The end of a rehearsal dinner is different from a wedding. Even if it's late, there's still that sense of anticipation and excitement, the big event still ahead. That is, if you're a guest. When you're working, it's one down, one to go.

"You're sure? You won't get upset?"

I gave Sehun an apologetic look, knowing I deserved this. "No. And I shouldn't have earlier. I'm just super grumpy, for some reason. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said. Then, as I watched, he closed his eyes, blowing out the candle between us. I wondered what he wished for. I'd never ask, though. "I didn't realize Kyungsoo was such a bust as a date."

"He wasn't," I told him, blowing out the next candle. "It's me."

"Tzuyu seems to think otherwise."

"You talked to Tzuyu about this?"

"Well, yeah," he said. He glanced at me. "You weren't yourself, and Kyungsoo is her best friend. I figured she'd have insight."

I supposed I deserved this, too, but it was harder to take somehow. "Did she?"

"She said," he replied, moving to the next table, "that he is great if you've known him forever, like she has, but that in college he's become a bit . . ."

I waited, curious about exactly what adjective would follow. This was not the case when you filled it in.

". . . intolerable," he finished. He blew out another candle. "She blames his writing professor and hopes it's just a phase. But she understood he probably isn't the best boyfriend material right now."

"Good thing I'm not the one who has to stick in the long-term relationship," I commented.

"Oh, I've got you beat, no question," he replied. "Tzuyu will make it easy."

After all the whistling, humming, bouncy steps, and general good cheer, the fact he felt this way shouldn't have been any kind of surprise to me. But hearing it, for whatever reason, was still difficult. I had a flash of him standing behind me, cutting that cake, then quickly ignore that image. "She seems great," I said.

"She's awesome." He moved over to the next table. "Don't feel bad, it was just a super of luck she showed up when she did that night."

"I'm still in this," I reminded him. "All I have to do is date a bunch of people once, and I'm doing that."

"True," he agreed. Out on the street, someone drove past, tires squealing. I could only hope it wasn't one of the valets. "So you're saying you have another candidate already lined up?"

"I'm working on it," I said, which wasn't exactly a lie, if thinking counted as working. What I'd actually been pondering, a bit worriedly, was that if Gayeon was so into Im Jaebum, I'd be losing the one person who was happy to set me up repeatedly. Unless he had a friend. Or, um, lots of friends.

"Well, good," Sehun said. "It's no fun if we can't keep it interesting."

"Don't worry about that. You just focus on you," I said, walking over to another table and bending over the row of small candles to blow them out. Once done, I looked up to see him staring at me. "What?"

"You really don't make a wish? Like, ever?"

"It's not my birthday, and this isn't a cake," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but it doesn't have to be. Why wouldn't you ask for something, given the chance?"

"Birthdays are special. These are just candles."

"Still counts," he said firmly.

"Sehun, come on."

"What? You don't need anything? Your life is perfect?"

"It's just a wish," I said. "I don't want to burst your bubble, but just because you make them doesn't increase the chances of them working."

"You're still putting it out there, though," he countered. "Into the universe. Has to count."

I looked down at the row of flames, still lit. "Let's just agree to disagree, okay? It's your thing, like stealing dogs and doing the conga. Doesn't mean it has to be mine, right?"

"That's how you think of me?" he asked, and I smiled. "Dog stealer and conga dancer?"

"And wish maker," I added. "I'm just not. That's okay, right?"

He held my gaze for a second, and I had an thought, out of nowhere, that he might say it wasn't. Instead, though, he came over and bent down, the closed his eyes, blowing out the row from one end to another. When he was done, he gave me a smile, then walked off to the next table. It wasn't until later, driving home, that I realized he'd never answered my question. But I knew the real reply to his. My last birthday, I'd closed my eyes and thought of nothing when I leaned over my cake. You stop believing in wishes when the only one you want to make can never come true.