A Solitary Play Of Unrequited Love

My best friend and I were the two extremes of our social circle.

Greg had run away from seven weddings in three years, earning a reputation as the ultimate commitment-phobe. He swore hed stay a bachelor until the day he died.

On the other hand, my girlfriend and I had been together for eight years, a steady, unbreakable marathon of love. To everyone we knew, I was the most reliable groom-to-be in the world.

Until tonight, when Greg broke down, his eyes bloodshot and tears streaming down his face.

"I think Im losing my mind... I actually want to get married. When I'm with her, I've never felt so happy."

I smiled, squeezing his shoulder in genuine support. "Then marry her. I'm with you all the way, man."

Greg nodded vigorously, pulling out his phone to call the woman who had finally stolen his elusive heart.

Across the line, a familiar, gentle voice spoke, warm and smooth.

"Silly. Look up. I knew youd get drunk, so Ive been watching you from the front table the entire time."

A sudden warmth touched my chest. I instinctively turned with Greg to look toward the front table.

And there she was.

Evelyn. My girlfriend of eight years, the woman I was planning to marry.

It turned out the legendary commitment-phobe had secretly found his harbor long ago.

And our supposedly solid relationship was nothing more than my own pathetic, one-sided play.

My glass slammed onto the table, shattering the illusion. Yet Evelyns face remained entirely blank, devoid of guilt. She gently helped Greg to his feet and whispered, "Let's go home. I can explain."

Eight years. Part of me screamed to slap her, to rage and shout. But this was eight years, a full quarter of my life. How could I just throw it away like garbage?

With bloodshot eyes, I quietly followed them into the car.

The moment Evelyn helped Greg into the passenger seat, his phones Bluetooth automatically synced to the dashboard.

An automated voice chimed: [Gregs Hubby Phone connected. Prepare for a wave of love songs. Are you ready, Ms. Evelyn?]

Gregs voice blared over the speakers in a dizzying hum. I sat in the back, dazed. This was my very first time riding in Evelyns car.

Whenever I had asked to drive it, she always claimed she needed the car to transport high-profile clients, saying a man's sweat would ruin the pristine interior. Even when I promised I was clean, she would only offer a patronizing smile.

"Come on, sweetie, let's not argue."

But right now, the cabin was thick with the scent of Gregs absinthe, heavy and mixed with the unmistakable smell of sweat. Evelyn didn't even blink.

The tears finally spilled over, scalding my skin and burning deep into my chest.

Even so, I couldn't bring myself to scream at her. I was terrified of the finality of it. I wanted to run, to pretend tonight was nothing but a nightmare.

But dreams eventually end.

Greg mumbled, "Evelyn..."

As Evelyn leaned over to buckle his seatbelt, Greg pulled her in for a sloppy, wet kiss. Evelyn merely patted his hand away with a soft chuckle. "Behave."

My heart fractured piece by piece. The pain finally pierced my soul, tearing me apart.

Evelyn had a severe germophobia. If I so much as touched her hand without using sanitizer first, she would immediately flinch away. Yet here she was, letting a drunk, sweaty man kiss her without a hint of disgust.

I looked down at my own hands. I could still smell the chemical scent of hand sanitizer on my skin, mixing with the heavy alcohol fumes in the car, making me physically sick.

I rolled down the window to breathe, but Evelyn immediately rolled it back up, throwing me a disapproving look.

"Greg is drunk and sweating. Hell catch a cold if the wind hits him."

A bitter laugh escaped my throat. "So you do know how to care for someone."

Evelyn frowned. "Drop the sarcasm. I told you, I will explain everything."

As she drove, Greg suddenly lunged across the console, grabbing her to kiss her again. Just then, a car in the adjacent lane tried to overtake them. With her vision blocked, Evelyn swerved violently. The rear of the car slammed hard into the overtaking vehicle.

The impact threw me violently against the side panel. Glass shattered, and my head slammed against the steel frame. Warm blood instantly began trickling down my face.

Yet, compared to the physical blow, the pain in my chest was blinding.

I realized right then that I didn't need her explanation anymore.

I didn't need anything from her ever again.

The other driver got out, screaming curses, but Greg remained dazed, clutching Evelyn's arm. Evelyn frowned, gently pulling her arm free, and glanced back at me.

"Can you walk?" she asked.

I stared at her, blood dripping from my forehead.

"Take Greg to the hospital," she said, stepping out of the car. "Make sure you look after him."

I looked at my blood-soaked reflection in the window and let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Evelyn, are you blind?"

"Look at me. How can you say that with a straight face?"

Evelyn stared at me, startled. I was always quiet, introverted, and soft-spoken. This was the first time I had ever raised my voice at her.

She glared back at me, her voice cold. "This is a life-or-death situation. Stop throwing tantrums."

She slammed the door shut. I dragged myself out of the backseat, opened the front passenger door, and helped Greg out, desperately waving down a taxi on the side of the road.

But the moment we slid into the backseat of the cab, before I could even catch my breath, Gregs voice cut through the silence, sharp and entirely sober.

"You saw it yourself, Gavin. Are you ready to back off now?"

I whipped my head around. The drunken haze was completely gone from his eyes. Under the passing streetlights, his expression was cool and calculating.

"You were faking it?" I whispered.

Greg sighed, looking at me. "Yeah."

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

He shook his head, looking at me as if I were a child. "Gavin, don't be naive. I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Evelyn is young, successful, gorgeous, and incredibly loyal. Who wouldn't want her?"

"The fact that youve been with her for eight years and still haven't walked down the aisle only proves one thing: she doesn't love you."

The driver pulled over. "We're here, guys."

I opened the door, but my knees buckled, and I nearly collapsed onto the pavement.

I stared at Gregs smug, self-satisfied face. "You're wrong, Greg."

"She isn't loyal."

"If she could throw away eight years with me for you, shell throw you away the moment someone else comes along."

Greg smirked, a cruel, mocking laugh escaping him. "You really are an idiot, Gavin. She's pregnant. She's not going anywhere."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Rage surged through my veins, hot and blinding. The mere thought of having touched him made my stomach churn with disgust.

My hand moved faster than my brain, delivering a stinging slap across Greg's face. "You disgusting bastard!"

But a second later, the screech of tires echoed behind us. Evelyns car pulled up to the curb.

She sprinted out, throwing herself between us, pushing me away as she checked Greg's swollen cheek with sheer panic.

When she looked up at me, her eyes burned with a viciousness I recognized instantly.

It wasn't the look of a girlfriend of eight years; it was the ruthless gaze she reserved for her worst corporate rivals.

She pointed directly at the security camera above the hospital entrance. "Apologize! Right now, or Im calling the cops. You know I can have you locked up for a few days."

I let out a hollow laugh. "Go ahead. Lock me up. Maybe I can finally get some peace."

Evelyn sneered. "And what about your mother?"

"Lest you forget, Im the one paying for her care facility. If she finds out her son is in a jail cell..."

My heart stopped. I stared at her, seeing only cold, calculating leverage in her eyes.

A suffocating wave of humiliation washed over me. I bit my tongue so hard the taste of copper filled my mouth, fighting back the sob rising in my throat.

My knuckles turned white as I clenched my fists. "I'm sorry."

"Slap yourself ten times," Evelyn ordered coldly.

I stared at her, unable to believe what I was hearing. She looked back at me, detached. "An eye for an eye, Gavin. It's only fair."

I raised my hand. When the first blow struck my cheek, my numb heart shuddered. Watching the two of them standing side by side, I finally accepted the truth: I was out.

By the tenth slap, my face was entirely numb, the pain dull and familiar. A vast, empty despair swallowed me whole, leaving me like a broken boat adrift in a dark ocean.

"Are we done?" my voice was barely a whisper.

Evelyn nodded once. I turned and walked toward the hospital entrance, tears spilling down my face. I tried to wipe them away, telling myself over and over.

Don't cry. Don't let them see you like this.

But a darker voice answered back.

You're already a joke, Gavin. You've been one all along.

Yes, a pathetic joke, betrayed by the two people I trusted most in the world. But was I really going to just let them walk away into the sunset? Was I going to let them step on me forever? Was I going to let Evelyn hold my mother over my head like a leash?

I pulled out my phone and dialed Evelyns chief competitor.

Monicas playful, amused voice came through the line.

"Well, well, Mr. Gavin. To what do I owe the pleasure? Finally looking for a new girlfriend?"

I took a ragged breath.

"Do you want Evelyns upcoming product designs for next quarter? I'm the lead designer, and I haven't signed the release forms yet. If you want them, they're yours."

The playful tone vanished instantly. "What do you want in exchange?"

"Get me and my mother out of this city," I whispered. "And destroy Evelyns company."

"Consider it done, Gavin."

As the doctor stitched up my head, two nurses whispered nearby.

"The couple in the ER earlier was so sweet. The girl looked so stunned when she found out she was pregnant, she couldn't even speak."

"Right? They looked so perfect together."

I closed my eyes, a bitter smile playing on my lips. Perfect. A pair of matching snakes.

The doctor looked at my chart, his brow furrowing. "Mr. Gavin, your head injury is quite severe. You need absolute rest."

The next day, I went to the care facility to pack my mother's things.

As she massaged my temples, her eyes filled with worry. "You look so tired, sweetheart. Don't push yourself so hard. If the designs aren't finished, they aren't finished. Your boss is your girlfriend, isn't she? Surely she won't fire you."

A sharp pain stabbed my chest. I threw my arms around her and sobbed. Startled, she gently patted my back.

"I'm fine, Mom," I choked out. "Just stressed."

"Once I'm feeling a bit better, let's take a trip to Lake Tahoe," she smiled, squeezing my hand.

But when I returned from buying lunch that afternoon, the head nurse ran toward me, her face pale. "Mr. Gavin! Thank god you're back. Your mother... she fell from the balcony!"

The food containers crashed to the floor. I ran toward the ICU, my legs giving out before I could reach the doors.

I could still feel the warmth of her hands on my forehead, but when I opened my eyes, there was only the cold, sterile steel door of the operating room.

My stomach churned violently.

I fell to my knees, praying to whatever god was listening, begging to trade my own life for hers.

Four hours later, the doors slid open. The surgeon pulled off his mask and slowly shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Gavin. We did everything we could."

A wave of nausea hit me, and I threw up right there on the linoleum floor, unable to stop.

The world spun on its axis. I grabbed the doctor's collar, trying to scream, but no sound came out.

I went back to her empty room. The breeze blew through the open window, the bed still holding a faint trace of her warmth.

I picked up her phone. The very last call on her log was to Greg.

What did he say to her?

Why did she jump?

Grief curdled into an icy, blinding rage. I didn't care about the consequences anymore. I wanted to look into Greg's eyes and force the truth out of him.

I stormed into Greg's office building. The receptionist smirked when I asked for him.

"Youll have to wait. Mr. Greg's fiance is visiting him. They're... busy."

Muffled, intimate sounds drifted from the executive office, like needles pressing into my skull.

Let it go? Play nice?

How long had I played nice?

I grabbed a heavy fire extinguisher from the wall and slammed it into the glass door.

"Greg! Get your ass out here! Can't you two wait until you're off the clock to be disgusting?"

The glass shattered. Inside, Greg and Evelyn were scrambling to button their clothes, their faces red with panic.

Evelyn marched toward me, her eyes blazing. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I swung my hand, landing a fierce slap across her face. "What is wrong with me? Evelyn, look in the mirror."

I lunged forward, grabbing Greg by his tie, dragging him over his desk. "What did you say to my mother? Why did she jump? Tell me!"

Greg avoided my eyes, shouting, "I don't know what you're talking about! Security! Get him out of here!"

The office staff gathered outside the door, whispering.

"Is the manager getting dragged by his mistress's boyfriend?"

"Who knows? He always acted so high and mighty..."

Greg looked at Evelyn, pleading. Evelyn stepped in and slapped me hard across the face. "Calm down!"

Greg began to squeeze out fake tears. "Gavin! I always treated you like a brother! Why are you doing this now that my fiance is pregnant? Can't you just let us be happy?"

The whispers outside shifted instantly.

"Oh, I get it! He's trying to steal his best friend's woman!"

"So pathetic. Evelyn comes here every day. Who does this guy think he is?"

I stared at Evelyn. "Tell them, Evelyn. Who is the homewrecker here?"

Evelyn bit her lip. Finally, she looked away. "I'm pregnant with Greg's child."

Someone threw a crumpled piece of trash at me from the hallway. "Get out of here, you creep! She doesn't want you!"

"Where the hell is security?"

Three security guards broke through the crowd, slamming me onto the floor and pinning my arms behind my back.

One of the guards spat, "I hate homewreckers. Let's strip this trash and show everyone what he really is!"

Hands grabbed at my clothes, ripping the buttons from my collar. Cold, greasy fingers pawed at my skin, making me want to vomit.

Through the gap in the crowd, my eyes met Greg's. He was smiling, a look of pure, triumphant malice on his face.

"He's actually in great shape," someone mocked. "Look at those abs."

"Let me get a turn."

Just as despair threatened to swallow me whole, a sharp voice cut through the chaos. "Police! Back off!"

In the precinct, Greg was sobbing dramatically. "He assaulted us! He needs to be locked up!"

The officer turned to Evelyn. "Ms. Evelyn, this seems like a domestic dispute. Do you really want to..."

Greg clutched Evelyns hand, resting his palm on her stomach. "Evelyn, are you and the baby okay?"

Evelyn looked at me, a momentary flicker of guilt in her eyes, but she quickly masked it. "We broke up. He has no right to be here."

I looked back at her, but there were no tears left in me.

Too much had happened. I felt like a dying tree, its leaves falling one by one until only a hollow trunk remained.

A dry, metallic taste filled my mouth. Just then, a sharp, confident voice echoed from the lobby.

"Oh, please, Evelyn. Have some shame, will you?"

"You say you broke up, but you were calling him your husband just two days ago."

"Karma is a bitch, darling. If you don't believe me, open your phone and check your company's stock. It's looking a little red today."

Evelyn froze, her eyes widening as she spun around. But my gaze was already fixed on the door.