Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English
Synopsis
My best friend Hailey was always broke. Every time I went out to eat, I dragged her along so she wouldn't have to scrape by on instant ramen at home.
On this date, I brought her again.
My boyfriend, Ethan, was visibly annoyed:
"How many times do I have to tell you? Stay away from people like her."
"She's not broke; she's just a cheapskate looking for a sucker to foot the bill. She conveniently vanishes the second the check drops."
I couldn't stand hearing him talk about her like that, so I defended her: "Her family struggles. Can't you just be a little generous?"
He pinched my cheek and smiled. "Fine, fine. I'll pay from now on. Just remember how good I am to you."
Sure enough, Ethan stopped complaining after that.
I honestly thought the tension between them had finally thawed, and it made me happy for days.
On Friday, I invited them both over to my apartment for dinner.
After working late, I rushed home, only to see Hailey sitting right in my favorite spot.
Ethan was standing right behind her, his chin resting against the top of her head. Both of them were giggling uncontrollably.
My keys hit the hardwood floor with a sharp clang.
The laughter in the living room died instantly.
Hailey slowly sat up from my favorite cushion, her shoulder-length chestnut hair slipping forward to veil half her face.
She didn't rush to stand up. She just tilted her head to look at me, a lingering trace of an unfinished smirk still on her lips.
Ethan's hand lifted from her head, hesitated in mid-air for a beat, and then slid smoothly into his pocket.
"You worked so late,"
Hailey spoke first, her voice soft and sweet.
"We've been waiting for you forever. Ethan bought that takeout from your favorite bistro, but it's already getting cold."
She spoke like she was trying to smooth things over for me—like she was the mistress of this home, and I was just a tardy guest.
I bent down to pick up my keys, my knuckles white.
The warm ambient light filled the room. The food was laid out on the table, three sets of plates, three drinks.
The only disruption was that my usual south-facing window seat was taken by Hailey's canvas tote and a half-finished Coke.
Ethan walked around the sectional toward me, reaching out to take my bag:
"Exhausted? Did the project finally wrap up today?"
I shifted slightly, leaving his hand grasping at thin air.
He pulled his hand back awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. "What's wrong? Why the grim face?"
I stared at him. "Where do I sit?"
"Huh?"
He froze, followed my gaze to the dining table, caught on, and let out a forced chuckle.
"Come on, Chloe. What's the big deal if Hailey sits in your chair? Her legs fell numb waiting for you, so she just leaned back there to get comfortable."
"Her legs went numb, so she had to lean into your chest?"
The air in the room froze solid.
Hailey finally rose from the sofa, wringing her fingers as she walked up to me, her big eyes blinking rapidly, tears threatening to spill.
"Chloe, please don't get the wrong idea. Ethan was just helping me see... seeing if there was something stuck to my back. I couldn't reach it. You know I'm petite, and the light over here was so nice. I was just sitting here knitting a scarf while waiting for you."
She opened her palm. There was indeed a small ball of light grey yarn and two knitting needles, holding a few crooked starting stitches.
Ethan chimed in right on cue:
"Exactly. She randomly decided she wanted to knit you a scarf. I just stepped over to make sure she didn't poke her own eye out."
I let out a dry smile, tossed my bag onto the entryway console, and walked in.
As I brushed past Hailey, her shoulders visibly flinched.
"The scarf looks nice," I said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. I took a bite of the salmon.
"It's cold. Ethan, didn't you say you asked for an insulated thermal bag?"
Ethan's expression flickered before he recovered his casual tone:
"Oh, I forgot to grab it. I was in a rush on the drive over."
Hailey spun around toward the kitchen. "I'll pop it in the microwave."
Her silhouette as she slipped into the kitchen was slender, swallowed by an oversized knit sweater that exposed her delicate wrists.
It was a charcoal grey knit sweater, embroidered with a small letter E on the collar.
I recognized it instantly. It was the birthday gift I bought for Ethan last week—cost me three hundred dollars. He claimed the color made him look old and never touched it once.
I turned to Ethan. "What time did she get here?"
"Around four, I think? Didn't you tell her to come early to help cook?"
Ethan pulled out the chair across from me and sat down, completely nonchalant. "She was buzzing around the kitchen the whole time, washing veggies, cutting fruit. She looked exhausted, so I told her to take a break."
"And she took that break right in my seat?"Ethan looked up at me, a flash of annoyance crossing his eyes, though he swallowed it down.
"Chloe, why are you being so petty today?
Hailey is your best friend. Haven't you always told me to look out for her? I'm just being nice to your friend for your sake."
"Being nice to her for my sake, or being nice enough to wrap her in your arms?"
Ethan slammed his fork down onto the porcelain plate with a sharp crack.
"Chloe, can you be reasonable for once? We've been together for three years. Is that really how you see me?"
Hearing the commotion, Hailey scurried out of the kitchen.
She was clutching a dish towel, her eyes rimmed with red.
"Chloe, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! It's all my fault. I shouldn't have sat in your chair, and I shouldn't have asked Ethan to help... Please don't fight because of me. You guys belong together. I'll leave right now, and I won't ever come back."
Her voice trembled when she said she wouldn't come back.
I leaned back against my chair, tilting my head at her. "Never coming back? Works for me. Pack your stuff and leave right now."
Hailey froze. A single tear hung suspended on her lower lash.
Ethan shot to his feet. "Chloe, you've gone too far! Hailey did nothing wrong! You're just paranoid and creating drama out of thin air!"
I picked up my glass, took a sip of water, and set it down.
I stood up. "Fine, I went too far. Enjoy dinner, you two. I'm going to bed."
Ethan rushed over and grabbed my arm. "What's that supposed to mean? You're not eating?"
I shook off his grip. "It's cold."
I walked into the bedroom, shut the door, and slid down against the wood.
Through the door came Hailey's muffled sobs and Ethan's hushed, soothing voice.
I couldn't make out every word, but his tone was tender, feather-light, like he was comforting a fragile child who had suffered the ultimate injustice.
He had never once spoken to me in that tone. Not once.
I closed my eyes, pulled my phone from my pocket, and opened my photo album, scrolling back to our company retreat two weeks ago.
The retreat had been held at a mountain lodge. I had stayed behind to finish a project, so Hailey claimed she had nothing going on that weekend and took my spot.
In the photo, she wore a white lodge bathrobe, sitting side by side with Ethan on the edge of the heated outdoor pool, dipping her bare legs in the water, shoulders pressed tight against his.
Ethan's hand rested on the stone ledge right behind her back, his fingertips practically brushing her wet hair.
A coworker, Zach, had shared it in the group chat. I had only glanced at it back then. Now, zooming in, I could clearly see the angle of Ethan's face, the way his eyes lingered on her skin.
I knew that gaze all too well. Three years ago, when he was chasing me, that was the exact look he gave me.
Outside, it went quiet.
I heard the deadbolt click open and shut. Hailey had left.
Then came Ethan's footsteps stopping right outside my bedroom door. The handle jiggled. Locked.
"Chloe," he knocked gently, softening his voice. "Open the door. Let me explain."
I didn't move.
"Chloe, please don't be like this. There's really nothing between me and Hailey. She's just young and naive, she doesn't know any better. Why let her get to you?"
I stood up, walked to the door, and spoke through the wood. "Young and naive enough to wear your three-hundred-dollar designer sweater?"
Dead silence on the other side. A full five seconds.
"The sweater you bought? I... I just saw that she dressed way too light today, and the forecast said temperatures were dropping, so I—"
"So you just threw your birthday gift onto another woman?
Ethan, I spent two hours picking that sweater out. You called it old and ugly and never touched it once, and now you hand it over to her."
The door handle rattled twice. Panic crept into his voice:
"Chloe, just open the door, okay? Let's talk face to face."
"There's nothing to talk about. Sleep on the couch tonight."
Silence stretched outside. Finally, a muffled "Fine," followed by fading footsteps.I dragged myself over to the edge of the bed and picked up my phone.
Hailey's Instagram had just updated. A blurry night shot of a streetlamp with a two-word caption: "So cold."
No location tagged. But I clearly recognized the 24-hour convenience store sign glowing right next to the lamp—it was right at the corner of my apartment complex's east gate.
She hadn't even left.
A comment from a mutual friend popped up: "Where are you this late? Go home if it's freezing!"
She replied with a crying emoji, saying she had no home to go back to.
My stomach churned. I flipped my phone facedown.
I lay awake until three in the morning.
One thought spun relentlessly through my head.
Was Hailey really that broke?
After graduating from college, she had bounced through four jobs, none lasting more than six months. Her excuses were endless: her manager was toxic, the commute was too long, the pay was beneath her degree.
She rented a run-down studio downtown, but I had paid six months of her rent upfront.
When she got sick and was hospitalized, I stayed by her side for three days and three nights, covering the bill with my credit card.
On her birthday, I gave her designer bags. In return, she gave me a bar of handmade soap.
I had never held it against her, because she was my best friend. From middle school until now, twelve whole years.
Twelve years.
When she was giggling in Ethan's arms, did she think of me even once?
Early the next morning, I opened the door. Ethan was curled up on the sofa, his blanket halfway on the floor, one shoulder bare.
Hearing the sound, he woke up instantly, blinking groggily as he sat up: "Chloe..."
"I'm going to work." I started slipping into my shoes.
"I'll drive you."
"No need."
He shuffled over to the entryway, his hair a bird's nest, his shirt a crumpled mess:
"Chloe, I was wrong, okay? I'll get the sweater back from her. I'll keep my distance from now on. Just don't be mad."
My fingers paused as I tied my laces. "You're getting it back?"
"Yeah. I'll go pick it up today."
"Ethan," I straightened up and looked him dead in the eye.
"I gave that sweater to her. You draped it over her right in front of me yesterday. You think it's appropriate to go ask for it back now?"
His lips parted, but no words came out.
I didn't spare him another glance. I grabbed my purse and slammed the door behind me.
The drop of the elevator made my stomach flip, but my mind had never been clearer.
Once at the office, I couldn't focus on work. I pulled up my chat history with Hailey.
Our last message was from yesterday when I invited her over for dinner.
Since she loved my life so much, I was going to let her experience the full cost of it.
I opened my banking app.
Setting aside the small daily expenses on food and drinks, there was the six months of rent I covered, the fifteen hundred dollars she borrowed for her cousin's wedding last month, and countless random emergency loans. All told, it added up to over twelve thousand dollars.
I used to think talking about money ruined friendships. Now I realized avoiding it almost ruined my life.
I took screenshots of every single transfer, saved them, and emailed a full backup to myself.
Right in the middle of it, our receptionist ran over:
"Chloe, there's a girl outside asking for you. She says she's your best friend. She's sobbing her eyes out, and people are starting to stare."
Chapters (3)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Watch & Promotions
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