I Sold Our Future Home

Two months before the wedding, I went to inspect our new house and realized the layout had been changed. A new, empty room had been added. It was twice the size of my bedroom, and to make space for it, they had completely knocked down my gaming room.

I was baffled. When Leah came home, I looked at her, frowning.

"Why did you add an extra room to the blueprint without telling me?"

She hesitated, then offered a breezy, careless smile.

"Your buddy has no one in Chicago. Hes living in that cramped, miserable studio. Since were buying a place, what's wrong with giving him a space of his own here?"

Ah, there it was again. That casual, dismissive tone. What's wrong with..."Right after I bought a modest car, Leah went behind my back and bought Chase an even more expensive one. Her excuse? "Hes a corporate slave working overtime every night. When he gets off, the trains aren't even running. It's so inconvenient. Since Im practically his family, whats wrong with buying him a car?"

Even my wedding ringthe rare, custom band I had driven across three states to securewasn't safe. The very next day, I saw Chase flaunting the exact same ring on his Instagram.

When I got angry, Leah just gave a faint, patronizing smile.

"You're getting married, and he's still single, moping around all day. I wanted him to feel included. Whats wrong with buying him a ring so he knows we care?"

Now, facing the exact same excuse, I didn't hesitate. I pulled out my phone and messaged the realtor to list the house.

If she cared about Chase that much, then calling off this wedding... well, what's wrong with that?

"Are you sure you want to sell this place, Drew? And at half the market value?"

The realtor sounded incredulous. After all, a property in this neighborhood was highly coveted; no one would sell it this cheap. Especially since it was fully furnished, completely renovated, and move-in ready.

"I'm sure," I replied without a second thought.

I had poured my soul into this house. From the layout to the design, I did it allfrom the exact shade of paint on the walls to the choice of furniture. Leah had never cared, always brushing me off with a careless, "Do whatever you want."

But it wasn't until today, during the final walkthrough, that I realized my months of hard work had been remodeled to accommodate another man. To make room for Chase, she had shrunk my bedroom by half and completely demolished the gaming room I had spent weeks planning.

If that was the case, this house didn't need to exist.

"Who are you texting?" Leah leaned in to peer at my screen, but I locked my phone before she could see.

"The contractors."

"Oh. Well, make sure you tell them Chases bedroom needs warm white paint. And get him a high-end dehumidifier. Summer is coming, and he gets miserable in the humidity."

She said it so naturally, as if taking care of him was as vital as breathing. But when it came to me, she had never cared.

I suffer from severe eczema. Every humid summer, it flares up, leaving my skin raw, red, and incredibly itchy. I had begged Leah dozens of times to buy a dehumidifier, but she had always rolled her eyes.

"Those things are just a marketing scam. Its a waste of money. The humid season only lasts a few weeks anyway; you can just tough it out."

Pulling myself out of the memory, a bitter, self-deprecating smile touched my lips.

"Sure," I said.

At dinner, Chase let himself in, familiar with the keypad code as always. He sat down in his usual chair and took the personalized set of silverware Leah handed him.

"What are you standing there for? Scoop some rice for Chase," Leah nudged me, her voice sharp with impatience.

I don't know when it started, but eating in my own home had begun to feel like working a service job. I had to serve Chase first, and I had to make sure there wasn't a speck of oil on his plate, or else his neat-freak tendencies would flare up and hed scowl in disapproval.

And Leah would immediately unleash a torrent of criticism on me.

"You can't even wash a plate properly. Is there anything you can do right?"

In the past, I tolerated it because he was supposed to be my best friend. Even when Leah only cooked dishes he liked, completely forgetting my severe seafood allergy. Even when Leah raised her glass to drink with him, wrapping a tipsy arm around his shoulders while he accepted it gladly, completely ignoring how it made me feel.

I used to just smile it off, keeping my grievances quiet.

But now, I was suddenly done tolerating it.

I scooped my own food, sat down, and reached for a side dish.

Chase froze, his empty bowl still hovering in the air.

Leahs brow furrowed, her voice rising in anger. "Drew, what the hell is wrong with you? Chase hasn't even been served yet, and you're already eating?"

My grip tightened on my fork. I looked up, staring right at her.

"Is he my father or my king? Why am I expected to wait on him hand and foot every single time? Leah, your favoritism is getting embarrassing."

She blinked, caught off guard. Then, she let out a soft laugh, looking at me like I was a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"He's your best friend. Are you seriously jealous of him?" she said, reaching over to ruffle my hair. "I only treat him like family because he's close to you. I'm just looking out for him."

Then, just like she had a thousand times before, she murmured, "Come on, stop being dramatic."

When Chase's parents were pressuring him to settle down and he asked Leah to pretend to be his girlfriend for a week back in his hometown, I objected. She pulled her hand from mine and said, Come on, stop being dramatic."When Chase got lost on a hiking trail in the mountains, she abandoned me on the side of the highway, determined to drive back to find him. I had clung to the car door, pleading with her, only to receive a cold, hard look.

Chase is in actual danger right now. I have to go. Stop being dramatic."The memory faded. I looked down at the shrimp she had just casually dropped onto my plate, losing whatever little appetite I had left.

"I'm not hungry."

"Drew, what is your problem now?"

The brief warmth in her eyes vanished instantly, replaced by sheer annoyance.

It wasn't until Chase gently tugged at her sleeve and reminded her that I was allergic to seafood that a flicker of guilt finally crossed her face.

"Oh... let me make you something else then," she offered.

"Don't bother."

I stood up and went straight to my room, not sparing either of them another glance.

As the door clicked shut, Chase's voice drifted through the hallway. "Is Drew mad? Maybe I should go talk to him."

"Don't worry about him," Leah sighed. "He's just moody. Let's finish dinner."

A moment later, the sound of laughter drifted from the living room. They were watching a comedy special, talking over it with a comfortable, lively intimacy.

Yet when it was just Leah and me at home, she would snatch the remote and shut off whatever I was watching. "Stop rotting your brain with this garbage. You're slow enough as it is."

I sat down on the carpet, letting out a long, heavy breath.

I pulled out my phone. One by one, I began canceling the wedding invitations, the suit rental, and the venue.

"Drew, I'm going to drive Chase home," Leah's voice called out, muffled by the bedroom door.

Before I could even answer, the front door slammed shut.

It was pouring outsidethe kind of weather Leah absolutely despised.

Once, when I was stranded at a mall during a torrential downpour, I called her to ask for a ride. She had been thoroughly annoyed. The rain will die down soon. I'm finally getting some rest at home, do you really have to ruin my day?"But whenever Chase dined at our place, rain or shine, she insisted on driving him back herself. Shed even run through the rain with him, laughing like teenagers as they took shelter under a tree, sharing a private world.

My mind drifted back to our college days, to a storm we got caught in. She had pulled me against her chest, cupping her hands over my head to shield me from the rain, swearing shed protect me from the elements for the rest of our lives.

But somewhere along the way, those protective hands had found someone else to shield.

Leah didn't come back until midnight. She crept into the bedroom, trying not to wake me.

She lay down beside me, her back turned. The bright glow of her phone screen was impossible to miss in the dark.

I rolled over slightly and caught a glimpse of the text from Chase.

Leah, the office gave me two movie tickets for tomorrow. Do you want to go with me?"Then, as if to cover his tracks, he quickly added: Drew probably wouldn't like this kind of movie anyway."Leah's thumbs hovered over the screen, hesitating.

But tomorrow is Drew's birthday. I promised I'd spend it with him..."Before she could hit send, Chase's next text popped up.

Haha, it's totally fine! If you're busy, I can just go alone!"No, it's fine. I'll go with you."She could never bear to let Chase feel disappointed.

And so, out of the three of us, I was always the one left behind.

The next morning, Leah actually stayed home instead of rushing out to work early. She set breakfast on the table and pulled out a chair for me.

"Drew, breakfast is ready," she smiled, but her eyes held that familiar, guilty sweetness.

It was always the same routine. Before she abandoned me, she had to play the doting fiance.

"Hey, so they just called me in for an emergency shift tonight. I don't think I can make it back for your birthday dinner."

"How about we make it up to you this weekend? I'll buy you whatever you want."

Whatever I want. Which meant she hadn't planned a single thing. Not even a cheap grocery-store bouquet. She couldn't even bother to go through the motions.

Yet for Chases birthday, she had been more excited than I was. She spent weeks scouting the perfect restaurant, badgering me to find out what was on his wishlist.

When I expressed my frustration, she brushed it off. "I'm your fiance, Drew. I can't look bad in front of your best friend! Besides, if I treat him well, he won't be whispering in your ear telling you to dump me every time we have a fight!"

Back then, I had no choice but to lie to myself.

Maybe she really just wants to be nice to the people I love."Maybe she's just trying to secure our future by keeping my friends close."But I was done being blind.

I met her gaze, my voice flat. "Okay. No worries."

She smiled in relief and kissed my forehead. "I knew it. You're always so understanding, Drew."

Once the door closed behind her, I began packing.

Halfway through, my phone buzzed with a FaceTime call from my mother.

"Happy birthday, sweetie!" she beamed. "Look at thisyour dad got up at dawn to make his slow-cooked pot roast. I kept telling him you're a grown man with your own home now, that you wouldn't be coming back for your birthday. But you know how he is. He wouldn't listen."

Through the screen, I watched my father bustling around the kitchen, and the tears Id been holding back finally spilled over.

My mother froze, her smile fading into instant worry. "Drew? Oh honey, whats wrong? Is someone hurting you? Wheres Leah? Doesn't she usually take the day off for your birthday?"

I choked on a sob, wiping my face, my eyes burning.

"Mom," I whispered. "I'm not getting married."

"I want to come home. I want to spend the holidays with you guys."

My mother went dead silent for a moment. But she didn't pry. She just spoke in that soft, steady voice that always made me feel safe.

"Drew, whatever happened, your father and I are right here. If you're not happy there, come home. We're waiting for you."

When the call ended, the room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. Only the sound of my ragged breathing echoed off the walls.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, I had finally cried myself out.

The house felt too stifling, so I walked down to the riverfront, stopping by a bakery to buy a small, solitary slice of cake.

I sat on a park bench, just lighting the candle, when two familiar figures walked into my line of sight.

They had just stepped out of the movie theater, laughing and debating where to grab dinner.

Suddenly, a kid running past bumped into Chase. He stumbled forward, and Leah instantly caught him, pulling him flush against her chest.

They stood there, locked in each other's arms, their faces flushing red.

Neither of them made a move to break the embrace, as if trying to stretch out the sudden, quiet spark between them.

Then, Chase's eyes flicked over, and he froze.

"Dr... Drew?"

Leah turned slowly, her expression turning blank as our eyes met.

I didn't say a word.

I quietly boxed up my cake, stood up, and turned to walk away.

I hadn't even taken a few steps before Leah caught up, grabbing my arm.

"Drew, it's not what you think. He was falling, and I just caught him..."

"Caught him, or held onto him?"

I looked at her, my voice devoid of emotion.

She flinched, opening her mouth to speak, but I cut her off.

"You really do care about him, don't you? You're always so attuned to his every move. Last month, when we went for a walk in the park, you were so glued to your phone you didn't even notice when I slipped on the wet moss and fell."

Leah's face drained of color as the memory resurfaced.

"My knee was scraped raw. I was in so much pain I couldn't even make a sound. You walked ten yards ahead before you finally realized I wasn't next to you."

"I was handling an urgent work email!" Leah pleaded, her eyes wide with desperation.

I smiled bitterly, turning my gaze to Chase, who was hovering a few steps behind her.

"And what about now? You lied to me, said you had to work overtime, just to spend the day alone with him. Leah, do you ever tell me the truth anymore?"

She had no answer. She just looked down, silent.

"Drew, don't blame Leah. I'm the one who asked her out," Chase stepped forward, his face a mask of remorse. "My office gave me the tickets, and I thought it'd be a waste not to go. Plus, I knew you didn't care for racing movies."

I let out a cold, sharp laugh, stripping away his polite pretense.

"I don't like racing?"

"Chase, senior year of high school, you wanted to see the Formula 1 screening so badly that I helped you sneak out past curfew. Freshman year of college, I rented out a private theater for three of your favorite racing movies just to celebrate your birthday. Now you're telling me you didn't invite me because I don't like racing, so you invited my fiance instead? Don't make me laugh."

Chases mouth opened and closed, utterly speechless. His eyes welled with tears.

"Drew, please don't be mad," he choked out. "I really didn't think it through. I won't ever contact Leah again. I'll stay out of your lives. I'm so sorry... it's all my fault..."

The moment his tears began to fall, Leah's brief flicker of guilt vanished.

"Drew, he apologized. What more do you want?" she snapped. "It was just a movie. Do you really have to be this petty?"

Just a movie."Her instinct to shield him, to defend him, to put his feelings above mineit was all the proof I needed. Her heart had already drifted.

Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming weariness. Eight years of history, and I didn't even have the energy to argue.

"Okay."

"I won't be petty anymore. I'm done."

Leah blinked, caught off guard by how quickly I backed down. She seemed to sense that something had shifted, but mostly, she just looked relieved that the fight was over.

"Good. Let's just put this behind us," she said. "Chase hasn't eaten all day. I'm going to grab dinner with him. Do you want to come?"

It was a purely performative invite.

"No. You guys go ahead."

"Alright. Go home and get some rest. Stay safe."

She was already turning to leave, but then she paused, as if remembering something.

"By the way, the bridal shop called. They said you returned your wedding suit. Did you change your mind about the style?"

"No. I called off the wedding."

"Whatever, just handle it. All suits look the same anyway," she murmured, not really listening, and walked off.

I watched her retreating back and let out a quiet smile.

"Okay."

Back at the apartment, I grabbed my pre-packed suitcases and ordered a ride to the train station.

Later that evening, Leah returned home earlier than usual. The apartment was pitch black.

She called out my name, but only silence answered.

Assuming I was just out at another tailor to exchange the suit, she tossed her keys on the counter, sank onto the couch, and dialed the bridal shop.

"Hi, is Drew there exchanging his suit? Which one did he end up picking?"

"Actually, ma'am, Mr. Luther cancelled the order," the clerk replied, sounding confused. "He told us the wedding is off."