I had just gotten back from my best friend Chloe’s bachelorette party when a push notification pulled me to a post on a popular anonymous blog. The title was: “Need a birthday gift under $300 that will absolutely humiliate someone. It’s for my best friend.” The comment section flooded with vicious ideas. The blogger rejected every last one. Same response every time: “Not disgusting enough.” In the end, she pinned her own reply. “Thanks, everyone. But her boyfriend said he’d help me get even at her birthday party. He’s going to make her embarrass herself in front of everyone.” The internet caught the weirdness immediately. “Your best friend’s boyfriend is helping you go after her? What exactly are you two?” The blogger answered with pure arrogance, followed by several eye-roll emojis. “What are we? The first bite of every steak he cooks goes to me. Anything he wins at auction, I get first pick.” “His first kiss was mine. That whole night — every round, from first to fifth — mine.” “He delayed his proposal five times for me. That diamond ring worth over a hundred grand? It has our initials on it.” My heart clenched. For a second, all I could think was — who does this? I reached to flag the post. But something stopped me. Instead, I tapped her profile banner. In the photo, a man and a woman had their fingers laced together. A diamond ring caught the light on her hand, blazing. My heart sank. That was the ring my boyfriend, Alexander, and I had personally designed six months ago at Van Cleef & Arpels in Paris. … I sat there frozen for a long time. Long enough for my screen to go dark on its own. Just one hour ago, Alexander had looked down at Chloe, who was “dead drunk” in his arms, and frowned. “Bella, look at her. She’s completely wasted. I’ll have the driver take you home. And I’ll make sure she gets back safe” I hadn’t actually drunk that much. The second the New York night air hit me, I sobered up. Out of habit, I nodded. I even reminded him to text me once Chloe was settled. But during that thirty-minute ride home, every call I made and every message I sent disappeared into nothing. Now, staring at Chloe’s post, I finally understood. She was sober. Very sober. Even the drunken act had been carefully planned. My phone buzzed. A message from Alexander popped up. “Your Highness, your bestie is home safe.” “Your knight is on his way back to you. At full speed.”
I didn’t reply. Instead, I opened that post again and zoomed in on the profile picture. That ring was one of a kind. I had drawn dozens of drafts by hand before we finally settled on it. On the man’s wrist was a limited-edition Patek Philippe watch. The birthday gift I gave him this year. On the woman’s wrist was a Cartier LOVE bracelet. I had gone to the boutique and bought it myself. One for me. One for her. A symbol of our friendship. Someone asked under the post: “What exactly did your best friend do to you?” She replied: “She’s loaded, but all she gave me today was a brooch. She used to foot the bill for my entire party every single year.” Someone else asked: “You and your best friend’s boyfriend are cheating behind her back. Are you not scared she’ll find out?” She answered: “Back in sophomore year, when we went skiing in Aspen, I gave him advice on how to go after her. But my condition was that he had to spend seven nights with me first. He agreed.” “The next morning, my legs were so weak I couldn’t even get out of bed, so I lied and told her I wasn’t feeling well. And my sweet, clueless best friend felt so terrible for me, she asked her boyfriend to carry me down the mountain.” I stared at those words. Every line burned. My stomach turned. I remembered that day. I had rushed to hand her an oxygen can, worried out of my mind. “Chloe, if you don’t feel well, just stay at the hotel and rest.” Even Alexander spoke to her gently. “Don’t push yourself. If you really want to ski, Bella and I will bring you back another time.” But Chloe rolled her eyes at him. She insisted on going anyway. But barely two steps in, her face drained of color. I couldn’t bear to watch her suffer. So I asked Alexander to carry her. I blinked. My nose stung. A tear fell onto my phone screen. I switched back to the chat. My thoughts were so tangled I didn’t even know where to begin. Just last week, Chloe had held my hand and joked. She said that as our self-appointed “witness to the love story,” she was going to drag us at the wedding — call out every single time we’d made our single friends want to disappear. I laughed so hard I collapsed against her. And I promised her that my bouquet would only go to her. But I never saw this coming. The two people I had trusted without reservation— they joined forces to deliver the most complete betrayal of my life.
The three of us — me, Alexander, and Chloe — had known each other for twelve years, since our days at Columbia. When Alexander confessed his feelings to me at the freshman mixer, Chloe stepped in front of me, furious. “Alexander Thorne! Bella is the princess of the Vance family. You’re some broke scholarship boy. What, do you think she shines too bright for you? Are you trying to drag her off that pedestal with some cheap move like this?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I pulled her back. “Chloe, I only got the top score in design class because Alexander helped me build the model.” “And you know I hurt my hand before. He helped me organize all my notes.” Back then, seeing the troubled look on Chloe’s face, I figured she just thought I’d fallen for the wrong guy. During college, everyone knew how good Alexander was to me. Every day, he drove that beat-up secondhand car to pick me up. He remembered my period better than I did. That old backpack of his, worn shiny from years of use, was always packed with my favorite snacks and every emergency item I could possibly need. By junior year, Alexander was already planning our future. On the back of a business proposal, he wrote out his entire life plan — every detail — trying to prove to me that he could become someone I could count on. Over the years, he kept every promise he made. The company he founded went public, and he became the youngest CEO in Wall Street history. He was steady, never volatile. No matter how busy work got, he still came home and cooked for me himself. He chose the diamond ring with me. He was going to propose at my birthday party this year. Then next year, we would have our wedding in the Hamptons. After that, we would have children of our own. Every part of his plan had me in it. But outside that plan… There was Chloe.
The post updated again. I tapped it open before I could stop myself. “Actually, I’ve sent her disgusting gifts before. Indirectly, but still. Like that antique cross bracelet she’s been wearing lately.” “I was in a bad mood back then, and things between me and him got a little too wild. The condom broke inside me. He was okay with that. Later, he still gave her that bracelet and claimed he’d gotten it blessed at the Vatican.” My eyes drifted on their own to the vanity. That bracelet was Alexander’s Easter gift to me this year. He told me he had stood in line for three days to have a bishop bless it for me. “And last Thanksgiving, he took me back to his family’s old house in the countryside to meet his parents.” “This little gold family locket on my wrist? His mother gave it to me.” “He said he couldn’t give me a marriage, but he would more than make up for it in every other way.” Boom. My mind went completely blank. His mother’s plain, honest face flashed before my eyes, along with the apologetic words she had said to me. “We don’t have anything of value to offer. This silver locket was passed down to me by his grandmother…”
By the time Alexander came back, it was already one a.m. He smelled like Chloe’s favorite Tom Ford perfume. He smiled at me, warm and indulgent. “Were you waiting for me to dry your hair?” I looked at him coldly and was just about to question him. Then Chloe’s video call came in. She blew me a kiss through the screen, her eyes bleary and glassy, still half-drunk. “Bella, you’re the best.” “I love the brooch you gave me.” Her voice suddenly dropped. “I just feel bad. I’m so broke, and tomorrow is your birthday. I can’t give you anything that expensive in return…” I cut her off, my voice flat. “Oh.” Chloe froze for a second when she saw my face. Then Alexander wrapped his arms tight around me from behind, burying his face in my neck — the same as always, competing with Chloe for my affection. “Bella, the person who loves you most is obviously me…” As he spoke, his lips moved toward my cheek. On the screen, Chloe let out a sharp scream — and her phone crashed to the floor. Alexander’s eyes snapped to my phone. In an instant, all the color drained from his face. Chloe wasn’t on the video. No sound, either. He rushed straight toward the entryway, his voice tight with an agitation and panic I had never heard from him before. “Bella, something’s wrong with Chloe. I have to go check on her!” The door slammed shut with a loud bang. But I heard it clearly. Right before the call cut out, I caught the faintest laugh. I opened that anonymous blog again. The newest post dripped with malice, all of it aimed straight at me. “She’s so stupid. She has no idea I called him away on purpose.” “Tomorrow is her birthday, and she definitely won’t figure out my gift is meant to disgust her. Boring.” My heart sank — cold, heavy, all the way down.
I lay on the couch all night, hair still wet, staring at the ceiling until dawn. One memory kept replaying in my head. That trip to Aspen. The day we climbed all the way to the top. Chloe shouted into the wind, “Alexander Thorne, you’d better love Isabella Vance for the rest of your life!” Alexander glanced at her, then shouted too, “Chloe Ryder and Isabella Vance, best friends forever!” At 8 a.m., my alarm went off right on time. I sent Alexander a message. “Alexander, let’s break up.” The smart lock clicked open. And Chloe’s voice came in first, snapping at Alexander like he was hers to boss around. “This is your fault. You woke up late, and now we couldn’t get Bella’s favorite French croissants.” “You’re the one who took forever,” Alexander shot back. “You had to put on makeup just to come see Bella.” “That’s because you kept me up all night—” They walked into the living room carrying several different kinds of breakfast, both of them smiling like nothing had happened. The second they saw me lying on the couch, their voices died. What they had just been talking about was obvious. Alexander calmly set the breakfast on the table, then gave a soft laugh. “Oh — special alert from my princess. Let me see what she sent.” He looked down at his phone. Then his face went pale. Chloe leaned in beside him. Their faces were so close. Then her eyes moved to me, who was sitting there with no expression. There was a hint of amusement in her voice. “Bella, come on. Just because Alexander didn’t come home last night?” “I should be mad at you. I fell by accident, and you didn’t even call once to check on me.” “And I still got up early to buy you breakfast.” All the little things I used to ignore suddenly stood out. Since when were croissants from that bakery across town my favorite? Chloe was the one who loved them. Alexander lined up for them every single time, no matter how much trouble it was. And after a while, I became the one who “loved” them. I looked at Chloe, my voice perfectly calm, without a ripple. “Didn’t you fake that fall just to lure him back to that little apartment of yours?” “Chloe, I heard that little laugh before you hung up.” “And I saw the hickeys. On both of you.” Chloe instinctively pulled her collar higher.
Alexander rushed toward me. He swallowed hard. “No, Bella. It’s not what you think.” “Chloe passed out last night. I stayed and took care of her, so I couldn’t come home.” “I swear. It won’t happen again.” The first day Alexander and I moved in together, we made one rule. No staying out all night. Everything we had been through… All the good memories… I still wanted this to end with some dignity. But looking at those two faces, something in me broke loose. My voice came out shaking. “Break up.” That was all I could say. Chloe shoved Alexander hard and snapped, “Apologize to Bella! Beg her forgiveness!” Then she dropped to her knees with a thud. “Whatever happened, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. Bella, I’ll apologize first, okay?” But Alexander yanked Chloe back up. His eyes were full of pain. For her. Then he looked at me. There was no guilt. Only disappointment. “Bella. Apologize to Chloe.” “We’ve put up with your temper for so long. But we get tired.” “Can’t you grow up for once?” “Why can’t you trust us the way we trust you?” Something inside me snapped for good. I felt nothing. Just numb. “You cheated on me.” “And you still keep acting?” “If you don’t leave, I’ll have security walk you out.” Chloe pulled Alexander away. As they left, she leaned in close to him — but made sure I could hear every word. “Let her cool off first.” “Who knows who upset her this time? Now she’s taking it out on us.” “I bet she binged some soap opera and decided she’s the main character.”
I thought I had made myself clear enough. The people who set you up know exactly how wronged you are. And the people who betrayed you know exactly what they’ve done. I blew out the candles on my birthday cake. The lights in the banquet hall came back on. And there they were. Standing side by side. Smiling at me. Chloe acted like nothing had happened. She was holding a huge, tacky Swarovski crystal figurine in her arms. “Surprise!” She pushed it into my hands, all smiles and cheerful chatter. “I picked this out just for you, Bella. Do you like it?” Then Alexander dropped to one knee. He lifted that diamond ring toward me, his eyes full of tenderness. “Bella, marry me.” The diamond blazed with light, and the whole room burst into cheers. Someone shouted, “Say yes!” I looked down. Inside the crystal figurine was a carving of me. And Chloe had picked the worst possible photo. It was a shot from some party — me drunk, mouth hanging open, looking completely out of it. She had always loved snapping ugly photos of me, then showing them to Alexander and saying I looked “real” and “cute.” Our friends all raised their phones and started filming. Chloe stepped behind Alexander. Her phone was pointed right at me. Then I saw her smug little smile. I knew exactly how ridiculous I looked. There I was — dressed up for the night, holding that ugly crystal thing, cheap rainbow light glittering off it. Ridiculous. Alexander raised the ring a little higher, urgency creeping into his voice. “Bella, Chloe got you that gift to make it up to you.” “Everyone’s watching. Haven’t you been waiting for my proposal?” Make it up to me? I lowered my eyes. Alexander acted like he couldn’t see how cheap and ugly Chloe’s gift was. I wanted to laugh. But the tears came first. Alexander and Chloe thought I was crying because I was moved. I closed my eyes. I raised my hand — Suddenly, sharp laughter erupted all around me. Several bottles of champagne were shaken and aimed straight at me, spraying me from head to toe.
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