Chapter 3

3: 3

3

I watched the phone drop, watched it sink all the way under the water in the fish tank.

I lunged to fish it out, and when I pulled it free,

it was dripping wet, water still running off it.

But at my ear came Kathryn's voice, thrilled and giddy.

"Joseph, you're the best!"

"I only mentioned once that I wanted this phone, and you actually bought it?"

"This thing costs a fortune!"

I lifted my head, my eyes red-rimmed.

And saw Joseph looking at Kathryn with something almost like tenderness.

"As long as you like it."

Kathryn was still lost in her own delight, chattering on.

"I always said Isabelle had good taste, going for a real man like you. Honestly, I'm a little jealous of my girl here."

"When I go looking for someone, I'm going to look for a man just like you…"

Joseph, meanwhile, noticed a strand of her hair had caught in the cake.

He picked up a napkin and cleaned it off, one strand at a time.

I watched it all, something bitter rising in me.

Kathryn's last phone was still practically new, and now she'd gotten another one.

The one in my hand I'd used for three whole years,

bumped and cracked and dropped more times than I could count, and I'd never brought myself to replace it.

All because Joseph said he didn't like girls who were wasteful.

So I'd just made do, this whole time.

Only now did I understand: it wasn't that he disliked wasteful girls.

He just disliked me being wasteful.

I wiped it down with a dry towel again and again, tried everything, and the phone still gave me nothing.

There was nothing to do but turn to Joseph. "My phone won't turn on."

He was several rounds deep in drinks with Kathryn, and shot me an irritated look.

"Once the party's over, I'll take you home."

So I sat down beside them and waited, obedient, and when I got sleepy I stepped outside for some air.

It was nearly dawn before Joseph came out, half carrying a drunk, whining Kathryn.

"Careful."

I moved to help, but Joseph swept her up in his arms and set her in the passenger seat.

"I'll drop Kathryn off first. You get your own ride."

I stayed quiet a moment, then spoke. "Can I borrow your phone to book a ride?"

Joseph fixed me with a wary stare.

"You're not thinking of using the chance to go through my phone, are you?"

"Isabelle, can you not be so petty? I've told you, even in a relationship, we still have to respect each other's privacy…"

I pressed my lips together and held up the soaked phone.

"Did you not see just now?"

"Kathryn threw my phone into the fish tank. It won't turn on."

Joseph's brows knotted tighter.

"You can go ask a server for a hair dryer and blow it dry."

In the end it was Kathryn who lent me her phone.

I booked the ride and noted the plate number.

I was about to close the ride app when the wallpaper caught my eye.

It was Joseph, shirtless, a photo of his abs.

I froze.

Before it could even register, Kathryn snatched the phone back.

"Isabelle, weren't we agreed I'd just lend it to you for the ride? Why are you going through someone's phone?"

The Kathryn who'd been drunk a second ago was staring at me now, sharp and wary.

I looked at her, my face blank.

"Kathryn, don't you think you owe me an explanation?"

"An explanation for what?"

She said it like she had every right.

"For why the wallpaper on your phone is a photo of my boyfriend."

She flared right up at me.

"Isabelle, I treat you like a real best friend, and this is how you suspect me?"

"If you really think there's something between me and your boyfriend, then think whatever you want."

"But let me give you a word of advice. If there really were something between me and your boyfriend, do you think you'd ever have gotten the chance to date him?"

Kathryn leaned in close to leave me with that, and it made every hair on my body stand up.

She'd never had any intention of dating Joseph.

That didn't mean she had no intention of playing with him.

After all, back in college she'd loved having two men on the line at once, and she used to tell me about it.

"Isabelle, you're just too honest, a total good girl."

"You have no idea how good it feels to have a man wrapped around your finger like that."

Watching her climb into the passenger seat that should have been mine, I spoke, cold.

"So right now you're keeping Joseph wrapped around your finger, aren't you?"

Kathryn turned to look at me and gave a sly, wicked smile.

"Isabelle, I'd have thought you'd have gotten a little smarter over the years."

"As long as it's never said out loud, we're still best friends, and we can still have a good time together."

"Once it's said out loud, it stops being any fun. Don't you think?"

She let out a cold laugh and rolled up the window.

In that moment, cold ran through me head to toe, and I was almost certain of it:

Kathryn had been doing it on purpose all along.

Six months ago, my mother, seeing Joseph and me six years into a relationship, kept pushing us to get the marriage license first.

Better not to leave room for things to go wrong.

The day Joseph and I were supposed to go get the license,

Kathryn suddenly messaged: "My stomach hurts so bad, I can't get a ride to the hospital. Is there any kind soul who can take me?"

And he dropped me and left.

Later, furious, I demanded an explanation from Joseph:

"We waited five hours in line at the county clerk's office, we were almost up next, and you dropped me and walked out. Don't you owe me some kind of explanation?"

Joseph was the one who lost his patience first.

"The license, the license, is that all you've got in your head?"

"Isabelle, your best friend's stomach was hurting bad enough to land her in the hospital. Do you have any empathy at all?"

After that, whenever I brought up the license, his answer changed.

"Kathryn said the best order is to have the wedding first and then get the license. She's worried I'll take advantage of you."

"You should thank your lucky stars you have a friend that good."

Kathryn was despicable and hateful, no question.

But the one I hated more was Joseph.

If he hadn't been a willing fish on the line, Kathryn never could have pulled it off.

The day we were supposed to get the license, he was the one who stood me up.

That gown worth millions, the "Dream Princess," was one he'd handed me himself.

There's no whitewashing it.

And I won't be forgiving him either.