I drove all the way to the airport cargo terminal to pick up a crate of fresh peaches, shipped overnight from back home in the South. They were ripe, heavy, and smelled of the sweet, humid summers I’d left behind. My heart was light as I dialed Elliot’s number. Once. Twice. Nineteen times. No answer. My best friend, Daphne, picked up my FaceTime call on her second ring. She was flush-faced and breathless, clearly in the middle of a jog. “Still no answer?” Daphne panted, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Megan, for God’s sake, have some self-respect.” “He’s probably just in a meeting,” I defended weakly. “If a man isn’t there when you call nineteen times, he’s not worth the battery life. What if you were in a ditch somewhere? He wouldn’t even know.” I forced a laugh, trying to play it off with my usual easygoing optimism. “Don’t be dramatic. He’s just busy. Make sure you come over early tonight, okay? I’m making a feast.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the camera. “You are utterly hopeless, Megan. A textbook romantic fool.” I ended the call and slipped my hand into my coat pocket, tracing the crisp edges of the positive pregnancy test. I wanted to surprise them both tonight—my husband and my best friend. But twenty minutes later, standing outside the door of the private VIP room at Elliot’s gym, my world fell apart. The door wasn’t fully closed. Through the narrow crack, a conversation drifted out, stripping the strength right out of my bones. “After today, we have to end this,” Daphne’s voice was a low, breathless murmur. “If Megan finds out, it will destroy her.” Elliot’s response was immediate, sharp, and dripping with an intensity he hadn’t shown me in years. “End it? You want to kill me, Daphne? Then we just don’t let her find out. We take it to our graves.” Seven years of freezing in this brutal northern city, trying so hard to adapt, to make this place a home. “Give up, Megan,” a cold, quiet voice inside me whispered. “Just give up.” … I stepped back into the shadows of the hallway. Ten minutes later, Elliot and Daphne walked out, one after the other. The moment Elliot saw me standing there, a flash of pure panic crossed his eyes before he quickly masked it, hurrying his pace. “Megan? What are you doing here?” He pulled out his phone, staring at the nineteen missed calls. “I’m so sorry, babe. I was in a meeting and had it on silent. Is everything okay?” The worry in his eyes looked so genuine, so real. But the faint scent of Daphne’s signature perfume clinging to his collar made me want to throw up. I flinched, stepping back to avoid his hand as he reached out to touch my forehead. “Megan, don’t let him off too easy,” Daphne chimed in, glaring playfully at Elliot before grabbing my hands. “Look at you, your hands are freezing.” Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing still slightly uneven. “Don’t be mad, sweetie. Once we get back, I’ll make sure he pays for keeping you waiting.” In her mouth, the word “pays” sounded heavy with a sickening intimacy. “Daphne,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “I thought you were jogging outside.” Daphne’s expression stiffened for a fraction of a second. She forced a bright, easy smile. “Oh, it was way too noisy on the street. I ran into Elliot in the lobby, and he offered to show me some form adjustments in the private room.” She looped her arm through mine, leaning in. “What, are you auditing my gym sessions now? Afraid I’m going to steal your husband?” It was phrased as a joke, but her eyes held a sharp, calculating scrutiny. I looked down at her hand resting on my arm. Around her wrist was the delicate, hand-woven red friendship bracelet I had crafted for her birthday. Gently, but firmly, I pulled my arm away. “I was worried you’d be hungry. I got the peaches. They’re already in the car. I’m going to make dinner for us.” Elliot let out a subtle sigh of relief and stepped forward, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “You’re the best, honey. Come on, let’s go home.” When we reached the SUV, I automatically reached for the front passenger door. But Elliot’s hand shot out, gently but firmly blocking the handle. “Megan, why don’t you take the back seat?” I froze, staring at him. He avoided my gaze, looking over at Daphne instead. “Daphne just had a crazy workout. She’s soaked in sweat, and the AC vents in the back blow directly on you. She’ll catch a cold.” Daphne waved her hands in mock protest, her tone sweet and dripping with false consideration. “Oh, no, really, I’m fine! Megan gets carsick so easily. She should definitely sit up front.” She made a show of refusing, yet her feet were already moving toward the open passenger door. Elliot glanced at my pale face. “Are you feeling sick again? Did you eat something bad? Just bear with it for a few minutes, honey. We’ll be home soon.” Without giving me a chance to reply, he opened the passenger door wider for Daphne. Daphne slid into the leather seat with an apologetic pout. “Well, I guess we’re putting our sweet Megan out a little bit.” I climbed into the back alone, pulling myself into the darkest corner of the seat. Up front, Elliot was adjusting the seat angle and the AC vents for her. His movements were so practiced, so completely natural. “Is this angle okay? Not too cold?” he asked, his voice softening to a register he rarely used with me anymore. Daphne gave a soft hum of approval. Leaning my head against the cold window, I watched their quiet, synchronized interactions. My mind drifted back to when I first moved up North. The brutal winter air, the dry heat indoors, and the foreign food had triggered a massive allergic reaction. I had been miserable, covered in hives, throwing up for weeks. Elliot had held me through the long, freezing nights, kissing the tears from my swollen eyes, whispering vows into my hair. “I swear to God, Megan, I will never let you suffer. I will spend the rest of my life making sure you’re protected.” “If I ever betray you, may I rot.” Seven years. The vows were still fresh in my memory, but the man holding them had already rotted from the inside out. I gently rested my hand against my flat stomach, letting my tears fall silently in the dark. Daphne leaned back, closing her eyes to rest. Every few seconds, Elliot’s eyes would drift from the road to steal a glance at her, his face filled with an aching tenderness he couldn’t hide. It was only when we pulled into our driveway that he finally remembered I was in the car. He caught my eye in the rearview mirror and asked casually, “So, what are we having for dinner?” I stared back at his reflection, holding his gaze. “Let’s have the peaches,” I said, my voice thick and slow. “One last time.” Elliot was busy draping his jacket over Daphne’s shoulders to keep her warm. He just nodded absently at my response, completely missing the raspy weight of my voice, or the finality in my words. Inside the house, Elliot stood by the kitchen island, slicing a peach for me. As the sticky sweet juice ran down his fingers, his brow furrowed, his movements tightening with a subtle irritation. “Megan, let’s stop buying these Southern peaches,” he said, tossing the knife into the sink. He pushed the plate of sliced peaches toward me and turned on the faucet to wash his hands. “We’ve been importing them for seven years. To be honest, I’m getting tired of them.” The knife in my hand slipped. The blade sliced clean into my index finger, and a bright bead of blood welled up instantly. “How are you still this careless?” Elliot sighed, grabbing my hand and pulling it under the cold running tap. I stared down at the crown of his head. My chest felt as if it were packed with frozen cotton wool. Every breath I took scratched the inside of my lungs. When I first arrived in this city, I couldn’t stomach the heavy, starchy foods. I lost fifteen pounds in the first two months. Elliot had been so worried that he spent his entire weekend driving around specialty organic markets, spending half his paycheck to order a crate of Southern peaches just to see me eat. When he peeled the first one and fed it to me, his smile had been so pure, so full of devotion. “As long as you love them, Megan, I’ll peel them for you for the rest of our lives.” The rest of our lives had only lasted seven years. I pulled my hand back gently, wrapping a paper towel around the cut. “It’s fine. Just a scratch.” Daphne leaned against the kitchen doorframe, chewing on a slice of peach. “Don’t mind him, Megan,” she murmured around the fruit, her voice dripping with casual familiarity. “As long as you like them. He’s just always hated sticky things.” Elliot didn’t deny it. Instead, he flicked a few drops of water from his hands onto her face, offering a mock scowl. “Keep your mouth shut.” Then, he naturally took the knife from my hand. “Let me finish up. Go sit down.” I forced a polite smile. “No, I’ve got it.” I turned back to the stove, sliding the chopped vegetables into the hot pan. The loud, crackling sizzle of the oil drowned out my quiet sigh. “You’re right,” I murmured. “I won’t buy them anymore.” Elliot seemed surprised by how easily I’d yielded. He cast a sideways glance at me, opening his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately picked up the bowl of peaches and walked into the dining room. From the dining room, Daphne’s voice drifted back, playful and teasing. “Come on, Elliot, peel another one! Nobody peels them as well as you do.” “Watch it, you’ll get a stomachache,” Elliot replied, his voice soft with indulgence. I brought out the last dish. Elliot was carefully pulling the bones out of a piece of fish, placing the clean meat onto Daphne’s plate. “Megan, Daphne’s stomach has been acting up lately,” he said without looking up. “Try not to make things so oily next time.” He added a piece of steamed fish to her bowl, then tossed a lonely stalk of broccoli onto my plate. “Thanks for cooking tonight.” Daphne took a bite of the fish. She chewed twice, and then her face went completely white. Suddenly, she clutched her throat, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. “Water… I need water…” Elliot scrambled to pour a glass, but when Daphne tried to drink, she choked and threw it back up. Bright red, angry hives began blooming across her neck and chest at a terrifying speed. “Elliot… I can’t… I can’t breathe…” Elliot’s face drained of color. He gathered her into his arms as she began to slump over, his voice cracking with pure terror. “Daphne! What is happening? Daphne!” She pointed a trembling finger at the plate of fish. “The glaze… there’s… peanut oil…” Elliot spun around, his eyes wild and bloodshot as he roared at me, “Megan! You know she has a severe peanut allergy! What the hell did you put in this?!” I froze, my hands shaking. “I didn’t… I only used the regular sesame glaze. I didn’t put any peanut oil in it!” “Stop lying!” Elliot shrieked. He lunged forward and shoved me out of his way. The force of his push caught me entirely off guard. I stumbled backward, my lower back crashing violently against the sharp edge of the wooden dining table. A sharp, white-hot pain flared through my abdomen. I doubled over, clutching my stomach, barely able to breathe. But Elliot didn’t even look back. He swept Daphne up into his arms and kicked the front door open, sprinting out into the night. I crumpled onto the hardwood floor, the cramping in my womb growing sharper, deeper, and heavier. Something warm and wet began to trickle slowly down the inside of my thigh. Staring at the empty, open doorway, I gathered every ounce of strength left in my body and screamed into the void: “Elliot, I’m pregnant!” But my voice only dissolved into the cold, empty air of the apartment. With shaking fingers, I pulled out my phone and dialed 911 myself. At the hospital, the doctor stood over my bed, his expression grim as he reviewed my charts. “You have signs of a threatened miscarriage,” he said softly. “We need to keep you for observation. Strict bed rest. No moving, do you understand?” I lay there, staring at the sterile ceiling, listening to the muffled chatter of two nurses changing the IV bags nearby. “ER was a madhouse tonight. They brought in a girl with anaphylactic shock. Almost didn’t make it.” “Yeah, her boyfriend was practically on his knees begging the doctors to save her. Talk about true love.” A cold chill ran down my spine. “Excuse me,” I croaked, my voice dry. “The patient in the ER… what was her name?” “I think it was Daphne,” one of the nurses offered gently. Despite everything, a lingering sense of worry made me crawl out of bed. I dragged my IV pole down to the second-floor observation ward. “Daphne,” I whispered, seeing her lying pale and fragile under the white blankets. The swelling in her face had subsided. I reached out to touch her hand. But Elliot’s hand shot out, shoving me away. “She just fell asleep. Don’t wake her.” He carefully tucked the blanket around her chin, then grabbed my wrist, pulling me roughly out of the room. “How is she?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Is she going to be okay?” “Megan!” Elliot snapped, releasing my wrist with a look of absolute disgust. “She is your best friend. How could you do this to her?” “I didn’t! I swear I didn’t!” My voice cracked, my fingers icy cold. “I didn’t touch anything with peanuts. I know how dangerous it is for her. Why would I ever want to hurt her?” Elliot let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “You were the only one in that kitchen, Megan. Who else could have done it?” I held my aching abdomen, taking a step back. “Is that really who you think I am?” He turned his face away, refusing to meet my eyes. “Just go home. I’ll stay here with Daphne. We’ll talk when she wakes up.” I couldn’t bring myself to go back to my empty room. I waited in the far corner of the hallway, desperate to make sure Daphne was safe, desperate to make him believe me. Hours later, the ward doors opened. Elliot was gently supporting Daphne as they walked out. I took a step forward, but the words that came out of Daphne’s mouth froze me in my tracks. “Elliot, it’s been three years. I can’t keep doing this. I want to tell Megan.” “Tell her? Tell her what?” Daphne’s voice rose, trembling with a fragile hysteria. “Tell her that three years ago, when she was crying in a hospital bed waiting for her appendix surgery, we were hooked up in a hotel downtown?” “Tell her that I’ve been sleeping with her husband behind her back?” “We made a mistake, Elliot! We betrayed her!” “Don’t you dare say that!” Elliot’s voice was fiercely protective. I bit my lip so hard I tasted the warm, metallic tang of blood. “Three years ago.” I remembered that night. I had been rolling in agony on a hospital cot, calling Elliot over and over. He told me he was stuck at a last-minute corporate retreat. I had called Daphne, and she had cried on the phone, claiming she was stuck on a business trip out of state. I had actually spent my energy comforting “her”, telling her it was fine, that I would be okay. How could I have been so incredibly blind? “You almost died tonight, Daphne!” Elliot urged, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be with you openly!” Daphne let out a broken sob, her voice softening. “I don’t blame her, Elliot… but think about how much this will destroy her. She moved all the way up North for you… seven years of her life…” She wept into his chest. Elliot cupped her face, tenderly wiping away her tears before pulling her into a desperate, passionate kiss. “I won’t let her hurt you again, Daphne. I promise. I’ll handle everything, okay?” Watching them hold each other in the dim light of the hospital corridor, something inside me clicked shut. I turned around, walked back to the doctor’s office, and scheduled the earliest appointment for a termination procedure. It was late afternoon by the time I returned to the apartment. Elliot was waiting in the living room. The moment I walked through the door, he rushed toward me, trying to grab my hands. “Megan, where the hell have you been? You look terrible. Do you have any idea how worried Daphne and I were?” I slipped my hands behind my back, avoiding his touch. “I stayed at a friend’s place.” Elliot’s hands hovered awkwardly in the air before slowly dropping to his sides. “Well… as long as you’re okay.” “Megan!” Daphne leaned against the doorframe of the guest room, her face still slightly washed out. “I’m so sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to keep Elliot away from you.” Seeing her, Elliot immediately rushed to her side, offering his arm. “You’re still weak. Why are you out of bed? Megan’s back now, you can rest easy.” Daphne looked at me, a tight smile on her face. “Megan, let’s just put last night behind us. Tomorrow is Elliot’s birthday. What secret gift did you plan for him?” She was desperate to steer the conversation away from the kitchen. “It’s a surprise,” I said quietly. I walked over to the coffee table, picked up my phone, and opened a forum link I had saved. “Daphne, I saw a thread online earlier. I thought it was pretty interesting and wanted to get your take on it.” I turned the screen toward her. The headline was bold: “I just found out my partner of seven years has been sleeping with my best friend for three. What should I do?” Daphne’s face drained of what little color she had left. She shot a panicked look at Elliot. Elliot froze, staring at the screen, his breathing suddenly heavy and ragged. “Why… why are you reading garbage like that?” Daphne forced a laugh, her voice trembling violently. “Just curious,” I said, looking her dead in the eye. “If you were the girlfriend, what would you do?” Daphne bit her lip, her eyes darting around the room. “I… I’d dump him, obviously. Start over.” “Exactly,” I nodded. Elliot’s jaw clenched, his posture incredibly stiff. “Daphne and I need to go make reservations for tomorrow night before they fill up.” He grabbed his coat, pulled Daphne with him, and slammed the front door behind them. The moment the lock clicked, a massive wave of relief washed over me. I walked into the bedroom and packed my bags. I didn’t take a single thing Elliot had bought me over the last seven years. I only packed the worn-out clothes and personal keepsakes I had brought from the South. I slipped my engagement ring off my finger and placed it in the center of the kitchen island. Next to it, I laid my house key. I rolled my suitcase out of the building and hailed a cab straight to the airport. As the plane roared down the runway and lifted into the night sky, I looked out at the city lights shrinking below me, and finally let go. That night, Elliot and Daphne didn’t come back to the apartment. The following evening, Elliot’s birthday dinner was held at an upscale downtown restaurant. Friends were laughing, clinking glasses, and Daphne was tucked close to his side, radiant. “Where’s Megan?” one of their mutual friends asked. “Didn’t she say she had a surprise for you?” Elliot frowned, pulling out his phone. The last message from me was still from three days ago. Just then, a waiter approached their table carrying an elegant, beautifully wrapped box. “Pardon me, is one of you Mr. Elliot? A local courier just dropped this off from a Ms. Megan.” Elliot’s face relaxed into a smug smile. “I knew it. She might be stubborn, but she’d never miss my birthday.” He proudly opened the box in front of everyone. But the moment he saw what was inside, the blood completely drained from his face. “No… this can’t be…”
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