My best friend Brooke once lost a tooth defending me. My boyfriend Luke won me over with 200 love letters and a sky full of fireworks. Then, on my 25th birthday, I caught him pressing Brooke against his car, kissing her until her lips were swollen. “What about Lena?” Brooke asked, her voice trembling. “I don’t want to hurt her,” Luke groaned, “But I can’t stop wanting you. Tell me what to do.” Then the car began to rock. I tucked my cancer diagnosis deeper into my pocket and smiled bitterly. Easy enough. That night, I booked my assisted suicide. Snowflakes lashed against my face, sharp and biting. It was the first heavy snowfall of the year. I stood behind a wall, watching them kiss in the secluded corner. The hand Luke had wrapped around Brooke’s neck still bore the couple’s watch he shared with me. And Brooke was nestled in the very scarf I had knitted for her with my own hands. After a moment of passionate kissing, they climbed into the car. I saw the vehicle begin to rock, moans faintly carrying through the frozen air. My hands and feet had gone numb with cold after waiting half an hour in the relentless snow. Only when they opened the car door and stepped out did I pretend to have just arrived, raising a hand in greeting. “You both got here so early?” “You’re the guest of honor today! How could you be late?” Brooke unwound her scarf, the one I’d knitted, and wrapped it around my neck. Her eyes were full of concern. “You’re freezing. Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?” That’s when I noticed my eyelashes were completely frosted over. I remembered how Luke used to bundle me in his coat when it snowed, terrified I’d catch a chill. But now, he only hesitated for a second before finally reaching out to gently brush the snow from my shoulder. The moment his hand brushed my shoulder, Brooke’s expression tightened. She quietly averted her gaze. Luke immediately stepped back, putting a respectful distance between us. I shook my head, pretending not to notice, and forced a cheerful grin. “Oh, come on, I’m not that delicate. Let’s get this party started!” After all, this was my last birthday. Brooke exclaimed. “Guess what I got you!” Luke snorted playfully. “My gift is definitely better!” They fell into their familiar bickering, the easy back-and-forth lightening the mood. When Luke and I first started dating, Brooke couldn’t stand him. Now, it sounded like playful banter. I wanted to pretend I couldn’t see, that if I didn’t turn my head, I wouldn’t cry. But the streetlights cruelly stretched their shadows long. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Luke secretly reach for Brooke’s hand. Their fingers intertwined tightly. A perfect match.
“Come on, get inside, it’s cold out here.” I quickly opened the door for them. “Don’t rush us, we’re coming!” Brooke laughed, quickening her pace in high heels to catch up. As she entered, she stumbled slightly. The cake she was carrying crashed to the floor. I rushed forward to help steady her. “Watch out!” Luke beat me to it, grabbing her waist to steady her. He anxiously crouched down to check her ankle. “How is it? Can you still walk?” My outstretched hand hung in mid-air, and Brooke’s smile froze on her face. The air fell into an awkward silence. Luke’s movements faltered as his eyes met mine. “Lena, don’t be mad. Brooke’s always been clumsy, she didn’t mean to drop the cake. I’ll go buy another one right away.” I watched him protect Brooke. Just like Brooke had always protected me, standing in front of me since we were kids. Brooke and I grew up together in an orphanage. She was hot-headed, and I was timid; she always protected me. Now, I just awkwardly shoved my hand back into my pocket, fingers caressing that terminal illness notice, and looked away, smiling. “I’m not a three-year-old, there’s nothing to be mad about. It’s just a cake.” “Luke, can you clean that up? I’ll go check the medicine cabinet for band-aids.” Luke lowered his head apologetically. “I’ll order a new cake right now.” I waved my hand dismissively, helped Brooke sit on the sofa, and found some ointment to gently apply. Brooke said, “Lena, you’re too kind.” I smiled and said, “You are too, Brooke.” Brooke lowered her head and stayed silent. After I put a band-aid on her, Luke had already finished cleaning up and called us over to eat the newly ordered cake. Luke lit the candles. In the flickering candlelight, I saw a photo displayed on the corner of the table. Luke and I, in our high school uniforms, holding hands tightly. Brooke, in a red spaghetti-strap dress, hugged my other arm, glaring resentfully at him. Back then, they couldn’t stand each other. Brooke would fiercely tell Luke, “Hey! You’re her first boyfriend. If you ever hurt her, you’re dead!” Luke would retort, “No way! I think *you’re* the one who looks like you’d hurt Lena!” At that time, Brooke’s eyes dimmed. I quickly told Luke to stop. When I was fifteen, the orphanage closed down. Brooke dropped out of school and worked to put me through high school. She dressed in sexy clothes, became an influencer, and each time I tried to help her shoulder the burden, she’d send me back to school with a lecture. “Lena, you’re smart, and you’re still young. You have to study hard and go to college! I don’t have that chance anymore, you need to cherish this opportunity to learn, understand?” But she was only three years older than me. Memories flooded my mind. I closed my eyes and made a sincere wish. I wished for my best friend and the boy I loved most to be happy forever. Even long after I was gone. After I made my wish, Brooke eagerly volunteered to cut the cake, then mischievously dabbed frosting on my nose. “Happy birthday, Lena, another year older.” I forced a smile, but then I saw Luke’s burning gaze fixed on her. It was tender and lingering. The bitterness in my heart flared up again. Brooke, completely oblivious, casually pulled out a small gift box. “See? Do you like it?” Luke finally snapped back to reality, playfully elbowed her aside, and, holding something mysterious in his palm, leaned in. “Guess what I got you?” “You little brat, stop trying to steal my thunder, don’t you dare compete with me!” Brooke puffed out her cheeks, exasperated. “You two rivals, stop bickering and just leave me alone.” Neither of them would back down, so I helplessly rubbed my forehead, forced to open both their gifts at once. The moment I opened them, we all froze.
They both picked rings from the same series. The styles were incredibly similar. Luke’s had a mountain pattern, while Brooke’s had waves. They weren’t just similar; they fit perfectly together, like a pair. Brooke looked a little lost, but I laughed, snatched the two rings, and quickly slid one onto each of my hands. “No wonder we’re such good friends, we’re so in sync! I was debating which design to get, but now I don’t have to.” I pulled out my phone and snapped a dozen photos. But everyone just grew more awkward. Brooke forced a smile. “He definitely copied me. But since you like it, I won’t bother arguing.” My heart ached faintly. Then, I forced myself to be cheerful and suggested we drink to celebrate. But Brooke, who usually had the best alcohol tolerance, was the first to get completely wasted, sprawling like a rag doll. She kept mumbling, “Lena… we’ll always be best friends…” Luke stood up, expertly picked up her jacket, and helped her stand, saying, “Lena, I’m taking Brooke home first. If you’re tired, just go to sleep, don’t wait up for me.” I quietly nodded. From the balcony, I watched them lean on each other as they disappeared into the distance. I took a deep breath, then scooped a spoonful of cake for myself. The cream tasted sickly sweet and bitter. I reluctantly put down my fork and went back to my bedroom, planning to sort through my belongings. But by chance, I discovered the love letters Luke had written to me when he was eighteen. Two hundred letters, their pages filled with his tight, meticulous script. “Lena, I noticed you long before you ever noticed me. You never looked up. I was always so curious-what did you think about when you were so quiet?” “Silly girl, I didn’t save you. You were the one who gave me a chance to prove my love.” “Lena, we’re going to grow old together.” As I read, my nose grew slightly sore, and the corners of my mouth unconsciously turned up, but then I abruptly stopped as I turned a page. The back of the love letters had new writing. “Strange, before I always thought of Brooke as my rival, and only gave her a friendly face for Lena’s sake. But now I realize, she seems really special.” “I ran into Brooke today. It’s the middle of winter, and her face was bright red from the cold. I felt a little pang of sympathy.” “No, I have to control my feelings.” “My hand accidentally met Brooke’s during our walk. She jumped back like she’d been shocked, her face turning red. Does she feel it too?” “Lena was surprisingly clingy today, but Brooke was clearly disappointed. I don’t want to run from my feelings anymore. I need to be clear with her.” Fragmented handwriting. It formed a reverse love letter. Though the handwriting was new, the feelings were just as genuine and passionate. I saw that it seemed to have started about a year ago, and the entries on the back were even starting to exceed those on the front. His heart, it turned out, had shifted long ago. The most recent date was just yesterday: “I’m sorry, Lena.” “But it’s time to end things. I’ve already failed you; I can’t fail Brooke too.” A torrent of tears finally burst forth. I struggled to breathe, coughing heavily twice, and hot blood splattered onto my palm. I fumbled for a tissue. Luke chose that moment to return. He habitually pulled open the door and peeked in. “Lena, are you asleep?”
I stumbled, rushing to block the door tightly. “I feel a little dizzy, I’ve already lain down.” My shirt was still stained with blood. The love letters on the floor were scattered. Luke knocked on the door twice more, asking if I needed medicine, but I brushed him off with an excuse. I couldn’t face him. I didn’t know if he was more worried about me being sick, or if he hoped to break up with me soon so he could openly pursue the girl he loved. After a long time, silence finally fell outside. Luke was probably asleep. I put the room back in order, packed a few small bags, and checked myself into the city hospital alone. The doctor frowned, trying to persuade me. “Are you really not planning on chemotherapy? Even though it’s stage four lung cancer, aggressive treatment could still buy you some more time.” “You’re still… very young.” I smiled and shook my head. “No, I’ll only be staying a few days.” Originally, I planned to leave all my savings. Enough for Brooke to get a proper streaming studio, and some seed money for Luke’s startup. With the rest of the money, I booked my assisted suicide procedure abroad. Seven more days, and I’d be free. Ultimately, I was still a coward. The next day, Luke called. I picked a random excuse and hung up. For seven days straight, he called countless times. Each time, I found various reasons to refuse, until eventually, I couldn’t even bear to hear his voice. I still remembered the burning love in that eighteen-year-old boy beneath the fireworks. So I couldn’t accept his change of heart. I wanted to beg him not to be so cruel. Just a few more days, and I wouldn’t bother them anymore. It felt like as long as he didn’t break up with me, I would die still believing I was loved. But the night before my assisted suicide, as I was counting my documents, Luke’s anxious call came through, his voice a panicked shout. “Lena! Brooke’s live stream just cut out, and her phone’s going straight to voicemail. Something’s wrong. I’m on my way, but the meetup spot is too far. I might not get there in time. You have to go check on her, now!” My eyes widened. I didn’t have time to question why he was so worried about Brooke’s live stream. I quickly said, “Don’t worry! I’m on my way!” I ripped out my IV, forgot to grab a jacket, and got into the car, speeding through the night towards the place Brooke usually streamed from. I couldn’t remember how many red lights I ran. But when I finally arrived. Brooke’s clothes were torn to shreds, and a unconscious thug lay nearby. Luke had already arrived, clearly having fought someone; his face was bruised and swollen. He was holding the trembling Brooke, comforting her over and over again. My knees buckled, and I stumbled over, trembling, trying to reach for her hand. “I’m too late, I’m so sorry.” “Get lost! Why are you still pretending to care!” Luke’s eyes were bloodshot. He fiercely slapped my hand away, in a protective stance. “You were so close, why didn’t you rush over to save her? If you had gotten here sooner, Brooke wouldn’t have…” “You’ve always enjoyed her sacrifices, why couldn’t you sacrifice for her just once? How could you be so selfish?!” “Enough!” Brooke’s voice was hoarse, and she forced a smile at me. “That animal didn’t actually violate me, I’m fine.” My throat tightened, and my nose felt terribly blocked. But he was still frantic. “Brooke! Stop pushing me away!” Hearing this, Brooke’s body trembled, and she lowered her head. She finally accepted the jacket Luke draped over her. Luke took a deep breath, then continued to scold me: “How can you say something like this is fine? This is a lifelong trauma! Lena, what have you been doing these past few days?” I didn’t know how to answer him. I stared at the bruised needle marks on the back of my hand. I was only wearing a thin undershirt, and I couldn’t help but shiver from the cold. Guilt mingled with a deep sense of injustice. Besides “I’m sorry,” no other words would come. “Lena, you wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for Brooke. Now that she’s in trouble, this is how you repay her? You’re utterly lazy. You’ve disappointed me beyond words.” Luke held her close, his expression icy as he turned to me, his gaze like that of a stranger facing an enemy. “We need some time apart. You need to think carefully about everything that’s happened recently.” I gasped in shock, wanting to explain, but then I violently vomited a pool of blood. The snow immediately stained a stark red. Before I could even cover it, I saw Luke. He was already helping Brooke into the passenger seat. He pressed the gas pedal, and he never looked back. I lowered my gaze to the blood on the ground. I was such a mess, always ruining everything. I wiped my mouth bitterly and went to the airport alone. I remembered the wish I made on my fifteenth birthday: “I wish my best friend would always be by my side, and the person I love most would always be across from me, forever and ever.” What a pity. It never came true. I sent one last text: “I wish you both a happy life together.” Then, I turned off my phone. Goodbye, Luke. Goodbye, Brooke.
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