Chapter 1
During a game of truth or dare, both Laura and I lost at the same time.
I kept the pregnancy report hidden in my pocket, stole a glance at my boyfriend, cheeks burning as I was about to pick "truth."
But Laura beat me to it.
She casually swirled her wine glass, eyes locked on me with a subtle smile. "I've been dating one of your boyfriends for eight years.
"We got our marriage license yesterday. But his girlfriend doesn't seem to know yet."
I froze, my body trembling uncontrollably.
Out of everyone in our friend group, Sean and I were the only ones who were actually together.
My best friend said, "Come on, everyone already knows that. Pick something else."
My boyfriend chimed in, "That doesn't count."
I watched them all laughing, cheering, and urging each other to drink, passing drinks around.
It felt like I'd been thrown into a whirlpool, spinning, totally disoriented.
I'd been with Sean for thirteen years. He'd been with Laura for eight.
My hand, clutching the pregnancy report, dug into my palm so hard it drew blood.
I took a shaky breath and asked, my voice trembling. "Laura, did you and Sean really get your marriage license?"
My voice was so shaky it barely sounded like me.
As soon as my voice rang out, it was like someone hit the mute button on the whole room.
"So, you two are actually together now?" I stared at Sean, barely holding back tears. "You've really been dating for eight years?"
Laura set her glass down.
Anna moved to stand between us, blocking me a little. "Nora, don't do anything rash."
I looked at her, my best friend Anna Turner.
The one who grew up with me, who'd run through a storm just to bring me ibuprofen when I was on my period.
And now she was telling me not to freak out.
I glanced around at the group. Almost everyone here was a friend of Sean's, and I both knew.
All of them knew, but none of them even bothered to tell me.
"She knew she was the side chick and still did it anyway," I said, feeling like I could cough up blood. "And you all let them mess around behind my back?"
Sean stood up. "Nora, don't say that."
He looked at Laura, his voice tinged with sadness but unwavering. "If you want to blame someone, blame me. I couldn't help myself."
Maybe it was the AC in the private room. It felt like an icy hand was squeezing my heart.
"When did this happen?" I asked.
No one said a word.
"You two have been together for eight years, and yesterday you got your marriage license," I said, clenching my fists, struggling to keep my voice steady. "Last night, Sean even texted me.
"He reminded me to be careful because a typhoon was coming, and to make sure I had some instant noodles at home."
Anna let out a sigh. "Nora, you should go home. At this point, what do you even want to know?
"Finding out will only make you feel worse. You can't force feelings."
I stared at her, my best friend since childhood.
I watched her stand in front of the girl who'd ruined my relationship for eight years, actually taking her side.
I wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn't come out.
Everyone else looked away, but Laura met my eyes head-on, her gaze so brazen it was almost cruel.
She glanced up at me, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. That was the smug smile of someone who knew she'd won.
"Nora, no one was trying to keep you in the dark," she said. "When it comes to love, there's no such thing as first or second."
My chest churned with bitterness, a sour ache clogging my throat.
I couldn't get it down. I raised my hand.
Sean stepped forward, catching my wrist, his tone helpless, trying to calm me down. "Nora, this is all on me. Please, don't blame Laura.
"It's Laura's birthday today. If you want to talk, let's do it later."
I picked up the glass in front of me and drained it in one gulp.
The sharp liquor burned my throat, and my eyes watered from the sting.
He remembered it was Laura's birthday. But today was also our thirteen-year anniversary.
I'd reserved a table at a restaurant ahead of time for our anniversary.
But the message I sent was still sitting there, all alone at the bottom of the chat, waiting for a reply that never came.
The waiter knocked politely and said, "Sorry to interrupt, here's your birthday cake.
"The video you asked for is now playing on the main screen outside. Everyone can go check it out."
I stepped outside. The screen showed a vlog.
The video kicked off with that famous line: "Are you free next week?"
Then Laura appeared, her eyes lighting up with a bright, cheerful smile. "Mr. Davis, this is a little memento for us."
Laura was filming herself, and behind her, Sean was totally absorbed in his phone.
She whispered, "This was the first time I met Mr. Davis."
I still remembered that. Back in college, during a club retreat, Sean and his friends went to the beach.
I'd gotten home when I heard, and I rushed over to see him.
Sean looked a little surprised, then picked me up and spun me around by the shore.
He told me that once we graduated, we'd get engaged.
Later, he got busy with work, and I was buried in grad school prep.
Every time I brought up getting engaged, he'd dodge the question.
He always told me to wait, said things were still up in the air, and he couldn't give me a comfortable life yet.
Then the video switched to everyone sending their best wishes.
They were all Sean's roommates, who I'd known for years.
And now, they were sitting here with us in the private room.
"Congrats, congrats. I was there too, and Sean was so embarrassed," one of them laughed.
"Man, that's pretty romantic. Sean must be totally smitten," another joked.
But a couple of days ago, they were still texting me. [Nora, Sean's totally wasted. Can you come pick him up?]
Next up, the video showed them at the amusement park.
They were goofing around for the camera, pulling funny faces.
"The giant swing was wild. Mr. Davis kept saying he was too scared, but he still rode the giant swing and the roller coaster with me." Laura laughed.
My eyes were brimming with tears.
I'd always wanted to go to the amusement park. At first, Sean always said he didn't have time.
He was buried in work, rushing to finish projects and prepping reports for meetings.
He'd pout and act all needy, trying to win me over. "Next time, I promise I'll go with you," he'd say.