For seven years, Brian and I were a couple, and for those same seven years, my best friend Cassie acted as my unofficial relationship strategist. Whenever Brian pulled all-nighters in the lab and I sat up crying, clutching my phone, Cassie would gently stroke my hair. “Iris, don’t crowd him,” she’d say softly. “Every late night Brian pulls is just him building a secure future for the two of you.” Whenever we drifted into cold silences after a fight, Cassie would sit beside me, holding my hand, helping me pick out the perfect text or meme to break the ice. I was always clumsy with words. When I misspoke and upset him, Cassie would worry more than I did, staying up half the night drafting long, eloquent paragraphs for me to send. I genuinely believed I was the luckiest girl in the world, surrounded by the two people who loved me most. Until the night before our wedding, when I stumbled upon an anonymous social media account. “I’ve been my best friend’s relationship coach for seven years. But every single word I taught her to say to him was actually what I wanted to tell him myself.” “A secret kept for seven years. In the end, I only ever dared to speak to him through her voice.” The profile picture was a little plush rabbit with one floppy ear—the exact one I had hand-sewn and given to Cassie for her birthday last year. The top comment felt like a blade slicing through me, making my blood run ice-cold. The user’s avatar was a microscope keychain—one I had spent an entire afternoon helping Brian pick out. The username was his childhood nickname. Brian’s reply read: “Silly girl. I’ve always known.” … My limbs went entirely numb, as if the warmth had been vacuumed right out of my bones. The bedroom door clicked open, and Cassie walked right in. She was holding a delicate bridal hairpiece, leaning in to test it against my hair. “Iris, becoming a bride and a mother all at once… other women would kill for this kind of luck.” She tilted her head, admiring her work, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “You have to wear this for your first prenatal checkup tomorrow, and then for the wedding the day after. I stayed up for two nights straight sewing this by hand!” I stared into Cassie’s bright, shining eyes, feeling a sharp, physical pinch in my chest. After a long, heavy silence, I finally forced the words out. “Cassie… have you ever thought about getting married? Finding someone who truly loves you?” Her fingers froze in my hair. She stood still for what felt like an eternity before slowly letting her hand fall to her side. When she looked down, her voice dropped to a whisper. “No. Not for me.” “I’m just going to stay right here and look after you, Iris. When the baby is born, I’ll be her godmother. If it’s a girl, I’ll make her little dresses, braid her hair, and take her out for ice cream.” She forced a carefree laugh, but the rims of her eyes had already flushed a painful red. In that split second, the words from that anonymous post flashed violently in my mind: “I loved him in secret too, all through our three years of high school. But on the day of our college entrance exams, a truck came barreling out of nowhere. My best friend pushed both of us out of the way, nearly dying under the wheels herself. The moment she woke up in the hospital, she confessed her love to him. How could I ever steal him from her after that?” Those sentences wrapped around my throat like a wire, tightening with every breath. The door swung open again. Brian walked in, still wearing his white lab coat. Cassie sprang up instantly, spreading her arms to block him. “Hey! That coat is filthy from the lab. Don’t you dare bring those chemicals near our pregnant Iris!” Brian didn’t even register her mock defense. His eyes were wide, burning with a frantic, euphoric energy, locked entirely on Cassie from the moment he crossed the threshold. “Trial eighteen, Cassie! I finally replicated the results!” “I’ve been chasing this since last summer. Eighteen trials. Seventeen failures in a row, and today we finally did it!” He didn’t use her name, but I knew. Every word, every ounce of excitement, was directed solely at her. Since we started college seven years ago, everyone had called Brian and Cassie the twin stars of the chemistry department. I was just an English major. Whenever Brian tried to explain his research to me, it sounded like a foreign language. Every time he saw my blank, confused expression, he would just smile with a gentle, patronizing sigh and pat my head. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, sweetie. You must be starving. Let’s go get some cake.” Cassie, however, was far more composed. She turned to grab the logbook off the desk. “Did you double-check the reagent concentration? What about the temperature curve? Did you record the raw data?” “I’ll run a quality check tonight. If everything looks solid, I’ll have the first draft of the paper ready for you by the day after tomorrow.” She kept moving, naturally pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to him. Brian slipped out of his lab coat and handed it backward without even looking. Cassie caught it seamlessly, draped it over the chair, and smoothed out the wrinkles in the sleeves. Their coordination was flawless. They didn’t look like colleagues; they looked like a married couple. It was only then that Cassie seemed to remember, tapping her temple with an apologetic gasp. “Oh, goodness, my memory is shot. The day after tomorrow is your wedding.” “Go focus on that. I’ll write the paper and compile the data tonight.” Brian frowned. “The wedding can wait. Iris isn’t going anywhere.” “Let’s get the paper written first while the data is fresh. If we wait a few days, we might lose our train of thought.” Only after saying this did he finally turn his gaze to me. His eyes lingered on me for a fraction of a second, his face softening into a practiced, apologetic smile. “Iris, we’ve been working on this experiment for a year.” “This is a critical window. Could you possibly…” A dull, suffocating ache bloomed in my chest. This was the seventh time Brian had asked to postpone our wedding. The first time, he said his thesis proposal was too demanding. The second time, he needed to replicate a dataset. The third, he was drafting a paper. The most recent time, the guests were already seated. Brian had called, panicking, claiming there was a minor chemical explosion in the lab and he had to rush Cassie to the emergency room. I waited in my wedding dress for seven and a half hours. Brian never showed up. When I finally rushed to the hospital, I found out Cassie had only sustained a tiny scratch from a shattered test tube. “Iris?” Cassie called out, her voice laced with concern at my silence. She turned back to Brian. “Forget it. The wedding comes first. Don’t be so stubborn.” They both stared at me—one pair of eyes filled with guilt, the other with pity. I felt a wire snap inside my chest. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice shockingly level. “Finish the paper.” I barely slept. I lay awake, counting my breaths until the sun rose. The next morning, Brian walked in, carrying a warm glass of milk out of habit. “I was supposed to take you to your prenatal checkup today,” he said softly, “but Cassie is going in to double-check the results. She’s the only one who can spot any anomalies in the data, and I just can’t risk it.” He reached out, his thumb brushing my cheek. “I’m sorry you have to go alone, Iris.” “Just this once. Once this paper is published, I promise I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be by your side every day.” His eyes were full of tender regret. But all I could see was his reply on that anonymous thread: Silly girl, I’ve always known. But she’s pregnant, and I have to take responsibility. A lump of dry cotton seemed to lodge in my throat. “Brian, actually, we…” We don’t have to get married, I wanted to say. But Brian stood up abruptly, as if sensing the words before they could form. “I know what you’re going to say, Iris. Don’t worry. This is the last delay. I promise the next date will stick.” He knelt down to slide my shoes onto my feet. “Be careful out there. Call me if you need anything.” He ushered me into a cab and gave my stomach a gentle, absentminded pat. My mind was in a haze. By the time I snapped out of it, I had walked straight to Brian’s research facility instead of the clinic. On his desk sat a framed photo of him and Cassie holding a trophy from an international chemistry competition. Scattered nearby were two custom insulated mugs—one navy blue, one pastel pink—both engraved with the same molecular structure. From down the hallway, the sound of female grad students laughing and chatting drifted closer. “Today marks day 1,753 of Professor Brian and Dr. Cassie showing up to the lab together!” “I know, right? Five years, arriving and leaving together every single day. They’re more codependent than me and my boyfriend.” The other girl lowered her voice, dripping with excitement. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. The night before last, I walked past his office. They were kissing like their lives depended on it.” “I saw it through the crack in the door. He was holding her by the waist, and she was up on her tiptoes. It made me blush just watching them!” My heart felt as though it had been seized by a frozen hand and dragged into an abyss. The night before last, I had suffered severe cramps from the pregnancy. I had curled into a ball on our bed, calling Brian three times in a panic. He had answered briefly, telling me he was in the middle of a crucial run and that I should just take some over-the-counter medicine and bear with it. The students noticed me. A girl in a lab coat frowned. “Who are you? Which department are you with? Why are you lingering outside Professor Brian’s office?” I opened my mouth, but my throat felt like sandpaper. No sound came out. “Ah, I get it. You’re the volunteer for the clinical study, right?” Before I could correct her, she grabbed my arm and shoved me into the adjacent testing room. “Wait, listen to me,” I rasped. “I’m not a volunteer. I’m Brian’s—” “We’re on a tight schedule,” a lab tech interrupted without looking up from a clipboard. “Go behind the curtain and change into the gown. Strip down completely.” Before I could protest, she aggressively unzipped my jacket and handed me a thin hospital gown, urging me to hurry. The cold drafts of the lab hit my bare skin, making me shiver violently. Just then, chaos erupted in the corridor. “Gas leak! Toxic chemical exposure! Evacuate immediately!” I scrambled to grab my clothes, but before my fingers could touch them, the lab door was thrown open. A pair of hands grabbed my bare arm and hauled me out. The force sent me sprawling onto the cold, hard tiles of the hallway, my knees barking against the floor. It was the same student who had been gossiping about Brian and Cassie. Now wearing a gas mask, she glared down at me. “You’re the only unfamiliar face here. Did you cause this leak? Are you trying to ruin our research?” I was practically naked, shivering in nothing but my underwear. People were sprinting past in a panic. I curled in on myself, desperately crossing my arms over my chest to hide my body, huddling against the wall. “It wasn’t me! I’m Brian’s—” “Shut up!” she snapped, her foot catching me sharply in the thigh. I gasped at the sudden pain. “Who do you think you are, calling Professor Brian by his first name?” I stared at her, my throat tight as if clogged with wet cotton. For seven years, Brian had insisted we keep our relationship quiet, claiming office politics and academic rumors would destroy his career. He had even made me sign a pre-marital confidentiality agreement, promising we would go public once his tenure was secured. Just then, heavy footsteps echoed from the far end of the hall. Brian sprinted around the corner, carrying Cassie in his arms. Her face was deathly pale, her limp body cradled securely against his chest. “Call an ambulance!” Brian screamed, his voice raw. “Take her to St. Jude’s Private Wing!” I froze. St. Jude’s was the most exclusive private medical wing in the city, reserved strictly for elite research staff and high-ranking officials. The day my pregnancy was confirmed, I had timidly asked Brian if I could deliver our baby there. He hadn’t even looked up from his monitor. “I can’t pull strings for that, Iris. It’s a restricted medical facility, not a public clinic for just anyone.” Yet here he was, carrying Cassie, shouting the name of St. Jude’s without a second thought. The sheer terror on his face was something I had never witnessed in our seven years together. Not even when I was throwing up blood from morning sickness, and he had merely patted my head and sighed, “It’s completely normal, Iris. Don’t be dramatic. Just drink some ginger tea.” Now, with Cassie merely looking slightly faint, he looked like his world was ending. Suddenly, Cassie’s eyes closed, her head lulling back. Brian halted in his tracks and gently laid her down on the hallway floor. He looked up, his voice cutting through the panic with absolute authority: “Turn around. All of you.” The surrounding staff instantly spun around, facing the walls. He knelt, unbuttoned Cassie’s collar, and pressed his long, elegant fingers against her chest. Then, he leaned down, pressed his lips to hers, and began performing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I suddenly remembered the first time I had leaned in to kiss him. He had laughed, tilting his head back. “Go brush your teeth first, babe. You know I’m a germaphobe.” Once Cassie’s breathing steadied, Brian finally sat back, chest heaving. It was only then that his eyes swept across the floor and landed on me. “Professor!” the student yelled, pointing directly at me. “This woman was sneaking around. I think we should call security and have her arrested!” A flicker of shock crossed Brian’s eyes. He took a tentative step toward me. But right then, Cassie groaned in pain, her fingers feebly clutching at his sleeve. Brian froze. He looked down at Cassie, then looked back at me, mouthing three silent words: Go on home. He turned to the student. “I know her. Don’t worry about it. Just call her an Uber and send her home.” With that, he scooped Cassie back into his arms, holding her close to his chest, and hurried down the corridor. I remained curled on the freezing tiles, a sharp, rhythmic cramping starting to bloom deep in my lower abdomen. The student stood over me, her expression thick with disgust. “Don’t think you’re special just because the professor knows you. Who are you putting on this show for? Get up!” I gritted my teeth, pushing my trembling hands against the floor to lift myself. My arms buckled, and I collapsed back down with a dull thud. She watched me struggle and fall half a dozen times before finally scowling and taking a step closer. “Seriously, stop playing victim. Everyone’s gone. Who are you acting for?” She squatted down, studying my contorted face with a cold sneer. “To be honest, I’ve seen plenty of girls try this sick-act routine just to get Professor Brian’s attention.” She stood back up, brushing the dust from her hands. “Save your breath. Seven years ago, the professor swore an oath to his mentor that Cassie was the only woman he would ever love. He doesn’t have eyes for anyone else.” Brian’s parents had passed away when he was young, and he had always viewed his mentor as a father. During our years together, I had asked countless times to meet him. Every time, Brian would frown, his voice laced with a cool distance: “You’re not part of our academic circle, Iris. Let’s not make things awkward. You wouldn’t have anything to talk about anyway.” I had foolishly assumed he wanted to keep his personal life separate from work. Now I knew the truth. His heart had been occupied from the very start. The physical pain began to blur with the emotional agony until my vision started to spot with black. The last thing I felt was a sudden, terrifying rush of warmth spreading beneath me. Through the static in my ears, I heard the student’s panicked shriek. “Hey! Don’t play dead! Hey! Wait… blood? She’s bleeding! Oh my God, somebody help!” On the other side of the hospital, Brian stayed by Cassie’s bedside until she woke up. For four full days, I didn’t send him a single text. In seven years, such a silence had been unimaginable. Initially, Brian felt a sense of relief. But the quiet didn’t bring peace; within hours, a slow, gnawing dread began to pool in his chest. The anxiety had actually taken root the moment he stumbled upon Cassie’s post and couldn’t stop himself from replying. Ever since, he had noticed me slipping away, lost in my own thoughts. He just hadn’t known how to face me—or how to handle Cassie. Now, Cassie was awake. Since his reply on the thread, they had tacitly avoided being alone together—until this moment. The room was deathly quiet, save for the rhythmic beep of the monitor. Cassie broke the silence first, her voice raspy, her eyes fixed on the hospital blanket. “Is the… is the wedding still on?” Brian hesitated. After a long pause, he gave a stiff nod, his voice dry. “We should go through with it. After all… it’s been seven years.” But as the words left his mouth, a sudden tremor shook his chest. He had spent years believing his heart belonged to Cassie. He knew the thoughtful gestures, the perfectly timed words of comfort—none of them could have originated from a girl as clumsy and simple as me. Yet, somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love with more than just those borrowed phrases. He suddenly, desperately wanted to see me. “Get some rest. I need to check on Iris,” he said, standing up. He didn’t notice the way Cassie’s face drained of color as he turned and walked out. His pace quickened, driven by an urgency he had never felt before. When he arrived back at the chemistry building, a small group of grad students was huddled at the end of the hall, whispering. “God, it was terrifying. There was so much blood. She started convulsing right there on the floor. Does anyone know if she’s okay?” Another student shook her head. “No idea. Someone said her heart stopped by the time the paramedics loaded her in. She was completely cold. Who even was she? How did the professor know her?” Brian stood frozen around the corner, as if struck by lightning, his body turning to ice.
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