Chapter 1
I had been with my boyfriend for eight years, and friends with my bestie for fifteen.
My bestie never talked to my boyfriend behind my back.
And my boyfriend never kept anything from me.
I never thought much about it until one night at a work dinner, someone pointed at my boyfriend's new profile picture.
"Hey, your boyfriend and your bestie's profile pics are from the same artist's matching couple avatars, right?"
I paused for a moment, then just laughed and said it wasn't.
When I got home, I asked him about it. He was gaming, didn't even take his eyes off the screen.
"Chloe recommended it. Thought it looked cool, so I used it. If you don't like it, I'll change it."
Chloe was even more chill. She just sent me a dog meme.
"You're overthinking it. I recommended this artist to a bunch of friends."
I went to check out the artist's page.
The artist only took custom commissions, and for each one, you had to describe both people and provide a special date.
The artist had a pinned post that said:
"All custom art is one-of-a-kind. Never sold twice."
I stared at that line for a long time, then matched their profile pics side by side.
The gray one showed a guy outlined in gray, standing with his back to the sunset.
The pink one showed a girl's side profile, bathed in the same sunset.
Their lines of sight perfectly matched.
I turned off my phone, deleted the group chat, and booked a one-way ticket out of town.
If they're leaving me out of their story, then I'll just flip the page and write my own ending.
*****
"Emily, did you delete the group chat?"
Chloe's voice message popped up at 1:03 AM, sounding a little hurt.
"I thought my phone was glitching. Scared me for a second."
I didn't reply.
I set my phone face down on the nightstand, and it vibrated three times before finally going quiet.
Alex was sleeping next to me, breathing evenly, his phone under his pillow, just like always.
I turned to look at him.
Eight years, and his sleeping position hadn't changed at all, his right hand always resting on his chest, lips just barely open.
I used to think this was the most comforting sight in the world.
Now, it just felt strange to me.
The next morning, I got up early. Alex was still asleep.
I sat at the dining table, eating porridge, with twelve unread messages on my phone.
Nine of them were from Chloe.
"Emily?"
"Are you mad at me?"
"I just thought the artist's style looked nice. Don't read too much into it."
"Want me to change my avatar?"
"Come on, say something."
The rest were voice messages. I didn't even open them.
The other three were from Alex, timestamped at 2 AM.
He'd woken up in the middle of the night and sent me a message.
But it wasn't meant for me.
He sent it to our group chat first, but when he realized it was gone, he messaged me directly.
"Where'd the group chat go?"
"Did you accidentally delete it?"
"I'll add you back tomorrow."
I finished my porridge, put the bowl in the sink, and didn't bother washing it.
Alex didn't get up until nine. When he came out, his hair was a mess. He checked his phone first, then looked at me.
"What's up with the group chat? Chloe was asking me."
"I left," I said.
He frowned, came over, and sat down across from me.
"Why?"
"I just don't want to be in it anymore," I said.
He stared at me for a couple of seconds, like he was trying to figure out if I was just being dramatic.
Then he smiled, that gentle, soothing smile you give a kid to calm them down.
"Alright, if you don't want to be in it, that's fine."
"You two should talk it out later. Don't let a profile picture cause any drama between you."
With that, he went off to brush his teeth, not asking another word.
I stayed where I was, watching his back disappear into the bathroom.
He thought I was just being dramatic.
He thought this was just some petty drama between me and my bestie.
He never even realized that leaving the group chat was really about him.
*****
Later that afternoon, Chloe asked me out for coffee.
When she showed up, her makeup was perfect, and she hooked her arm through mine the moment she walked in.
"Emily, you didn't sleep well last night, huh? You look like you barely slept."
I motioned for her to take a seat, staying quiet.
She stirred the foam on her latte, tilting her head as she looked at me.
"Are you still stuck on the whole profile picture thing?" she asked.
"I swear, I recommended that artist to a bunch of people. Ask Sophie. She has it too."
"Chloe," I interrupted.
"That artist only does custom commissions, right?"
"You have to give them both people's personalities and a special date. You know that, right?"
Her hand froze for a moment.
It lasted less than a second before she started stirring again.
"Oh, really?"
"I didn't notice any of that. I just thought the art style looked cool, so I sent it to Alex."
"His was commissioned," I said. "Yours was too."
"Put them together, and it's a couple pairing artwork."
She looked up and wasn't even fazed.
It was that expression I knew by heart.
Innocent, like she'd been unfairly accused.
"Emily, you're overthinking this," Chloe said.
"The artist's page spells it out," I said. "Every custom piece is one-of-a-kind and needs info from both people."
"So what did you tell them? What date did you use?"
"Oh, come on," she said, setting her cup down and taking my hands in hers.
"I just put in random stuff. I just thought the art looked pretty. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"
"You just made up a date?" I asked.
"Yeah, I just grabbed a random day," she replied.
She smiled and gave my hand a gentle pat.
"If it really makes you uncomfortable, I'll switch my avatar right now and never talk to that artist again, alright?"
Her voice was soft and caring, like she was always thinking about me.
Just like she'd done for the past fifteen years.
But after I got home that day, I opened up the artist's DMs.
As a customer, I asked:
"Does the special date show up in the custom art?"
The artist replied almost instantly:
"Yeah, I hide the date somewhere in the art as an Easter egg."
I zoomed in on Alex's profile picture.
In the gray image, the sunset rays behind him came together to form a number.
0917.
September 17th.
It wasn't the day Alex and I got together.
It wasn't his birthday, or mine.
I scrolled through Chloe's feed, all the way back to three years ago.
On September 17th, she made a post.
The picture showed a cup of coffee and a book, tagged at the café right below my apartment.
The caption read: "First time grabbing coffee alone with Emily's boyfriend. He's honestly a really nice guy."
It all came back to me.
That day, I was out of town for work, so I asked Alex to drop off a book with Chloe. They caught up downstairs.
Back then, I actually thought it was great that my best friend and boyfriend could hang out without any drama.
September 17th, three years ago.
They made that day their own special anniversary.
I turned off my phone and lay on the bed, the ceiling was so white it almost hurt my eyes.
Alex's message popped up:
"Chloe's feeling down tonight. I'm having a drink with her, so I'll be back late."
I didn't reply.