Chapter 4

When the doorbell rang again at dusk, I opened the door to see Eugene. He stood at the door, his shirt wrinkled, shadows under his eyes as deep as my own.

"Winnie," Eugene rasped, "can we talk for a minute?"

Without a word, I stepped aside to let him in.

Eugene glanced around, his gaze settling on the coffee and uneaten pastries. "Evelyn came by?" he asked.

I nodded. "She said you sent her to check on me."

Eugene frowned. "I only told her I was coming over. She insisted on apologizing first."

He stepped closer and reached for my hand, but I flinched away before he could touch me.

"Winnie, about last night, I'm truly sorry," Eugene said, his voice thick with regret. "We were drunk, and our friends kept egging us on. Evelyn is like one of the guys to me—there's absolutely nothing between us."

I looked up at him, my voice sharp with disbelief. "Like one of the guys, huh? Then why did you two share one drink so affectionately? And why did you end up sharing the same bed?"

He dragged both hands through his hair. "They were just fooling around when they suggested that—we didn't think much of it. As for sharing the bed..." He hesitated. "We were wasted and just passed out. Nothing happened, I swear."

"It's not about what did or didn't happen!" I suddenly raised my voice. "The real problem is that you don't even understand why it's wrong. That was our wedding night, Eugene, and our bed."

Eugene staggered back, visibly shaken by my outburst. He stammered, "I... I know how this looks, but you're reading too much into it. Evelyn and I—"

"Evelyn again," I interrupted before he could finish. "She's been there for every milestone. On our first anniversary, you ditched me to comfort her through a breakup.

"On my birthday, you rushed off to stay with her at the hospital over some stomachache. And now—on our wedding night—you two shared one drink and passed out together like some couple."

Eugene's expression darkened. "Those were emergencies—she really needed help back then. Winnie, since when are you this jealous?"

"Jealous?" I stared at Eugene in disbelief. "So now I'm the one being unreasonable?"

"That's not what I meant," he said, pacing restlessly around the room. "I just don't get why Evelyn bothers you so much. She's one of my best friends, like Sylvia is to you."

This comparison froze me. Sylvia was my best friend, but we respected boundaries, never barging in during each other's most important moments.

"Eugene," I said, forcing calm into my voice, "can you imagine Sylvia and me sharing one drink and then the same bed?"

Eugene was caught off guard, momentarily lost for words.

"How would you feel if I did what you did last night with another man?" I pressed.

"That's different..."

"How is it different?"

Eugene tried to shoot back, but no words came out. Finally, he slumped onto the couch. "Just tell me how you want me to fix it."

I looked at him and felt exhaustion settling deep in my bones. This wasn't what I needed. I wanted him to understand my feelings without explanation—not just recite empty apologies.

"Just go home," I said, my voice drained. "I need some space."

Eugene started to protest when my phone suddenly rang—it was Sylvia.

"Winnie, where are you?" Sylvia's voice crackled with urgency. "I heard about last night. Are you okay?"

"My old place," I said, glancing at Eugene. "Eugene's here too."

"That jerk!" Sylvia's voice shot up. "Hold on, I'm on my way."

*****

Sylvia arrived in under twenty minutes, still in her business attire—clearly having rushed straight from work.

She barely glanced at Eugene before rushing straight to my side. "Are you okay?" she asked, gripping my shoulders as she scanned me for damage.

I nodded, managing a weak smile.

Only then did Sylvia turn to Eugene, her glare sharp enough to draw blood. "Eugene, I can't believe you'd do something like this on your wedding night. Seriously?"

Eugene rose stiffly. "Sylvia, this is between Winnie and me."

"Oh, so now you realize it's between you two?" Sylvia sneered. "Funny how that didn't occur to you last night when you were sharing a drink with Evelyn."

Eugene's expression darkened. "Look, I've already explained—it was just fooling around between friends."

"Between friends?" Sylvia scoffed. "Be honest, Eugene, has Evelyn ever seen you as just a friend? For six years since college, she's been sabotaging Winnie at every turn.

"Every anniversary, every birthday, every milestone—suddenly Evelyn has some 'crisis' that only you can fix. Six years of this, and you're still blind to it?"

I gaped at Sylvia—I always thought I was the only one who'd sensed Evelyn's hostility.

Eugene shook his head. "You've got it all wrong. Evelyn has always supported us—she even helped plan my confession to her."

"Oh please," Sylvia cut in, ticking off the examples on her fingers. "Like when she 'accidentally' lost those concert tickets to Winnie's favorite band, forcing you to change all your plans?"

Her voice turned even sharper as she continued, "Or when Evelyn suddenly needed an emergency appendectomy during your graduation trip, forcing you to cancel your romantic getaway?"

I stared at Eugene in shock. I remembered every one of those incidents, but now I saw the truth. He'd claimed the concert tickets were lost due to a system glitch, and that the graduation trip was canceled for a family emergency.

Eugene's expression faltered. "They were just coincidences," he insisted weakly.

"Six years." Sylvia's voice dropped, heavy with accusation. "Six years of choosing Evelyn over Winnie. Now you're married, yet she's still attached to you like a second shadow. Does that really seem normal to you?"

A heavy silence filled the room. Eugene stood frozen, his brow furrowed as he processed Sylvia's words.

Finally, he looked up at me, his voice strained. "Winnie, I need time to think this through. But I swear I won't let this destroy us."