fingers lost all their strength and the box slipped from my hands. It hit the floor with a wet thud. The cardboard collapsed, splattering white frosting and chocolate crumbs across the floorboards and over the toes of my socks. Tessa laughed louder. Mason just shook his head, looking back up at her as if I had already ceased to exist. I didn’t say another word. I couldn't. I turned around and sprinted down the hallway. I burst through the front door and threw myself out onto the porch, gasping for air as if I were drowning. The freezing wind slapped my face, freezing the hot tears that immediately streamed down my cheeks. I stumbled down the porch steps, my bare socks soaking through with freezing slush, but I couldn't feel the cold. I couldn't feel anything except the unbearable, crushing pain in my chest. My heart felt so heavy. For the first time in an agonizingly long year, he hadn’t made me feel like a heavy stone was sitting on my chest. Ever since my sister Lily died, every single day had felt like waking up into a cold nightmare. The anger, the grief, and the bitter hatred I carried for Kellan Hayes—the hockey team’s star captain who was the last person to see her alive usually ate up every corner of my mind. I spent half my nights awake, typing hateful messages from anonymous accounts, trying to ruin Kellan’s bright, golden reputation the same way my family’s life had been ruined. But today wasn’t about Lily, and it wasn’t about Kellan. Today was about Mason. That was what I had thought before seeing him in a bed with my bestfriend! When I was drowning in tears months ago, Mason was the one who pulled me out. He was warm, safe, and sweet. He loved me. I thought he did. It was too much. The memory of Lily’s quiet funeral, the endless nights spent crying in the dark, the sickening feeling of being completely unwanted—it all rushed back at once, suffocating me. I felt so small. So stupid. So completely alone in the world. I made it halfway to the tree line before my knees gave out. I collapsed into the snow, buried my face in my hands, and let out a choked, ragged sob. How could they do this? I hated them. I hated Mason. I hated Tessa. I hated the world for taking my sister and leaving me with people who treated my heart like trash. “Hey.” A deep, smooth voice cut through the sound of my crying. I froze. Footsteps crunched against the snow, slow and, coming from the shadowed path near the side of the lodge. A tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped out from under the dark canopy of the trees. He was wearing a green team jacket with a bold white number on the sleeve. My breathing hitched in my throat and my heart stopped beating altogether. Standing right in front of me, looking down at my tear-streaked face, was Kellan Hayes.