My Love Was Her ATM

Amelia always had himher guy best friend, the one she constantly bragged about, the gold standard against which all other men fell short.
Then, the fire came.
Her parents were gone, consumed by the flames, her legs were broken, and her life was a ruin. And her best friend? He vanished. Just like that. Four years of total silence.
It was me who stayed. Me who guarded her, night and day, for what felt like an eternity.
The day she finally stood on her ownreally stoodwe had a small celebration with her closest friends.
"Amelia, darling, if it wasn't for Devin's devotion these past four years, you wouldn't be this far along," one of them said, raising a glass.
"Exactly! Devin is a catch, any girl would want him, but he put his entire life on hold, the most valuable four years of his twenties, just to care for you. Its movie-worthy dedication."
"When are you two setting the date? The engagement is basically a done deal, right? You have to invite us to the wedding!"
The celebratory mood didn't just chill; it solidified.
Amelia was silent for a long, agonizing moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was a strained, difficult whisper.
"Devin... he's amazing, yes. But... Jasper is back."
1
I was standing right outside the door. The gift boxa small velvet caseslipped from my hand and hit the hardwood floor with a soft, sickening thud. I felt the sharp, immediate physical reaction of panic. I wasn't just stunned; I was drowning. My lungs seized up. I couldn't breathe.
Inside, Sasha's voiceAmelias most outspoken friendexploded, laced with a furious disbelief.
"Amelia! You cannot be serious! You're talking about Jasper, aren't you?"
Another friend shouted, "Are you crazy?!"
"When that fire took everythingyour parents, your mobility, your entire futureJasper didn't even call. He never showed up! It was Devin who worked himself to the bone, day in and day out, asking for nothing. He was your nurse, your chef, your anchor!"
"Now that you can walk again, don't you have a responsibility to marry Devin?"
As the accusations rained down, I heard Amelia start to cry, her voice barely audible, pleading.
"Please, stop. I'm so confused. I don't know what to do."
She sounded genuinely distraught, utterly wronged. But that sound, that fragile, victimized sob, felt like a giant, cold hand gripping my heart and squeezing.
She said she was confused, didn't know what to do. But in reality, wasn't that the answer itself? Her refusal to choose was the choice she was making.
Even her friends were appalled. "Amelia, what's confusing? One man betrayed you; the other gave you his soul! Is that a tough decision?"
"Look at Devin! The rest of us were dating, traveling, and living our twenties! He spent his most vital years caring for a paralyzed, broke friend who needed constant care, and he never complained! And you're the one who feels put out?"
Her cries intensified. "Stop saying that!"
"Yes, I admit Devin did more for me than anyone else." Her voice was high-pitched, defensive. "But just because he took care of me, does that mean I have to marry him?"
"I'm a person, not property. I have my own mind, my own considerations!"
"Stop morally blackmailing me, okay?"
The use of the words "morally blackmailing" silenced them all instantly.
And for me, standing outside, it was the first moment I could draw a real breath. I exhaled slowly, letting the oxygen trickle back into my starving lungs. I picked up the fallen box, adjusted the fake, dependable smile on my face, and pushed the door open.
I walked straight to Amelia. "Amy? What's wrong? Why the tears?"
She quickly wiped her eyes, pulling herself together, the performance instantly kicking in. That soft, familiar tenderness she reserved only for me returned.
"I'm fine, Devin. Don't worry, my love. I'm just... overcome with happiness that I can walk again."
2
It was a perfect, crushing lie.
I saw right through it, but I didn't call her out. I offered a gentle, worthless consolation. "Take it slow. You'll get used to it."
"Mmm." She looked at me with gratitude, then, tentatively, asked, "When did you get here?"
"Just now." I kept my voice casual, injecting a touch of manufactured guilt. "What's wrong? Did you think I was late? I had an emergency at work. I'm sorry."
A wave of reliefnot disappointmentwashed over her face. "It's okay. Your work is important."
I handed her the gift box. "This is for you."
She opened it eagerly. When her friends saw the stunning, expensive emerald necklace inside, there were gasps of envy.
But Amelia just frowned, clearly disappointed. "This stuff again? It's always emeralds, or diamonds, or gold. Can't you ever get me something original?"
At that precise, terrible moment, the door opened again.
Jasper stood in the entryway, a massive bouquet of roses in his hands.
The atmosphere in the room changed again, this time from quiet tension to outright hostility. Everyone in that room remembered his desertion. To them, he was a self-serving, cynical coward.
Sasha, never one to hold back, glared at him. "What are you doing here?"
Jasper flushed, visibly awkward. He forced a thin, weak smile. "I heard Amelia recovered. I came to congratulate her."
Sasha was furious, pointing a finger at him. "Amelia has Devin! She doesn't need your fake sincerity! You're not welcome. Get out!"
Jasper's face turned beet red. He looked ready to turn and flee.
But Amelia caught his hand. "Since you're here, Jasper, why don't you stay for dinner?"
Every single person in the room turned to look at me.
I maintained the same easy, unwavering smile, but my fingernails were digging into my palm so hard I could feel blood collecting beneath the skin.
It was true. My countless days and nights of sacrifice over four years couldn't compete with her white-hot, idealized first love.
Jasper, bolstered by her intervention, presented the flowers. "Congratulations on your recovery, Amy. I heard the news and came immediately."
Amelia reached out to take them.
Sasha, reacting on instinct, slapped the bouquet from his hands. The roses scattered all over the floor. "Stop with the phony kindness! If you meant that, where were you for the past four years? You didn't visit once!"
Jasper looked down, his composure cracking. "You all misunderstand me. I didn't want to stay away. My parents forced me to study abroad."
Sasha immediately shot back. "Study abroad? That's the best, most self-serving excuse you could come up with? Even if that were true, in four years, you never came back for a holiday? There are no winter or summer breaks in Europe?"
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Then, Amelia knelt down, collecting the scattered roses from the floor, holding the fragile, ruined flowers carefully in her hands. "Everyone, please stop. Jasper must have had his reasons."
Sasha stared at Amelia in pure disbelief.
But I saw it clearly. In that moment, Amelia only had eyes for him. She whispered, "Thank you for coming, Jasper. I love the flowers."
I felt a gaping wound open in the deepest part of my chest. I had spent a fortune and hours designing a custom piece of jewelry, engraving it with a private blessing. To her, it was common, boring. Jasper had bought a cheap bouquet from a corner store, and she held it like it was the most precious thing in the world.
Suddenly, I felt exhausted. The room was too small, too loud, too real.
I turned, walking out as everyone watched me go.
"Devin! Where are you going?" Sasha called after me.
I didn't answer. Deep down, I was waiting for one voice, her voice, to call me back. But she didn't say a word, not even after Id closed the door behind me.

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