I never imagined that my 35th birthday would become the worst day of my life. I usually didn’t make a big deal out of this day, but this time, I wanted warmth, comfort, and connection. I decided to celebrate at home: set the table, cook my signature dishes, and invite my closest friends — the people I had been through fire, water, and sleepless nights with.
We agreed to meet at my place at six. I spent the whole day on my feet — bought fresh groceries, marinated meat, made soup, baked a pie, and set a beautiful table. Everything looked perfect: candles, music, wine glasses, napkins, elegant setup. I even felt a bit of nervous excitement, like before a first date.
At exactly six, I was already standing by the window, looking out at the road. Silence. No one.
“They’re just late,” I thought, pouring myself a glass of wine. I knew some of them were often late. That’s normal. I waited. Another half hour passed. Still no one.
I started to feel anxious. With each passing minute, the heaviness grew. I checked my phone — no messages, no calls. I texted our group chat: “Where are you?” Silence. Nothing.
Thoughts started spinning in my head: “What if they forgot?”, “Maybe they got the day wrong?”, “Did I do or say something wrong?” I felt how each sip of wine made my throat tighter. It hurt. One by one, I started calling them — but no one picked up. No one at all.
An hour passed. Then another.
I sat at the beautifully set table, across from empty plates, staring at them as if they could give me answers. I suddenly felt small and unwanted. With the cheerful music still playing in the background, it felt like I was part of a cruel prank.
By ten in the evening, I got up. In silence, I started clearing the dishes. Still hoping someone would come in and yell, “Surprise! We were just messing with you!” But that didn’t happen. And then I found out why no one came — and I was horrified 😳😳
I was about to go to bed when I received a message from my sister:
“Did you see the news? I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to tell you… There was an accident. Their car… they were on their way to your place…”
I froze. I opened the internet. The first headlines read:
“Collision on the highway… three dead…”
It was them. My friends. They really were on their way to see me. All in one car.
That night, I didn’t cry anymore — I just sat in the dark, listening to the drip of water from the faucet. The wine remained untouched. I never cleared the plates. I stared at them like it was my last attempt to gather everyone together.
And me, a selfish man, thought they had forgotten. I never even imagined something terrible could have happened to them.
