Chapter 1

On our anniversary, Mia booked the restaurant for us.

"A window table is impossible to get," she chuckled over the phone. "They only held it because it was me asking."

"Sounds great. Thanks, Mia," I said.

She paused briefly. "Come on, since when are we so polite? It's you and me."

Mia had been my best friend for fifteen years, all the way from high school.

She was even close with my boyfriend, Ethan.

How close?

Close enough to know his debit card PIN.

Close enough to call Ethan first when her pipes burst, instead of calling me.

Close enough that Ethan's mom once sighed and said she wished Mia were her future daughter-in-law.

I always told myself they just had matching personalities.

Mia was bubbly and outgoing; I was on the quiet side.

Whenever the three of us had dinner, they did all the talking, and I just smiled along.

On the afternoon of our anniversary, I arrived at the restaurant first.

After waiting for half an hour, Ethan texted me: [Stuck in traffic. Be there in ten.]

Ten minutes later: [Mia’s car broke down. I’m picking her up on the way.]

My chest tightened. I typed back: [It’s our anniversary dinner. Why are you bringing Mia?]

Ethan replied instantly.

[She’s your best friend. Are you seriously getting jealous over this?]

[She’s all by herself tonight. The more, the merrier.]

A crowd of three wasn't something I wanted to celebrate anymore.

When they arrived, Ethan was carrying a cake box.

Mia had her arm linked through his, holding a gift bag in her other hand.

"Chloe!" Mia let go of Ethan and ran toward me. "Guess what Ethan got you!"

The excitement on her face made it look like it was her anniversary.

Ethan set the cake on the table and said to Mia, "Don’t spoil it yet."

Mia stuck out her tongue playfully. "I won’t."

They bounced off each other effortlessly. I sat there like an outsider in the audience.

When ordering, Ethan flipped through the menu and said to Mia, "Your stomach has been acting up lately. Let’s get something light."

In the end, every single dish ordered was mild and bland.

He completely forgot that I couldn't eat a meal without hot chili.

Once the food arrived, Mia finally chimed in, "Nothing spicy at all? Chloe is going to be upset."

Ethan glanced at me with a light chuckle.

"Chloe is mature. She won't mind. Besides, she’s watching her weight lately, so eating clean is good for her."

My fork hovered mid-air.

I had no idea when my hundred-pound frame suddenly needed to lose weight.

Mia, on the other hand, had just posted on Twitter days ago about starting a diet.

Mia picked up a glazed rib with her fork and dropped it onto Ethan’s plate. "Try this. It’s their specialty."

Ethan ate it without hesitation.

I sat across from them, watching.

I remembered how Ethan used to cut up food and feed me when we first started dating.

When did that change?

Probably the year Mia started working at his company.

When Mia moved to this city, she struggled to find a job.

I was her only friend here, and Ethan's firm happened to need a receptionist.

I begged Ethan to give her a chance.

After days of wheedling, he finally agreed.

After that, they commuted together, grabbed lunch together, and went on business trips together.

I brought it up once.

Ethan called me petty: "Isn’t Mia your best friend? You’re the one who asked me to hire her. Looking out for your best friend is me showing you respect."

Mia said the same thing: "Chloe, if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll keep my distance."

And she certainly "kept her distance."

She made sure to order him late-night takeout when he worked overtime.

She made sure to bring him medicine when he caught a cold.

She made sure to tidy up his apartment when I was away on business trips.

And she made sure I didn't find out until much later.

Whenever I discovered these things, she would casually brush it off:

"It was no big deal, I didn't even think about it."

"I’m at the office keeping an eye on your man for you. Relax, I won't let anyone hit on him!"

Every single thing seemed like just a friend helping out.

Yet stacked together, they filled every crack between Ethan and me like wet sand, suffocating us.

When the cake box was opened, I froze.

A mango crepe cake.

I’ve been severely allergic to mangoes since childhood. Mia knew it. Ethan knew it.

Ethan explained, "This mango crepe is their signature dessert. Plus, Mia loves it."

"Chloe, you don’t mind, right? More for me, then!" Mia beamed.

The corners of my lips twitched, but I didn't say a word. I pulled out my phone and messaged HR.

[Is the overseas relocation project finalized? I’ve changed my mind. I’ll take it.]

My phone buzzed.

HR replied immediately: [Chloe, are you sure? That’s a three-year assignment. You’ll be promoted when you return, but didn't you mention you were getting married later this year? Are you absolutely certain?]

I stared at the screen for a long time.

Looking up, I saw Ethan handing Mia a napkin.

Mia had picked up a piece of meat with her own fork and was feeding it to Ethan, asking him, "Isn't it amazing?!"

[No wedding. I'm going.]

I sent the text, stood up, and walked out.