My so-called best friend tricked me into coming to her house and pushed me onto her husband’s bed. She cried and said, “I’m pregnant and can’t satisfy him. You’re the only one who can help me!” The next day, she waved explicit photos of me in front of my face, threatening to send them to everyone I knew unless I came running every time her husband wanted me. I snapped. Grabbing a kitchen knife, I slashed at them—again and again. The last slash was for myself. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I knocked on her front door. A second chance. “Jenna, what took you so long? I’ve been waiting here for half an hour!” Cassie was standing in the doorway in a pastel pink maternity dress with little bunny patterns, looking as sweet and innocent as ever. She’d pointed it out on one of our shopping trips, saying how much she loved it, so I spent half my paycheck to buy it for her. Her smile back then had made it seem worth it. That’s what best friends are for, right? At least, that’s what I told myself. All the clothes, makeup, and bags she flaunted—most of them were gifts from me. And what did she give me in return? A spot in her husband’s bed. Oh, and let’s not forget the photos. A whole night’s worth of explicit, high-definition evidence of me and her husband. She waved them in my face, threatening to send them to my friends if I didn’t crawl back every time he wanted me. Best friend? Sure. Some best friend. If I’d been given just one minute’s warning before that day, I never would have knocked on her door. But now that I’ve been given a second chance, they can both prepare for hell. I smiled faintly and held up a bag. “You said you were craving hot wings, right? I stood in line to get some for you.” Cassie’s face brightened a little at that, and she pulled me inside, pointing to the groceries piled on the counter. “Jenna, didn’t you say you had a craving for braised pork and lamb stew? I bought all the ingredients, so you can cook it up for us. That way, when my husband gets home, we’ll all have something nice to eat.” I glanced at the sink, still piled high with dirty dishes, and a flicker of mockery passed through my eyes. This was her usual trick. She’d pretend I wanted something, then guilt-trip me into coming over to wash dishes and cook meals for her and her husband. That’s exactly how it had gone the first time around. I’d been so naive back then, thinking it was just another one of her schemes to get me to play housemaid. I never saw it coming when she fed me aphrodisiac-laced food and sent me straight to her husband’s bed. Not this time. This time, I smiled and nodded, playing along. “Cassie, what would you do without me?” I said, my voice dripping with affection. Cassie giggled, her tone sugary sweet. “Even if I didn’t have my husband, I could never live without you!” I smirked slightly. Oh, don’t worry—I’ll make sure you get exactly what you deserve. While Cassie was distracted in the living room, munching on her hot wings, I picked up the stack of dirty dishes from the sink and smashed them—one by one—onto the floor. The sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the house. Cassie craned her neck, staring at the mess in shock. “Jenna, what the hell?! Why did you break all the dishes?” Putting on my best innocent expression, I pouted. “What’s wrong with you guys? These dishes are so greasy I couldn’t even hold onto them. They just slipped right out of my hands!” Her face turned red with rage. “Those dishes were imported! Do you know how expensive they were?!” She ran into the kitchen, crouching down to pick through the shards in search of anything salvageable. She wasn’t careful, though, and her hand slipped, leaving a deep gash. As she stood up, her foot caught on another shard, slicing her skin open again. Blood quickly seeped through her pink bunny dress, staining it a deep crimson. Honestly, the red looked much better on her than the pink. Cassie shrieked, panic and anger mixing in her voice. “I’m bleeding! I’m bleeding so much—oh my God!” She reached out to grab me, her bloodied hand stretching toward me like some grotesque horror movie scene. I took a step back, wrinkling my nose in disgust. “I’m squeamish about blood,” I said, pretending to feel faint. “It’s making me nauseous. I’ll wait for you in the living room.” Without a second glance, I strolled over to the couch and plopped down, ignoring her cries for help. Watching her stumble around, helpless and furious, was an absolute delight.
Not long after, Cassie’s husband, Ethan, came home from work, carrying a few bottles of red wine. The moment he spotted me, a strange smile crept onto his face. “Jenna, I knew you’d be here for dinner, so I went out of my way to grab some wine for us.” I gave him a faint smile. “How thoughtful. Now, why don’t you head to the kitchen and help Cassie with dinner? Make sure the pork is braised until it’s nice and tender—I like it that way.” Ethan’s face darkened, his brows furrowing. “Weren’t you two already cooking? Why do I have to do it?” I almost rolled my eyes right there. Back when Cassie announced she was marrying Ethan, I was the loudest voice against it. He was the walking embodiment of everything wrong with a man: broke, unattractive, stingy, and loaded with an ego the size of Mount Everest. Now, though, I had to admit—they were a match made in heaven. Lock them together forever, please. Cassie poked her head out of the kitchen, her face a picture of wounded innocence. “Ethan, Jenna broke all the dishes while washing them, and I cut myself on the shards. My hands and feet are bleeding!” Ethan set the wine down and walked over to the kitchen. The sight of the greasy mess on the floor mixed with blood was enough to make anyone gag. His face twisted with anger. “How old are you? You can’t even handle something as simple as washing dishes? What’s the point of having you around?” “Other men’s wives have dinner ready and waiting when their husbands get home. You’re just lazy as hell. If you weren’t pregnant, I’d have taught you a lesson right now.” The veins bulging on his forehead, the fists clenched at his sides, and Cassie’s trembling body told me all I needed to know—this wasn’t the first time he’d blown up at her like this. Of course, Cassie never mentioned it to me before. Probably because she was afraid I’d tell her parents, who’d either beat Ethan to a pulp or force them to divorce. Neither outcome was something Cassie wanted. Ah, love. The logic of the hopelessly infatuated is truly beyond comprehension. Cassie tried to soothe him, her voice meek and apologetic. “I swear I’ll do better next time, Ethan. Let’s just focus on cooking for now, okay? Jenna’s probably starving.” Ethan shot me a sleazy glance, his eyes lingering on me far too long before he let out a grunt. “Fine. For Jenna’s sake, I won’t make a big deal out of it today.” Cassie exhaled in relief, but her moment of peace was short-lived. As soon as Ethan turned back around, she threw me a venomous glare, jealousy written all over her face. I caught the whole thing in vivid detail thanks to the mirror hanging on the wall. Despite all his grumbling, Ethan didn’t forget to add his own little twist to the meal. I watched as he pulled a small vial from his pocket and began slipping something into the food—carefully lacing every dish with drugs. At one point, Cassie stopped him. “Ethan, if you spike everything, what am I supposed to eat? If I don’t touch any food, Jenna’s going to get suspicious.” Ethan snorted. “Fine. I’ll leave the salad alone for you.” Cassie beamed at him, her eyes practically sparkling. “I knew you loved me the most.” Listening to this exchange, I nearly burst out laughing. Cassie had started gaslighting herself now. Incredible. Then, as if the scene couldn’t get any more absurd, Ethan pulled out a bottle of Viagra from his pocket and popped two pills into his mouth. Cassie, seeing this, pouted like a jealous teenager. Ethan smirked, reached over, and gave her a firm smack on the butt. Her mood instantly flipped, and she giggled, blushing like she’d just won the lottery. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.
The dining table was packed with food—four dishes and a soup. Cassie eagerly placed a lamb rib on my plate, while Ethan poured me a glass of wine, both of them beaming with over-the-top hospitality that left no room for me to decline. “Jenna, I remember lamb ribs are your favorite. Don’t hold back—eat as much as you like.” “And I know how picky you are about wine. This one’s over $200 a bottle, so drink up,” Ethan added with a smirk. I responded with a soft smile but didn’t touch my plate. Instead, I grabbed a piece of pork from the platter and placed it on Cassie’s plate, my tone playful and indulgent. “Cassie, do you remember back in college when we used to grab pork knuckle rice from that food truck near campus? You’d always steal my pork knuckles. So today, it’s only fair the first bite goes to you.” Cassie’s smile faltered for a second before she forced it back into place. “I’m pregnant now, Jenna. I’m avoiding greasy food.” I pouted, feigning childish annoyance. “If you’re not eating, then neither am I!” Ethan jumped in to mediate. “Cassie, just have a bite. It won’t hurt.” Reluctantly, Cassie picked up the pork knuckle with the thickest layer of skin—the part that had been spiked with the most powder—and took a big bite. Afraid I’d notice anything suspicious, she exaggerated her reaction, chewing quickly and forcing a smile. “It’s really good, Jenna! You should have some too!” she said, piling several pieces of pork knuckle onto my plate with an almost vindictive enthusiasm. I smiled sweetly. “Cassie, you’re giving me all the tendons and leaving Ethan nothing to go with his wine. What’s he supposed to drink with?” With that, I picked up the pork from my plate and dropped it into Ethan’s bowl, giving him a playful wink. “You’re not going to tell me off for not using serving utensils, are you?” Ethan, taken aback by my sudden friendliness, stammered, “Of course not!” He immediately dug in, shoving a piece into his mouth. “This is amazing—so soft and tender!” he said, stuffing more into his mouth between compliments. Cassie, watching this little exchange, grew visibly annoyed. Her voice turned sour. “Ethan, since when do you love pork knuckle so much?” I laughed lightly and, just to provoke her, added more food to Ethan’s bowl. “What’s the matter, Cassie? Don’t tell me you’re jealous of me giving Ethan some food? In that case, I’ll just have to serve him even more!” “And not only am I going to load his plate, but I’m also going to drink with him after dinner. My alcohol tolerance is no joke—I’ll probably have Ethan passed out under the table in no time.” I turned to Ethan, flashing a challenge. “You’re not going to chicken out, are you?” Ethan, always the vain and self-centered type, couldn’t resist. He puffed out his chest and smirked. “Me? Back out? Not a chance. But don’t come crying to me when you can’t keep up!” With that, he polished off the food I’d given him and raised his glass to toast me. I was careful, though. I only drank the wine I’d opened myself. While Ethan was busy trying to outdrink me, I sipped cautiously, knowing full well what kind of people I was dealing with. As a sales professional, drinking was practically in my job description. Knocking back ten Ethans wouldn’t be a problem for me. The more we drank, the more Ethan focused on pouring glass after glass, desperate to get me drunk. He’d forgotten all about convincing me to eat. Meanwhile, Cassie sat to the side, seething with jealousy, her expression twisted and ugly. Cassie wasn’t just a hopeless romantic—she was also incredibly paranoid. Back in college, she had two other close friends from our dorm. We used to hang out and eat together all the time. But one day, during a casual dinner, one of them complimented Ethan’s looks out of politeness. Another got a compliment from Ethan on her figure. That was all it took for Cassie to cut ties with both of them, spreading rumors behind their backs that they were “homewreckers” trying to steal her man. The only reason she stayed close to me was because I’d always made it clear how little I thought of Ethan. My disdain for him was what kept her trust intact.
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