I never imagined that my 35th birthday would turn out to be the worst day of my life. Normally, I didn’t make a big deal out of it, but this time, I craved warmth, coziness, and connection. I decided to celebrate at home: set the table, cook my signature dishes, and invite my dearest friends — people with whom I had been through fire, water, and countless sleepless nights.
We agreed to meet at my place at six. I spent the whole day on my feet — bought fresh groceries, marinated the meat, cooked soup, baked a pie, and set a beautiful table. Everything looked perfect: candles, music, wine glasses, napkins, the table setting. I even felt a slight nervous excitement, the kind you get before a first date.
Right at six, I was already standing by the window, glancing at the road. Silence. No one.
“They’re running late,” I thought, pouring myself a glass of wine. I knew some of them were often late. That was normal. I waited some more. Half an hour passed. Still no one.
I started to feel uneasy. With each passing minute, the unease turned into a heavy feeling in my chest. I checked my phone — no messages, no calls. I wrote in the group chat: “Where are you?” Silence. Nothing.
Thoughts began to swirl in my mind: “Did they forget?”, “Maybe they got the date wrong?”, “Did I do or say something wrong?” I felt a lump forming in my throat with every sip of wine. It hurt. One by one, I dialed their numbers — no one answered. Not a single person.
An hour passed. Then another.
I sat at the beautifully set table, facing the empty plates, staring at them as if they could give me an answer. Suddenly, I felt small and unwanted. With cheerful music still playing from the speakers, I felt like I was part of some cruel prank.
At ten o’clock in the evening, I stood up. Silently. I slowly began to clear the dishes. Still hoping someone would burst in and shout, “Surprise! We were just joking!” But that didn’t happen.
And then I found out why none of them came — and I was simply horrified. 😢
I was just about to go to bed when I received a message from my sister:
“Did you see the news? Sorry, I didn’t know how to tell you… There was an accident. Their car… they were on their way to you.”
I froze. I went online. The first headlines in the news feed read: “Collision on the highway… three dead…”
After that, everything blurred before my eyes.
It was them. My friends. They really were coming to see me. All in one car.
That night, I didn’t cry anymore — I just sat in the dark and listened to water dripping from the faucet. The wine remained untouched. And I didn’t clear the plates anymore. I looked at them as if they were my last attempt to bring everyone together.
And I, selfish as I was, thought they had forgotten and never even imagined something bad had happened to them.
