The CEO’s Bed Toy

It was finally my 26th birthday. One I had been anticipating for months.

I'd picked the venue three weeks in advance. A small, cozy rooftop restaurant tucked between two high-rise buildings in downtown Manhattan.. classy but not loud.

There was a three- tier vanilla cake with gold accents sitting at the edge of the buffet table, like it knew something magical was supposed to happen tonight.

And maybe it was. At least, I thought so.

I smoothed my palm over my emerald -green satin dress and let out a breath, trying to ignore the pounding in my chest.

From across the room, a few colleagues from college were raising glasses. Everyone was talking, laughing, nibbling on hors d’ oeuvres. It was perfect. Almost.

Except Troy wasn't here.

I glanced at the entrance for what must have been the sixth time in ten minutes, heart doing a hopeful little flip every time someone walked in.

He had promised a surprise.

Told me to “just trust him” with this dreamy, secretive smile two nights ago when I asked what his plans were. I hadn't pushed.. I wanted to believe he was finally stepping up.

Maybe a necklace, or that weekend trip to Maine I’d been hinting at for months.

Or hell, even just flowers and a damn speech.

This dinner mattered. He knew it.

But now, my stomach was tightening, and not in the good way. I checked my phone.. again. Still no message. No missed call.

Instead, a text popped up from Eliza.

LIZA :

Stuck in traffic again. God, NY sucks. Be there in ten. How’s it going, birthday queen?

I smiled a little. Eliza had been my rock for the last five years.. well since I lost my parents in that car crash.. loud, brutally honest, and always ready with lip gloss and damage control.

Her running late wasn't new. But at least she’d shown up, even if just digitally.

I texted her back quickly.

ME:

Waiting on Troy. You won’t believe this.. he’s not here yet.

Her typing bubbles appeared, then disappeared. Reappeared. Then she replied:

LIZA :

Seriously? Didn't he promise fireworks or some weird big thing?

I sighed. Exactly.

The waiter passed by with a tray of sparkling rosé. I grabbed a glass, more for something to do than because I actually wanted it. It was getting harder to smile now.

I could feel people starting to notice. Even my manager had come up earlier and said something like, “You must be so proud of him.. planning this all by himself!” And I’d just nodded like a fool.

My phone lit up again. Not Troy.

Another guest. “Happy birthday, Sasha ! This is amazing!”

“Thanks,” I said, voice flat.

I dialed him again. Straight to voicemail. I texted.

Hey. Everything okay? Everyone’s here… Where are you?

No read receipts.

I stared at my phone until the screen dimmed.

Then.. the mic screeched a little, followed by a cheerful voice from the host.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming out to celebrate Sasha's 26th birthday tonight. We hope you’ re enjoying yourselves… ”

Before he could finish, the restaurant door opened.

Heads turned. I turned.

And finally.. Troy walked in.

And everything in me shifted.

He was wearing the same navy shirt from our last dinner, sleeves rolled up, watch glinting under the lights. Sharp, clean, handsome as always. But… off.

He wasn't smiling. He wasn't carrying flowers or a box or even making eye contact. He just walked straight toward me, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.

I rushed to him anyway, the smile already breaking across my face. “ Troy ! I’ ve been waiting since forever. What happened? Where… ”

“We need to talk,” he said.

I froze.

“What?” I blinked. “Can’t it wait till after? Everyone’s here. Let’s just… ”

“I can’t,” he said quietly. “It’s now or never.”

The music was still playing. People were still clapping in the background. Someone had popped a champagne bottle.

But everything slowed for me.

Troy looked at me like I was a stranger.

“I’m not doing this anymore,” he said.

The words didn't register at first.

“Doing what?” I asked, confused.

“This,” he gestured between us. “Us.”

My mouth parted. “You’ re joking.”

He shook his head once. “I’ ve been thinking about it for a while. I didn't want to ruin your night. But dragging it out would’ ve been worse.”

A few heads were turning. I felt it.

“ Troy, what are you saying?” My voice dropped. “You said you had a surprise.”

“I do,” he said bitterly. “It’s honesty.”

Silence stretched around us like rubber about to snap.

“I feel stuck, Sasha,” he said. “I’m almost thirty. I thought I’d have more by now. I don’t know what I’m doing. And being with you... it’s not helping me figure it out.”

The words hit like ice water.

I wanted to disappear.

People were watching now. Whispering. I could hear my name being passed between lips. Laughter in the corners. My cousin standing frozen near the gift table.

“You’ re dumping me?” I said, voice cracking. “On my birthday? In front of… ”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t keep pretending.”

He held one last gaze and without any more words, turned and walked out.

Just like that.

I stood there. Rooted. Humiliated. Cold. Shocked.

Everything blurred. My legs, my face, the music, the lights. The room spun, then slowed. I don’t even know how long I stood there.

Was this.. a dream?

Then my phone started ringing. I fumbled for it, blinking back whatever was trying to rise in my throat.

Liza.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Girl, what the hell is going on?! I just got here and I swear I saw Troy storming out looking like a washed-up villain. What happened?”

My lips wouldn't move.

“I’ ve been calling you for ten minutes trying to ask what shoes to wear,” she said. “I thought you were too busy being spoiled, not publicly dumped.”

“ I…I can’t...he just...he left.”

A pause. Then: “Where are you?”

“By the cake,” I whispered.

“Stay there.”

A minute later, she was beside me. Blue heels, big hoops, no smile.

“ Liz… ”

“ Nope,” she cut in, looping her arm through mine. “You’ re not explaining anything. You’ re not standing here like a broken doll while people try to piece together your life. We’ re leaving.”

“ But… ”

She was already pulling me toward the exit.

“Your party’s over. And so is that man-child’s career in your heart.”

I let her lead me. I was too stunned to argue.

We got into a waiting Uber. She shoved a bottle of wine into my hand.. from where, I had no idea.

I stared at the floor of the car. My chest was too tight to speak.

Eliza turned to me, eyes sharp, voice low.

“You’ re not crying on your birthday.”

I finally looked at her.

“You’ re dancing. Get up.”