My fiancée, Scarlett, was throwing a birthday party for her childhood best friend, Dylan, and I went along. After a few too many drinks, Dylan grinned and spilled a secret: “One time, I went to the clinic to donate sperm, but I was so nervous I couldn’t get it done. Scarlett happened to be passing by and just…helped me out. Don’t get the wrong idea, we didn’t actually do anything.” The air in the bar froze for a few seconds, then erupted into shouts. “Whoa!” A guy in a floral shirt slammed his hand on the table. “Dylan, that’s a creative alibi! Was it a VIP suite at the clinic, with a bed and everything?” “Screw off!” Dylan laughed, punching the floral shirt guy. “You guys just have dirty minds!” “We have dirty minds?” Another girl with short hair, Chloe, jumped in. “Then tell us, how exactly did Scarlett ‘help’ you?” Dylan pretended to cover her mouth, and they burst into laughter, playfully wrestling. Everyone else chimed in, their voices a chaotic chorus. “Scarlett, you’re such a good friend! To help with that! Wanna help me out next time?” I gripped my glass, my knuckles turning white. I glanced over at Scarlett. She wasn’t embarrassed at all. She was even smiling. She lifted a hand and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “What are you guys even talking about? I just happened to be going to the building next door to drop off some paperwork. How was I supposed to know Dylan was so useless?” The atmosphere in the private room reached a new peak of hilarity. Amidst the teasing, Dylan dramatically covered his face and wailed. I abruptly stood up. All the laughing and talking stopped. A dozen pairs of eyes turned to me, dead silent. Scarlett finally looked up at me, her brow slightly furrowed. “Alex, what’s wrong now?”
I stared at her. I’d spent seven years pursuing her. Now, I had no idea what to say. I turned and walked out of the private room. Whispers started behind me. “Oh, here we go again.” “Alex is always making a scene about jealousy. Can you imagine what marriage would be like with him?” “Seriously, if he can’t handle a joke, he shouldn’t show up. Total buzzkill…” When I stepped out of the bar, the night wind hit me hard. “Alex! Stop right there!” Scarlett chased after me, finally grabbing my arm. “What do you mean, just walking off without a word? You just made me look like an idiot in front of all my friends.” I slowly turned around. She was slightly out of breath, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and anger. “What else was I supposed to do?” My voice was dry and hoarse. “Was I supposed to just keep sitting there, listening to them ask for every gory detail of how you ‘helped’ Dylan donate sperm, and then laugh along with everyone else?” Scarlett paused, then yanked her arm away. “I knew it! It’s always the same with you!” “Alex, when are you going to lighten up?” “Dylan is just my friend. It’s his birthday, we had a few drinks, what’s wrong with a little joking around?” “Did you really need to storm out and make a face like that? Do you have any idea how much of a downer that is, and how much you embarrass me?” “Joking around?” I tried to find even a flicker of empathy in her beautiful eyes. But there was nothing. “Scarlett, that wasn’t a joke.” “For any man, that’s not a joke.” “It’s a red line!” She looked at me as if I’d said something completely unbelievable, her eyebrows knitting together. “A red line? What’s the big deal? I just helped him out in the past!” “It’s a perfectly normal thing, and you’re making it sound so disgusting. People with dirty minds think everything’s dirty.” Her matter-of-fact tone hit me like a bucket of ice water. “And I already explained, it was just a coincidence, and I was just wearing a black dress. I left right after helping him, we didn’t even touch hands. What are you even fixating on?” That black dress. Hearing that, my stomach churned again. She’d never understand, or maybe she simply didn’t care. What those symbols, so meaningful to me, meant when she so casually tossed them into such a foul joke. Seeing my silence, the anger on her face softened a little. She reached out and ruffled my hair. Like she was trying to soothe a pouting child, her voice softened. “Okay, okay, I said the wrong thing, alright? I promise there won’t be a next time, no more jokes like that, okay? Don’t make that face. Come back inside with me, we’re about to cut the cake.” I pressed my lips together, my Adam’s apple bobbing. I struggled to suppress my swirling emotions: “Promise me one thing, and I’ll go back.” She immediately responded, her tone clearly impatient. “What is it? Just say it!” “Limit your attendance at Dylan’s gatherings and keep your distance from him.” I spoke each word clearly and slowly. Scarlett didn’t hesitate for a second, as if she’d already anticipated this kind of request, and quickly agreed: “Fine, fine, I promise.” “Is that good enough? Let’s go, don’t keep everyone waiting.” She reached out to link her arm through mine. Back in the private room, they indeed stopped teasing about the incident. But the unspoken understanding in the air became even thicker. Exchanged glances, subtle suppressed smiles. I sat in the corner, the surrounding merriment feeling entirely disconnected from me. Soon, a server wheeled in an exquisite birthday cake, its candles flickering. Everyone cheered, urging Dylan to make a wish. His eyes swept around the room, finally landing on Scarlett beside him. Dylan put an arm around her and said, “My wish is… to stay with my best friend, forever!” “To friendship!”
Cheers and applause instantly erupted, almost lifting the roof off. In the candlelight, Dylan looked smug and satisfied, tightening his arm around Scarlett. And Scarlett, my fiancée, the woman I’d pursued for seven years and was about to marry. She leaned into his embrace, turned her head to look at him, her eyes curving, smiling brightly and radiantly. I felt completely numb. Back home, Scarlett kicked off her heels and habitually stretched her legs towards me. “So tired… Alex, rub my legs.” She waited a few seconds, but I didn’t move. Her beautiful brows furrowed, showing her annoyance at being ignored: “Alex? I’m talking to you! Did you hear me?” Seeing me still sitting silently, just smoking, her displeasure deepened. “Ugh, you’re not starting again, are you? Are you ever going to be done with this? If you don’t want to, then don’t!” She pulled back her legs, walked barefoot across the floor, and headed towards the bathroom without a backward glance. I held the cigarette between my fingers, its glow flickering in the dim living room. Smoke swirled, blurring her retreating figure, and blurring the future that had once been so clear to me. My first meeting with Scarlett was seven years ago. She wore a white dress and white sneakers, looking lost in the heavy rain outside the library. I offered to walk her back to her dorm, and when she blushed and softly nodded, my heart skipped a beat. From that day on, I began my long pursuit. She was the undisputed campus queen, brilliant, and from a well-off family, never lacking admirers. And I, apart from a desperate courage and a genuine heart, had almost nothing. Thinking back on those clumsy yet passionate efforts now, even I find them incredible. My friends all called me an idiot, a simp, and told me to just give up. I wasn’t without frustration, I’d thought about giving up too. But every time I saw her give me a faint smile, or a simple “thank you.” All the grievances and exhaustion would instantly vanish. Finally, the year she graduated college, she said yes. The early days were sweet and warm. We decorated our little place together. She would lean into my arms, planning our future. She talked about getting a cat, having two kids, and traveling every year… I thought we would always be this happy, that she was the entire meaning of my efforts. But everything changed when Dylan came back from abroad. Their families were equally well-off, they were childhood friends, attending the same schools from kindergarten all the way through high school. As Scarlett’s best friend, it was natural for him to frequently appear in our lives. At first, I didn’t mind. But gradually, things started to feel wrong. Scarlett began setting a password on her phone, and she changed it frequently. When I asked, she casually said the internet wasn’t safe these days, and she needed to guard against harassment. She used to come home from work and chatter away about her day’s interesting events or complain about work frustrations. Now, she was working overtime more and more, coming home later and later. Even when she was home, she wasn’t as affectionate, cuddling up on the sofa to watch shows with me. Instead, she’d be engrossed in her phone, typing furiously, a sweet and shy smile occasionally playing on her lips. When I asked what she was laughing at, she’d quickly lock the screen. “Nothing, just saw a funny video.” And I, afraid of losing her, chose to believe. I even felt ashamed for my suspicions. Until tonight. Seeing her nestled in Dylan’s arms… I knew then that I’d been wrong. The next morning, Scarlett woke up uncharacteristically early. When I walked out of the bedroom, she was already coming out of the kitchen with milk and breakfast. A rare, almost gentle smile on her face. She even leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Hurry and eat, you’ll be late for work.”
I was stunned. For the next few days, she seemed to genuinely listen to my requests. Her phone didn’t ring as frequently, she came home from work on time, and she even asked what I wanted for dinner. Though her tone still carried a hint of habitual nonchalance, compared to her previous coldness and neglect, it was a world of difference. My heart, which she had trampled into the mud, began to tragically, carefully, sprout a tiny bud again. Perhaps I was just too sensitive? Perhaps that night was just a drunken misstep? She did care about me after all, and she was willing to change for our future. The gloom that had shrouded my heart slowly began to dissipate. It was time for the wedding dress fitting. This was one of the most anticipated parts before the wedding. Just before quitting time, an urgent meeting suddenly came up, so I texted her. “Sorry, I have a last-minute meeting. I’ll get there as soon as I can, you go ahead and start picking.” She texted back an “okay.” The meeting ended sooner than expected, and I practically grabbed my jacket and bolted out. I imagined how breathtakingly beautiful she would look trying on her wedding dress. Seven years of waiting, and finally, I’d see the girl I loved walk down the aisle for me in a white gown. Pushing open the glass door of the bridal shop, soothing music flowed through the air, mingled with the unique scent of wedding dresses. A sales associate smiled and greeted me. I was about to ask about Scarlett, but my gaze was abruptly drawn to a scene not far away. Scarlett was wearing an incredibly lavish, floor-length wedding gown. However, standing beside her was Dylan, dressed in a formal suit. The photographer adjusted the lighting, giving directions: “Alright, groom, get a little closer to the bride. Yes, gently put your arm around her waist.” Scarlett’s face was beaming with a happy, radiant smile. She tilted her head slightly, leaning against Dylan’s shoulder. The sales associate noticed the look on my face and quickly whispered, “Mr. Davies, please don’t misunderstand. Ms. Miller said you might be late and was eager to see the effect on, so she said Mr. Dylan here had a similar build to you, so… so she just had the photographer help take a few sample shots to see…” The sales associate’s words pierced through the last shred of my self-deception. I saw Dylan’s fingers gently stroking Scarlett’s waist. I saw her not only not flinching, but smiling even sweeter. Their eyes met, that kind of unspoken understanding and intimacy left no room for a third person. I didn’t step forward, I didn’t confront them. I just watched quietly, from a distance. When Scarlett, at the photographer’s request, somewhat reluctantly but acceptingly, kissed Dylan. I turned and walked away, pulling out my phone and dialing a number. The phone rang for a long time. Just when I thought no one would answer, it connected. A soft voice came through. “…Alex?” I took a deep breath. “I’m getting married in two days. Just need a bride. Will you be there?”
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