Four years of working at the same Boston firm with my best friend and my girlfriend. Everyone at the office called us the “Three Musketeers,” but there was always a cruel, unspoken edge to the joke. It was less of a tight-knit trio and more of a crowd—and I was always the one standing on the outside looking in. During an after-work happy hour, some of the junior associates got loud and insisted we play a round of Never Have I Ever. Chase was the first to speak, leaning back in his chair with a smug, easy grin. “I’ve never not been Camille’s go-to partner on our biggest cases.” I smiled, keeping my voice steady as I took a sip of my beer. “I’m the boyfriend she actually shares an apartment with.” Chase didn’t even blink. “She drives me to and from the office every single day.” The smile on my face froze. I slowly folded down my first finger. For four years, Camille had told me our schedules didn’t align. She’d look at me with soft pity and tell me to take the T, leaving me to squeeze onto the packed morning subway trains while she drove. Ignoring my pale face, Chase pushed further. “She spends eight hours a day talking strategy with me.” “She pulls all-nighters with me in the office at least three times a week.” “The red silk lingerie she’s wearing under her suit today was a gift from me.” The room erupted into roaring laughter. But as the echoes of their amusement died down, a heavy, suffocating silence took over. By then, I only had one finger left upright. Chase leaned in close, a sharp, knowing smile on his lips. “On Thanksgiving, she blew off your parents’ dinner to have Thanksgiving with mine.” My breath caught in my throat. My chest went entirely numb. I slowly turned my head to look at Camille. She sat there, nursing her drink, entirely unbothered. No wonder she hadn’t answered my calls. No wonder she’d shut off her phone for twenty-four hours—an absolute sin in our line of work. She hadn’t been in an emergency. She had been playing the doting partner to Chase’s parents. My last finger folded down. My hand formed a tight, hollow fist. Without saying a word, I stood up, walked past Camille, and left. … Two hours. I walked the cold, damp streets of Boston for two hours, and my phone didn’t buzz once. No texts. No missed calls. It was as if my absence made no difference at all. After downing an iced Americano in three bitter gulps, I returned to the office to pack up some things. Katie, one of the paralegals, nudged my arm in the hallway, offering a tight, sympathetic look. “Back so soon? Where are the other two?” Everyone at Vanguard Law knew Camille and Chase were the golden duo. They had been the stars of Harvard Law, a perfectly matched set of ambition and brilliant legal minds. To the rest of the office, they were the real couple; I was just the background noise. I couldn’t count how many times people had looked at me with pity. Even when we took a rare day off, colleagues would corner me. “Jesse, don’t you think three’s a crowd? When are you going to bow out?” Back then, I’d just smile like an idiot and say, “We’re going to the movies today. There are plenty of seats. No one’s crowding anyone.” But the moment we stepped into the theater, Chase had muttered something about wanting to go shopping instead. Without a second thought, Camille threw our three tickets straight into the trash can. I can still feel the physical sting of the paper tickets scraping against the back of my hand as she tossed them away. When we bumped into our colleagues at the mall, Chase insisted everyone go out for drinks. Camille didn’t hesitate. She immediately booked a luxury private lounge nearby. Three months of grueling overtime, all for a single day off together, gone in an instant. And through it all, not a single person asked me what I wanted. Before every date, I would practically beg her. Please, let’s just stick to the plan. Let’s not spend dinner talking about your cases. Camille would ruffle my hair, and Chase would playfully stick his tongue out. “Aye, aye, captain!” they’d say. But it always ended the same way. Chase wanted ramen, Chase wanted boba, Chase wanted to try an escape room. The itineraries I spent hours planning, the reservations I made weeks in advance—all of it ended up in the garbage. “I’m so sorry, Jesse,” Chase would say with a sigh. “This new acquisition is killing me. The pressure is insane…” And Camille would immediately take the bait, asking for details. They’d dive into their legal jargon, bouncing ideas off each other, speaking a language I couldn’t understand. I sat there, unable to utter a word, counting the clouds outside the window or watching the condensation drip down my glass. Then I’d sit in the backseat while Camille drove him home. When we finally got back to our apartment and I tried to talk to her, she’d rub her temples and sigh, “Jesse, I’m exhausted. Let’s talk later, okay?” The words would die in my throat, choking me. We had been together for eight years. My parents had been begging to meet her. But she was always “too busy.” To make it easy for her, my parents had booked flights with two layovers just to fly into Boston. She had requested the day off. She chose the restaurant. But when the day arrived, she went completely off the grid. No calls, no texts. The next morning, she casually told me she had been in a minor fender bender and was too shaken up to reply. But now I knew the truth. There was no accident. There was no panic. She was just at a cozy dinner with Chase’s family. My chest throbbed with a dull, heavy ache. I looked at Katie and managed a tight, fragile smile. “You guys were right. Three is a crowd. I’m done being the third wheel.” I had always been the dead weight in Camille’s life. Back in college, when I struggled with my classes, she was the one who tutored me. Back then, she would laugh softly and say, “Jesse is a little slow, but that’s why he has me to look after him.” She didn’t use to look at me with disgust and say, “You’re a grown man, Jesse. Can you stop throwing tantrums and vanishing? It’s pathetic.” She walked past me toward her office, the glass door swinging shut behind her. Chase stood nearby, a smug, self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t take it personally,” he said, patting my shoulder with mock sympathy. “She’s got a lot of cases on her plate right now. The stress is just getting to her.” I gently pulled my shoulder away. My voice was barely a whisper. “She’s right. I’m fine now.” That afternoon, I handed in my resignation. The HR director slid his glasses down his nose, looking at me in shock. “Jesse, are you sure about this? You worked yourself to the bone to get a foot in the door here with your background. You’re just going to throw that away?” I offered a dry, hollow laugh. Getting into this firm had been the biggest fluke of my life. I wasn’t a lawyer. I was just a legal assistant who struggled to keep up with the terminology and the fast-paced environment. I had only stayed because of Camille. But I was tired. Some things just couldn’t be forced, whether it was a career or a relationship. “I just finally opened my eyes,” I told him. He sighed and patted my shoulder. “Sometimes letting go is the smartest thing you can do.” I went back to my desk to wrap up my remaining files before my final two weeks. Chase strolled over, holding a thick blue folder. He wore a look of exaggerated concern. “Jesse, I know you’re going through a rough patch, but you messed up this filing again…” Again? I stood up, snatching the folder from his hands. I flipped through the pages and shook my head. “You’re mistaken. I didn’t draft this.” Chase’s eyes immediately welled with tears. He lowered his voice, sounding wounded. “Are you mad at me, Jesse? Look, if I did something to upset you, I’m sorry. But this is a law firm. Lives are on the line. You can’t just be careless because of a personal grudge.” Before I could even open my mouth, Camille’s cold voice cut through the air. “Jesse, apologize.” I looked up, staring into her eyes. “Camille… you didn’t even look at the file.” “I don’t need to,” she said flatly, her voice cutting like glass. “With your track record, of course it’s your mistake.” She made her judgment without even glancing at the document. She didn’t know what the issue was, nor did she care. She just instinctively sided with Chase. I looked at her, then at Chase standing close beside her. The last thread holding my dignity together snapped. Whispers and chuckles rippled through the bullpen. “Honestly, I sometimes forget which one is actually her boyfriend,” someone whispered. “Tell me about it. They’ve always been like this.” Camille glared at the gossiping coworkers. Then she reached out and laced her fingers through mine, her tone softening slightly. “Just apologize, Jesse. Don’t make a scene and embarrass Chase. I’ll make your favorite dinner tonight, okay?” I stared down at our joined hands. Her palm was warm, a warmth that used to be my safe haven. We had held hands like this a thousand times. She had once stood up to professors for me, fought for my grade makeups, and asked me to be her boyfriend while I carried her on my back under the autumn leaves. Now, she was using that same touch to force me to take the blame for something I hadn’t done, just to save Chase’s face. For the first time in eight years, I pulled my hand away. I looked at Chase, bowed his head slightly, and said, “I’m sorry.” “Jesse, you don’t have to do that…” Chase murmured, looking guilty. If he actually cared, he wouldn’t have waited until now to play the bigger man. “Stop babying him, Chase,” Camille snapped. “He needs to learn to take responsibility.” They started bickering back and forth, their voices washing over me. I stood there between them like a ghost. An outsider. The bitter coffee I’d chugged earlier began to churn in my stomach, sending sharp, agonizing cramps through my abdomen. I started to tremble, breaking into a cold sweat, but neither of them noticed how pale I had gone. “See, Camille? I told you. One word from you and Jesse folds every time,” Chase chuckled as they walked away. “You owe me dinner tonight…” Their laughter faded down the corridor, leaving a gaping, bleeding hole in my chest. I was practically doubled over in physical pain, and the two people I loved most in the world had used my humiliation as a wager. Gripping the edge of my desk until my knuckles turned white, I forced the words out through a tight throat. “Camille. We’re done.” But the only response was the heavy slam of the glass door. I sat in our dark apartment until midnight. She never came home. Instead, my phone lit up with messages from colleagues. Jesse, did you know Camille and Chase checked into a hotel room together last night? Are you seriously okay with this? Honestly, they look so much better together. Just save yourself the heartbreak and let her go. I stared at the glowing screen. My mind went completely blank, then shattered into a million sharp pieces. No wonder she hadn’t picked up my calls last night. She was busy. Tears blurred my vision, turning the text messages into a smear of light. I took a ragged breath, rubbed my eyes, and opened Instagram. Chase had just posted a story. It was a picture of two white hotel bathrobes discarded on the floor, overlapping in a tangled heap. He hadn’t added a caption. He didn’t need to. I stared at the photo until my legs gave out. Yes, Chase was brilliant, charming, and sharp. I was none of those things. I was ordinary. But when I saved him from a gang of street thugs back in college, I never imagined he would end up in my girlfriend’s bed. Back then, Chase was fragile, terrified, and so broke he could barely afford his textbooks. I had working-class parents and worked double shifts at a diner all summer just to give him my savings so he wouldn’t drop out. I remembered how he had cried, clutching my jacket, sobbing that no one had ever cared about him before. I had patted his back like a fool. Don’t worry, man. I’ve got your back from now on. I kept my word. When I landed my internship, I made sure he got one too. When Camille and I went out, I always invited him along. When we relocated to Boston, I practically begged Camille to use her influence to get Chase a position at Vanguard. An older attorney at the firm had once warned me over drinks. “Jesse, keeping a third wheel around that close for too long always backfires.” I had laughed it off. “Not them. They’re my family.” But as they climbed the ranks, their stars rising in tandem, I was slowly demoted to the shadow following behind them. I slid down against the wall of the kitchen, staring at the dark floor, unable to pull myself up. The sun was rising when Camille finally unlocked the front door. She gave me a brief, distracted wave before heading straight into the master bedroom to shower and change. Ten minutes later, she emerged, looking every bit the polished, high-powered defense attorney. I forced my stiff legs to stand and blocked her path. “We need to talk.” “Make it quick, Jesse. I have three minutes,” she said, her eyes glued to her phone as her thumbs flew across the screen. A small, soft smile played on her lips. I looked down and saw the text she was sending: Heading out now, Chase. I’ll be downstairs in ten. A hot, suffocating anger flared in my chest, burning my throat until I could barely breathe. “Jesse! I’m going to be late,” she snapped, checking her designer watch with a flash of irritation. She was perfectly willing to spend an hour fighting traffic to drive across town to pick Chase up every morning, but for me, she could only spare a measly three minutes. I couldn’t even remember the last time she had driven me to work, despite us going to the exact same building. It was always, Chase and I need to review a brief on the way. Just take the subway, Jesse. I had been pathetic. I had gone from hurt to confused, and eventually to numb acceptance. But I was done playing the martyr. Taking a deep, stabilizing breath, I looked her in the eye. “Let’s break up, Camille.” Her fingers froze over the keyboard. She slowly raised her head. “What did you say?” “I want to break up.” “Why? Give me one logical reason, Jesse.” She grabbed my wrist, her grip tightening until her manicured nails dug into my skin. I didn’t flinch. I just looked at her hand on my wrist. “You shared a room with him last night. Breaking up just saves you the trouble of hiding it.” A flicker of realization crossed her face, quickly replaced by a sharp flare of defensive anger. “Jesse! Chase is your best friend. How can you be so disgusting? How can you think of us like that?” Disgusting. We had been together for eight years. I had packed up my entire life to follow her to this city, leaving my family behind, and this was what my devotion bought me. “We had a massive breakthrough on the Meridian case,” she said, shoving her phone into her purse. “We had a few drinks to celebrate and got too tired to drive, so we got a room with two double beds. Believe what you want, but nothing happened.” She brushed past me, grabbing her keys and slipping into her heels. At the door, she paused. She turned back, her expression softening into something resembling pity. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. Calm down and think about it today.” I didn’t get to think about it for long. Ten minutes after she left, my phone rang. It was HR, demanding I come into the office immediately. The moment I walked through the doors of Vanguard Law, Katie pulled me into a quiet corner, her face completely pale. “Jesse, everything is blowing up. Someone leaked the trade secrets for the Meridian Group acquisition. It’s our biggest account. The managing partners are livid—they’re threatening lawsuits.” I thanked her and walked straight to the HR director’s office. He looked up, his face lined with pity. “Jesse, the executive board has reason to believe you were the one who leaked the files. You, Camille, and Chase were the only ones with access to the server that day.” It felt like a physical blow to the chest. “I didn’t do it. You can check the security cameras. I was just setting up the room and handing out hard copies. I sat at the far end of the table. I didn’t even understand half of what they were discussing. How could I leak it? Besides, I already handed in my resignation. Why would I ruin my life on the way out?” The director sighed. “Jesse, I want to believe you, but we received a formal whistle-blower report with evidence.” “From who?” I demanded, my hands shaking as I stood up. The director looked down at his desk. “Your friend. Chase.” My hands clenched into fists so tight my nails cut into my palms. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. “But I didn’t do it,” I choked out. “Camille was there the whole time. She can vouch for me. She knows my access logs…” Before I could finish, the director shook his head gently. “Jesse… the second signature on the report belongs to Camille. Your girlfriend.” The world fell silent. I couldn’t hear the rest of what he was saying. The words looped in my mind like a broken record: Camille signed it. Camille signed it. I stumbled back to my desk. The whispers from the bullpen felt like physical blows. “I always thought he was a bit slow, but I didn’t think he was a thief.” “He probably knew he’d never make partner, so he sold the client out for a quick payday.” I didn’t say a word to any of them. I walked straight to Camille’s office and pushed the door open. She was sitting at her mahogany desk, silhouetted against the bright window, her face cast in shadow. Before I could speak, her familiar, polished voice drifted across the room. “Jesse, just sign the severance agreement and take the fall for now. I’ll explain everything later.” I walked toward her, forcing myself not to let the tears fall. “You signed it. You actually signed it. Why, Camille? You know I didn’t touch those files.” Camille stood up, walking around her desk to grab my arm. Her eyes softened with a flicker of guilt, but her words were cold steel. “I know you didn’t do it, Jesse. But if you don’t take the blame, Chase’s career is over.” The sheer absurdity of it hit me like a physical shock. I stared at her, completely paralyzed. “You’re just an assistant, Jesse,” she pleaded, her grip on my arm tightening. “You can transition to a different field, or we can find you something else. But Chase… Chase has worked so hard. If his reputation is ruined over a compliance leak, he’ll be disbarred. His life will be over.” My vision blurred as hot tears finally spilled over. She kept talking, but her face was just a smear of flesh and shadow. “Jesse, you have me to support you,” she whispered, reaching up to wipe a tear from my cheek. “But Chase has nothing. You’re his best friend. You’d do this for him, wouldn’t you?” Her hands were warm against my face, but I felt frozen to the bone. I looked deep into her eyes, seeing my own broken reflection. “And what if I say no?” Camille’s eyes welled with tears, and she shook her head. “It’s too late, Jesse. Chase already fabricated the server log video. The partners have already seen it.” The guillotine fell. She knew. She had known the evidence was forged, and she had chosen to let them destroy me anyway. I closed my eyes and nodded slowly. Suddenly, the door burst open, and Chase threw his arms around me, sobbing. “Jesse, I’m so sorry! I didn’t have a choice… please forgive me…” I pushed him away with every ounce of strength I had left. I looked at Chase, then turned my gaze to Camille. “Get away from me. Both of you make me sick.” I walked out of the office and straight back to the apartment. Within two hours, a moving truck was parked outside our building. Every book, every piece of clothing, every trace of my existence in Chestnut Hill was packed away.
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