We Both Loved My Best Friend

My husband Declan and I were married for three years. At home, I was the perfect wife who cooked and cared for him. In public, he was the devoted husband who never strayed. To the world, we were the model couple. Then came the night of a private gala. He got drunk and called me to pick him up. I hurried to the suite, but as my hand reached for the door, I heard his friend’s teasing voice float through. “Declan, man, you’re something else. Three years with Victoria and not an ounce of real feeling. Are you sure you never felt even a little spark?” Declan’s reply was slick with careless arrogance. “My heart has only ever belonged to Sophia. Victoria was just a stepping stone to get closer to her.” And Sophia, the woman he spoke of, was my best friend of twelve years. 1 I froze, my fingers hovering over the phone screen, the words “Honey, I’m at the door” still typed out in the message box. All the warmth drained from my body. For three years, everyone said I had married for love. In their eyes, I was a promising fashion designer, and he was the brilliant, self-made tycoon. I had naively believed we were destined for each other. Last year, I had a fever of 102. Drifting in and out of consciousness, I felt someone taking care of me. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw Declan wearing my pink apron, a bowl of oatmeal in his hands. He’d even managed to cook an egg into the shape of a heart on top. “I looked it up online,” he’d said softly. “They said this is good for a fever. I simmered it for half an hour. Want to try?” Lying there in his arms, I thought, This is it. This is my forever. Four years ago, I was a nobody in the design world. Frustrated with a blank sketchpad, I posted a throwaway comment online: “Can anyone save my inspiration? One more creative block and I’m quitting to sell boba tea!” Less than ten minutes later, a private message popped up from a user named “D.” “The waistlines in your designs are too conservative. Try incorporating satin panels and an asymmetrical hem. It might break you out of the rut.” On a whim, I tried his suggestions. That design ended up winning a small award. Our conversations grew from there, weaving from design to life. He understood my passion, and I understood the grueling work he put into his start-up. When he proposed, he said, “Victoria, I want to take care of you for the rest of my life. Marry me.” Through a blur of happy tears, I had shouted, “Yes, Declan, I will.” Looking back now, all that sweetness feels like an elaborate, meticulously crafted lie. 2 I slowly pulled my hand back from the door, my back finding the cold wall of the hallway. Suddenly, a flood of details I had long ignored rushed into my mind. The time Declan asked for Sophia’s contact information, claiming he wanted to get to know my friends and hobbies better. Our first trip abroad, where the destination just so happened to be the city where Sophia was studying. And especially the time Sophia went through a bad breakup. She was sobbing uncontrollably on the phone, and as I sat there, my own tears falling in sympathy, Declan seemed even more agitated than I was. “Is Sophia okay? Should we go see her?” he kept asking. He even got her address and overnighted a huge care package of her favorite snacks across the ocean. At the time, I’d laughed and called him the perfect husband, saying he loved my friends just because he loved me. Now I understand. I wasn't the one he loved. I was just the convenient package deal. My thoughts were shattered by a vibration from my pocket. A message from Sophia lit up the screen. “Tori, I’m coming home next week! Don’t forget to pick me up at the airport! ;)” I stared at the screen, my thumb hesitating for a moment before I typed back a simple reply. “Okay.” The moment the message sent, I deleted my entire chat history with Declan. Then I turned and walked away from the hotel without a backward glance. The sharp click of my heels on the polished floor was the only sound, each step shattering the illusion of a three-year fairy tale. 3 We never spoke of that night. It was an unspoken, mutual silence. The day Sophia returned, the weather was beautiful. As I was getting ready to drive to the airport, Declan offered to come with me. “The airport is a bit of a drive. I’d worry if you went alone. I’ll drive us,” he said, his tone perfectly normal, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. “Alright.” If I hadn’t known what I knew, I probably would have thought the same. A simple, kind gesture. The car was silent, the only sound our breathing. From the corner of my eye, I studied Declan. He was in a remarkably good mood, so much so that he didn't seem to notice the oppressive quiet in the car. He drove quickly, fueled by an excitement he couldn't hide, and we arrived at the airport in no time. Sophia was there, pushing a luggage cart, as radiant and bold as ever. She saw us and waved with a brilliant smile. “Over here!” Declan was at her side in a few long strides, handing her a bottle of her favorite brand of mineral water. He then effortlessly took her luggage cart, his voice filled with a light, easy familiarity I hadn’t heard from him in ages. “Welcome back, Sophia. Victoria has been talking about you non-stop. Was the flight okay? Have you found a place to stay yet?” Sophia tossed her long hair, her eyes flicking over to me for a second before landing back on Declan. She smiled, her voice a lazy drawl. “I’ve missed you guys too! I’m not too tired, just a little dizzy from the landing. I was in such a rush to get back, I haven’t found a place yet. I might have to crash with you two for a couple of days.” “You won’t have to crash,” Declan said instantly. “Victoria and I have a condo downtown. You can stay there. The furniture is all brand new. It’ll save you the trouble of looking.” That condo. We had bought it for our future child. A place we had planned and dreamed about together. And now, he had forgotten that promise completely. I forced a smile. “Of course.” 4 For dinner, we went to Sophia’s favorite sushi restaurant. On the way there, Declan and Sophia chatted nonstop. “So, life abroad treated you well?” Declan’s voice, full of undisguised cheer, drifted into the back seat. Sophia laughed and told him all about her experiences, the conversation flowing from life overseas to the changes back home. They were so engrossed in each other they seemed to forget I was there at all. I was the third wheel at my own best friend’s welcome home dinner. As we entered the restaurant, Declan took the menu and his first words were, “Sophia, you always loved the miso-glazed cod here. Should we get it?” She nodded, then turned to me. “Tori, what do you want?” Before I could answer, Declan cut in. “She’s easy. She’ll eat anything.” I sat beside him, feeling like a decorative accessory. When the food arrived, he served Sophia first, even pouring her a small glass of sake. They moved together with the easy grace of a long-established couple. My chopsticks barely moved. The steam rising from my miso soup blurred my vision, or maybe it was something else. As the meal wound down, Declan glanced at his phone, as if suddenly remembering my presence. “Victoria, why don’t you grab a cab home? Sophia has a lot of luggage, and I wouldn't want you to strain yourself. We’re a team anyway, so me helping is the same as you helping.” I didn’t argue. I just nodded. “That’s fine. I’m finished anyway, and I have some work to do at the studio.” I picked up my bag and stood. At the door, some strange impulse made me look back. The warm, yellow light of the restaurant fell on Declan’s profile. He was looking down, carefully peeling a shrimp for Sophia, a gentle smile playing on his lips. It had been so long since I had seen him look that tender. 5 After that, the nights Declan didn’t come home grew more frequent. At first, he made an effort with his excuses. “A big project at the office is on a tight deadline, I have to work late.” Or, “A client changed their schedule last minute, I have to go out of town for a couple of days.” I’d see the exhaustion in his eyes when he finally came home in the dead of night, and for a fleeting moment, I’d almost believe him. But then he would take off his suit jacket, and a foreign perfume would hit me. A sweet, fruity floral scent. Identical to the one Sophia always wore. All my self-doubt would shatter. My fingers would trace over a long strand of hair on his collar that wasn’t mine. He’d notice my gaze and hastily toss the jacket into the laundry basket. “Must have been from a meeting,” he’d say, his tone a little too casual. “One of the female colleagues.” He told that lie again and again. And I never called him on it. I just quietly washed his jacket separately from mine. 6 A week later, I was at my studio working on a new design when my assistant ran in, holding out her phone with a complicated expression. The photo was crystal clear. In the dim, moody lighting of a bar, Declan was seated in a booth. Sophia was leaning against his shoulder, their cocktail glasses clinking together. The look he was giving her was so tender you could drown in it. The headline was a knife to the gut. 【VANCE ENTERPRISES CEO ON DATE WITH MYSTERY WOMAN, INTIMATE BEHAVIOR SUGGESTS NEW ROMANCE.】 The comments section was a war zone. 【That is definitely NOT Mrs. Vance.】 【Is she his mistress?】 【No, you guys are wrong. Look at the way he’s looking at her. That’s true love.】 My hand holding the phone trembled, my fingertips ice cold. I forced back the tears and handed the phone back to my assistant, my voice carefully steady, though the slight tremor at the end gave me away. “It’s probably photoshopped. It’s fake. Don’t worry about it.” I waited for Declan to call, to explain, even to lie like he used to. But the call never came. He didn’t post a single denial on social media. He acted like a complete bystander, letting the rumors fester, letting the world speculate about the state of our marriage. The night outside my window grew darker. I stared at that blinding photo on my phone and suddenly felt an immense, crushing exhaustion. 7 Sophia’s welcome-home party was on a Saturday night. She delivered the invitation to my studio herself, asking both me and Declan to come. That evening, I chose a simple, elegant cream-colored dress. I wore no makeup, just a touch of pale lipstick. As I walked to the foyer, Declan emerged from the closet. I paused. He was wearing the custom-tailored suit I had given him for his birthday last year. It fit him perfectly. His hair was impeccably styled, and he was even wearing the platinum cufflinks I had recently bought him. As far as I could remember, he only dressed this carefully for major corporate events. And tonight was just my best friend’s party. “Have you been waiting long?” he asked, stepping toward me. He reached out to adjust my collar, and I instinctively took a step back. His hand froze in mid-air, a flicker of awkwardness in his eyes. “Let’s go. We shouldn’t keep Sophia waiting.” The party was in full swing. Sophia was the center of attention in a stunning red slip dress, a blooming rose in a sea of people. The moment Declan walked in, his eyes were glued to her. She spotted us and gracefully made her way over. “Victoria! You’re here! I saved you guys seats!” We sat down next to her. Declan pulled a small, crimson velvet box from his pocket and handed it to her. “Welcome home, Sophia,” he said, his voice a full octave gentler than usual. “This is from both of us.” Sophia’s eyes widened. She lifted a hand to her mouth as she opened the box. Inside, a necklace set with a magnificent pigeon-blood ruby glittered under the lights. It was the diamond necklace I had fallen in love with when Declan and I were window shopping last month. The price tag, a staggering six figures, had made me hesitate. “It’s too much,” Declan had said at the time. “I’ll get it for you at the end of the year as a gift.” I thought he was being sensible, considerate. And now, he had bought it for Sophia. He watched her awestruck expression, his voice thick with an undisguised affection. “I knew you liked it. I saw you staring at it in the window for a full thirty seconds that day, so I made a mental note.” The people around them started to buzz. “Mr. Vance, you’re so thoughtful!” “That necklace must be worth a fortune!” Someone who knew of my marriage to Declan laughed and teased, “Honestly, the two of you standing together… anyone who didn’t know better would think you were the married couple!” Declan didn’t deny it. He just smiled down at Sophia, his eyes full of adoration. She leaned closer to him, and a little of her wine sloshed onto her dress. “Oops, I think I’ve had a little too much,” she said with a playful pout. Declan immediately put a steadying hand on her waist, completely ignoring me. “Be careful. You shouldn’t drink anymore. Let me take you to the lounge so you can rest.” He guided her away, and as they passed me, he didn’t even spare me a glance. I watched their retreating backs and downed my entire glass of champagne in one gulp.