one
The Best Friend
I know what's in the envelope the moment I pull it from the mailbox.
It's a silvery-gray card stock and heavy in hand like the rock that's settled in my gut. The top flap showcases their initials entwined in perfect calligraphy. The wax stamp is a glittering green – symbolizing the exorbitant amount of money that was wasted on this cruel fucking joke.
Tentatively, I slide my index finger under the flap. It gently separates from the rest. The pad of my finger glides slowly – thoughtfully – against the edge, until it catches. Gasping, I pull my finger away and stick it immediately into my mouth.
Fitting, it would give me a papercut.
I put the envelope back amongst the others and, with a deep sigh, head back into the house. "Got the mail," I tell mom as I pass her in the hall. She smiles, taking the bundle from my hands. My answering smile is forced.
I watch her as she sifts through the mail at the hall table, sorting the envelopes into neat little piles. Bills, letters, spam – her hand pauses on the gray card stock.
"Did you see this?" She asks, flipping the envelope around before tearing through the back. When I don't answer, she turns to me with a smile. "The invite is for three."
I shrug, looking at the framed family portrait that's hanging just beyond her left shoulder. My smile was so big then – genuine. I want it back.
"That was nice of them to invite your father and I, too." Mom continues, carrying the invitation through the archway that leads into the kitchen. I trail her, feeling queasy. "We'll definitely be going." She doesn't hesitate to hang the invite on the fridge with a magnet.
Eyes on fire, I swallow acid. That card doesn't belong on our fridge – it belongs in the trash. I'm so fucking glad I moved out years ago so I don't have to look at it every time I'm in the kitchen.
Mom doesn't know, though, so I push it down and peel my lips back in a smile. "When is it?" Her head tilts at me questioningly so I clarify. "The wedding."
"Oh, you don't know already?" Mom tilts her head curiously at me before continuing. "It's in March at the country club – how adorable. Isn't that where they met?"
I nod in confirmation while the already shattered pieces of my heart splinter. How could I forget that they met at the country club? I was there – and he was mine then. He's always been mine, until she showed up.
"Will you RSVP for the three of us?" Mom nods, smiling as she ducks out of the kitchen.
If she expects me to just watch as she marries him in the same place that she stole him from me, she's mistaken. I was stupidly passive when she first showed up in his life. He's had plenty of relationships since we ended our little affair two years ago – none of them stuck. Not like me. Why would she be the exception? He's been with models. A sweet little daddy's girl with a face full of freckles and wrists lined with tennis bracelets wouldn't even be a blip on his radar.
I assumed wrong.
A month into their relationship, he proposed. And she said yes, of course. And I – being the good friend that I am – laid down and took it, even though my heart was breaking. But now, I'm done. I will lay down no more. If they want me at their wedding, I'll go. But I'm going with a fucking plan.
He's mine – he's always been mine. I've known him my entire life. She's known him for two fucking minutes. I know what he likes, dislikes. I know how he takes his coffee in the morning – cinnamon bun flavored creamer with a heaping spoonful of sugar (or two). I know what all of his facial expressions mean. I know that he still uses bunny ears when he ties his shoes. I know that he prefers clip on ties. I know the dimples in his cheeks and the wrinkles on his nose when he smiles.
It's time to stop a wedding and take back what is rightfully mine.
Hi everyone: hope you enjoyed the first chapter! This is the first fic I've published on here, so feedback is encouraged and appreciated. This fic is almost fully written, so I will be updating twice a week regularly (M/Th).
Thanks for reading!
xo
