In my fifth year of dating Ryan Cole, I brought up marriage three times. The first time, he said, “Lily fell at home. I need to take her to the hospital to get checked out. We’ll talk when I’m back.” The second time, he said, “That limited-edition figure Lily wants goes on sale in-store today. I have to go line up. Don’t rush me.” The third time, I asked him point-blank: “Ryan, do you actually want to get married, or do you want to break up?” He stared at me for a long time without speaking. Finally, he said, “Emma, stop. We’ll get married, just not right now. I promised Lily I wouldn’t get married until she finds a boyfriend.” I had my answer. I didn’t push it. I picked up my phone and called the jeweler I’d already been in contact with. “That custom men’s wedding band I ordered—cancel it.” “I don’t need it anymore.” Ryan didn’t know I’d given him three chances to choose me. After the third, I was done waiting. Once I confirmed the cancellation with the jeweler, I called a secondhand furniture and appliance buyer. They came quickly. The man followed where I pointed, saw the TV, the refrigerator, and the couch in the living room, and froze. “Miss, are you sure you want to sell all of this? The TV, the fridge, the couch—they’re practically brand new. Shouldn’t you talk to your boyfriend first?” I shook my head. “No need. Give me a price. Whatever you can haul out today, take it.” He didn’t ask again after that. He quoted me a number. Once we agreed, his face broke into a grin. “These are big pieces—I might not get them all in one trip. Mind if I come back a few times?” “That’s fine.” Ryan came home from work just as the buyer was directing his guys to carry the TV out the door. He stood in the entryway, his brow creasing instantly. “What’s going on? Where are they taking the TV?” “I sold it.” I didn’t hide it. “You sold it?” Ryan let out a disbelieving laugh, his eyes full of shock. “You sold the TV—what’s Lily supposed to watch when she comes over? You know she loves binge-watching her shows…” He trailed off, as if something occurred to him, and the tight crease in his brow softened. “Fine. The old one was too small anyway—bad for the eyes after a while. You sold it, I’ll just buy a bigger one.” When I’d first suggested buying a TV, he’d been completely against it. “We’re both busy with work. Who has time to watch TV? It’d just sit there collecting dust.” He’d forgotten—I was the one with no sense of security. On the nights he worked late and I was alone in this cold, silent apartment without a single sound, I was afraid. So I’d bought the TV despite his objections. I thought that when I was scared of being alone, it could keep me company in Ryan’s place. What I hadn’t expected was that, once the TV was there, the person who watched it most wasn’t me. It was his childhood friend, Lily Evans. I said nothing. Ryan pulled out his phone and started browsing for a new TV. After placing the order, he didn’t forget to look up and remind me: “Stop fighting Lily for the remote from now on. She’s still like a kid. Be the bigger person and let her have it.” Five years together, and I’d heard this line more times than I could count. Whenever Lily was around, nothing in this home belonged to me anymore. I had to give way to her in everything. In the past, every time I heard something like that, I’d blow up at Ryan. But this time, I just nodded calmly. “Got it. I’ll never fight her for it again.” Not just the remote. I wouldn’t fight her for him either. Ryan heard my promise, and something like relief flickered in his eyes. He sighed. “Emma, if only you’d been this reasonable all along.”
Before, the mere mention of Lily’s name from Ryan’s lips was enough to make me lose control. Like last year, when he took the birthday gift he’d bought for me and gave it to Lily instead. I’d broken down on the spot, pointing at him and screaming: “All you see is Lily! If you love her so much, why don’t you just make her your girlfriend?” That day, the look he gave me was ice-cold. In his eyes, I’d become some irrational, unhinged woman. He said with open disgust: “Emma Miller, I have always seen Lily as a sister. Stop talking nonsense.” After that, whenever I made a scene, all he’d say was: “People with dirty minds see dirt in everything.” But he didn’t understand. I made scenes because I cared about him. Now that I’d stopped—it wasn’t because I’d gotten “reasonable.” It was because I’d stopped loving him. “Oh, right.” Ryan seemed to remember something. “Lily’s going to her high school reunion tonight. Her old classmates always gang up on her, and she can’t handle them alone. I need to go with her. Don’t wait up for dinner.” He didn’t wait for my response. He walked straight to the bedroom to shower and change. The buyer texted me around the same time. “Miss Emma, I’ve transferred you the money for the TV. Each time I pick something up, I’ll send you a payment. Does that work?” I replied: “That works.” By the time Ryan emerged dressed and ready, I was packing the throw pillows, blankets, and little stuffed animals from the couch into a large bag. I said to him, “These are all Lily’s things. Do you want them in your room, or should you bring them back to her?” All of it—every last piece—Ryan had bought for her. Once, while watching TV, Lily had offhandedly complained that the couch looked too bare and boring. The very next day, Ryan bought her favorite throw pillows, a soft blanket, and plush toys. He’d even arranged a spot on the couch that was exclusively hers. If I accidentally sat there, he’d frown. “The couch is huge—can’t you sit somewhere else? Lily’s a little OCD. She can’t stand her stuff being messed up.” Then he’d make me move and carefully refold the blanket, repositioning each toy exactly where it had been. Now, he looked at the bag in my hands, and his expression went cold. “Emma, what are you doing now? Those things were perfectly fine on the couch. Why do you always have to stir up trouble?” His voice was low, barely containing his anger. I said, “I sold the couch. Someone’s coming to pick it up tomorrow. Do whatever you want with this stuff.” I set the bag by his bedroom door. I didn’t want to argue. I was about to go change and head out for dinner when I heard Ryan’s scornful laugh behind me. “When you bought that couch, I told you it wasn’t right. So you’ve finally come around to selling it and getting a new one?” “Don’t bother buying another one—I’ll pick it out. Lily has a bad back. A stiff leather couch isn’t good for her. I’ll find something she can lie on without getting sore.” When I’d chosen that firm leather couch, it was because Ryan had said that style put less strain on the spine. Every word he’d ever said to me—I’d held on to all of it. But he’d apparently never held on to a single word of mine. I pressed my lips together and said softly, “Do whatever you want.” It wouldn’t matter much longer. I’d be gone soon. Whatever he bought had nothing to do with me. Shortly after Ryan left, I changed and went out too. I found a restaurant with great reviews. But the moment I walked in and followed the hostess to my table, I heard a burst of teasing laughter from the other side of the partition.
“Lily, you’re something else—you actually landed the school heartthrob! How long have you two been together?” “Right? When’s the wedding? Don’t forget to invite us old classmates for a drink.” “I always knew you two would end up together. Back in school, Ryan was cold to everyone except Lily. When he looked at her, his eyes literally lit up.” The two familiar names made me pause mid-sit. I glanced over instinctively. Ryan and Lily had their backs to me. I couldn’t see their expressions, but I could clearly see Ryan deftly picking bones out of a piece of fish and placing the clean flesh into Lily’s bowl. A chorus of envious gasps erupted around them. “Oh my God, Lily, Ryan is so good to you. I’m so jealous. If my husband were half that thoughtful, I’d be thrilled.” “Seriously. If mine were that attentive, we wouldn’t fight every other day.” Lily was basking in the compliments, barely concealing the smugness in her eyes, deliberately suppressing a smile. “It’s not that big a deal. Ryan just understands me, that’s all.” Yeah. Ryan understood her perfectly. One look from her, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. She wanted to catch a midnight movie—even if he could barely keep his eyes open, he’d change and drive her to the theater. She wanted to go hiking—even though he was terrified of heights, he’d go along with her whims. And me? When I had a fever so bad it turned into pneumonia, and I begged him to take me to the hospital— He said: “Lily’s dog ran away. She’s at home crying her eyes out. I need to go help her look.” “You just have a fever. It’s not going to kill you. Go to the hospital yourself.” Thinking about that, I suddenly recalled what my mom had said to me at the beginning of the year. She said: “The day after your dad and I started dating, he was already itching to go to your grandma’s house and ask for my hand.” “You’ve been with Ryan five years. Has he ever once brought up marriage on his own?” “Emma, if you keep dragging this out, what are you going to do when you’re older and he throws you away?” Even after hearing that, I was still naive. I gave Ryan three chances to choose me. If he’d shown even a flicker of wanting to marry me, I would have kept waiting. That’s why I’d contacted the jeweler ahead of time and ordered a custom ring. But reality slapped me across the face. That day, he told me that as long as Lily didn’t have a boyfriend, he wouldn’t get married. I asked him: “What if she never finds another man she likes? What if it’s her whole life?” He was silent for a long moment, then said: “Marriage is just a piece of paper. As long as our relationship is stable, it doesn’t matter whether we have it or not.” I understood perfectly. What he meant was: as long as Lily was single, he would never marry me. In that moment, I finally saw the full picture. Five years of loving him—what an absolute joke. “Oh! Emma, what are you doing here?” A familiar yelp of surprise. I looked up and found Lily standing in the aisle—I had no idea when she’d gotten there. Ryan heard the voice and turned to look at me too. His gaze was complicated, his jaw subtly tight. Like he was afraid I’d say something I shouldn’t. “Ryan, Lily—you guys know this beauty?” someone asked with a laugh. Hearing that, I was suddenly curious. How would he answer? Ryan slowly looked away. His voice was cold and flat. “No. I don’t know her.” Those words landed on my heart like a sledgehammer. Crushing the last shred of hope I had left. I actually laughed. Then I turned to Lily and said, “That’s right. I don’t know you. You’ve got the wrong person.”
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