A Final Meeting with a Friend
I summoned Sophia. Not our old haunt. To the bench in the park below our building. She arrived briskly, chin lifted, in a tailored cashmere coat like stepping from a winning negotiation. Seeing my swollen eyes, she hesitated, a flicker of complexity crossing her face before calm resumed. She sat beside me. The bench felt cold. "Lily, I know this hurts," she began, detached as discussing a project. "But emotions defy reason." Defy reason? I turned, locking eyes. Her once-familiar face blurred like frosted glass. "So?" I asked. "What are you saying? That you couldn't resist? That I'm the spare?" "I didn't say that." She averted her gaze to barren trees."Ethan needs me. At work, in life. He's overwhelmed, and you..." She paused, weighing words.
"You've focused on Emma too long. You can't give him what he needs." Focused on Emma? I nearly laughed coldly. "So you became his full-time support? From office to hotel to your bedroom?" Her face hardened instantly, frost-coated. "Lily! Don't be crude! It's complicated! More than romance! We share a mission! A vision! NestIQ is like our..." "Child?" I spat, voice shrill. "Your and Ethan's shared child? Ha! What am I? What's Emma? Unwanted obstacles?!" My outburst silenced her. Color drained and flushed her cheeks. "Sophia," I stood, towering over her, trembling with rage and grief. "For four college years, I shared my bunk. When you sobbed heartbroken, who held you? My wedding—you were my only bridesmaid!" My voice broke; vision blurred. "I must have been blind to lead this wolf to my husband." I walked away. Not one step back. Behind me, her urgent call: "Lily! Listen..." Wind scattered the rest. I never looked back.
Catching Them in the Act
The strength that lifted me from the bench vanished by the street corner. I leaned against cold brick, gasping, tears flooding. Despair coiled like vines around my heart. No. This couldn't end here. A mad impulse seized me: Go to Sophia's. Now. See where their "shared child" was conceived! I hailed a cab. "Maplewood Apartments." My throat ached. The car sped through night, streetlights a surreal dream. I clutched my phone, nails digging into palms. Arrived. The familiar building. Sophia's unit—I'd brought her home drunk countless times. I pounded the door with all my might.
Bang! Bang! Echoes like a broken drum in the silent hall. No response. Again. Rustling sounds inside—whispered panic. Click. The door cracked open. Sophia appeared in a robe, hair messy, face alarmed: "Lily?! You..." I ignored her. My gaze, venom-tipped, shot past her shoulder. Down the dim-lit hall to the bedroom. Ethan stood there—bare-chested, in pajama bottoms. Chest heaving, face bloodless, eyes terrified as seeing a ghost. The bedroom door ajar, warm light spilling onto a discarded shirt on the carpet. The one I'd ironed. The world muted. All sound—banging, gasps, blood roaring—vanished into silence. Only this image burned onto my retinas, blindingly stark.
NEXT >>
I summoned Sophia. Not our old haunt. To the bench in the park below our building. She arrived briskly, chin lifted, in a tailored cashmere coat like stepping from a winning negotiation. Seeing my swollen eyes, she hesitated, a flicker of complexity crossing her face before calm resumed. She sat beside me. The bench felt cold. "Lily, I know this hurts," she began, detached as discussing a project. "But emotions defy reason." Defy reason? I turned, locking eyes. Her once-familiar face blurred like frosted glass. "So?" I asked. "What are you saying? That you couldn't resist? That I'm the spare?" "I didn't say that." She averted her gaze to barren trees."Ethan needs me. At work, in life. He's overwhelmed, and you..." She paused, weighing words.
"You've focused on Emma too long. You can't give him what he needs." Focused on Emma? I nearly laughed coldly. "So you became his full-time support? From office to hotel to your bedroom?" Her face hardened instantly, frost-coated. "Lily! Don't be crude! It's complicated! More than romance! We share a mission! A vision! NestIQ is like our..." "Child?" I spat, voice shrill. "Your and Ethan's shared child? Ha! What am I? What's Emma? Unwanted obstacles?!" My outburst silenced her. Color drained and flushed her cheeks. "Sophia," I stood, towering over her, trembling with rage and grief. "For four college years, I shared my bunk. When you sobbed heartbroken, who held you? My wedding—you were my only bridesmaid!" My voice broke; vision blurred. "I must have been blind to lead this wolf to my husband." I walked away. Not one step back. Behind me, her urgent call: "Lily! Listen..." Wind scattered the rest. I never looked back.
Catching Them in the Act
The strength that lifted me from the bench vanished by the street corner. I leaned against cold brick, gasping, tears flooding. Despair coiled like vines around my heart. No. This couldn't end here. A mad impulse seized me: Go to Sophia's. Now. See where their "shared child" was conceived! I hailed a cab. "Maplewood Apartments." My throat ached. The car sped through night, streetlights a surreal dream. I clutched my phone, nails digging into palms. Arrived. The familiar building. Sophia's unit—I'd brought her home drunk countless times. I pounded the door with all my might.
Bang! Bang! Echoes like a broken drum in the silent hall. No response. Again. Rustling sounds inside—whispered panic. Click. The door cracked open. Sophia appeared in a robe, hair messy, face alarmed: "Lily?! You..." I ignored her. My gaze, venom-tipped, shot past her shoulder. Down the dim-lit hall to the bedroom. Ethan stood there—bare-chested, in pajama bottoms. Chest heaving, face bloodless, eyes terrified as seeing a ghost. The bedroom door ajar, warm light spilling onto a discarded shirt on the carpet. The one I'd ironed. The world muted. All sound—banging, gasps, blood roaring—vanished into silence. Only this image burned onto my retinas, blindingly stark.
NEXT >>
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