For ten years, I was the girl who was one of the guys. Plain, dependable Faye, the sidekick in Leo Gunn’s world. In the eleventh year of my hopelessly one-sided love for him, I was handed a miracle: a chance to play the part of his girlfriend. “My parents are driving me insane about setting me up,” he’d said, all casual charm. “Just help me get them off my back for a while?” The night I said yes, we ended up in his bed. I woke in the middle of the night to the sound of his voice, low and triumphant, drifting from the bathroom. “I told you she was into me. All I had to do was hint at it, and she fell right into my lap. That new Porsche of yours is mine, buddy.” He’d seen through my act all along. He’d known exactly how I felt and had simply chosen to ignore it. A decade of friendship, my deepest secret, was nothing more than leverage for a bet. I pressed my hands over my ears, forcing back the tide of delusion. The next morning, I woke up tangled in his arms. He toyed with my fingers, a lazy smile on his face. “Well, you’ve officially had the honor of being my first. So, what’s the feedback? I can work on any notes for next time.” I wiped the faint, dried salt from the corner of my eye and shoved him with my foot, hard. “Get off. I do you a favor, and you help yourself to an all-you-can-eat buffet. And for the record? The technique was awful. As for yesterday, let’s just pretend it never happened. Find someone else to play your fake girlfriend.” 1 Leo’s face hardened into a mask of stone. He rose without a word, gathered the clothes from the floor, and threw them into the washing machine. A few minutes later, dressed in a clean t-shirt and sweats, he was gone. The front door slammed with a force that rattled the walls. The world revolved around Leo, or so he thought. One word he didn't like, and the thunderclouds rolled in. I stared at my phone on the nightstand, my thumb hovering over his contact. I didn’t call. The last fragile barrier between us had been shattered. I had no idea how we were supposed to exist around each other now, and I needed time to figure it out. I thought back over the past year, over the string of dates I’d sabotaged under the guise of being his protective best friend. A bitter self-awareness washed over me. Humans really are insatiable creatures. At first, it was enough just to be near him, to have a front-row seat to his casual beauty. Then it was the easy comfort of his wealth, the way he was so easily swayed into indulging my whims. But somewhere along the way, my heart grew greedy. I started to dream of a world where Leo never dated, never married, where he was just… mine. I walked into the gaming room, fired up his high-end rig, and launched CS:GO. For the next hour, I channeled all my frustration into digital slaughter. Around noon, my phone rang. It was Ryan. “What the hell is Leo’s problem?” he asked. “He just posted an open call for a wife on his Instagram. Weren’t you two just…?” He cut himself off. I opened the app. It only took a few swipes. There it was: a picture of Leo, devastatingly handsome, with the caption: “Seeking a serious relationship, marriage-minded. Looks as pictured. Assets north of eight figures.” I had taken that photo last month. I’d just gotten back from a business trip, and as I walked out of the arrivals gate, I saw him waiting. He was wearing a crisp dress shirt, tailored trousers, and a pair of thin, gold-rimmed glasses he didn’t need. The whole look was devastatingly academic-hot-meets-asshole, and it hit every single one of my buttons. I’d snapped a few pictures before he caught me. The comment section was a frat house reunion. “Damn, Leo, saving the thirst traps for a special occasion?” “Dude, your vision is 20/20. You trying to look all intellectual with the glasses?” “Never seen you in that outfit before. Who are you trying to impress?” “Only eight figures? Slumming it, are we, Gunn?” Among the sea of comments, one stood out, sharp and painful. It was from Bianca Wells, one of his former setups. “I’ve been dying to go skiing in New Zealand. I heard you’re a certified instructor. Any chance you could teach me?” Leo had replied: “Absolutely. Next Friday work for you?” I remembered Bianca vividly. Even after I’d managed to ruin two of their dates, she’d relentlessly asked him out for a third. She only backed off when she saw Leo and me crammed onto his single-person armchair, controllers in hand, bodies pressed together as we played a game. And that was just the public declaration. How many others were sliding into his DMs? A familiar, acidic jealousy burned in my chest. Leo was never going to choose me. I had simply stolen a few years in his orbit under the false flag of friendship. Yesterday’s fleeting joy was just the punchline to a bet. Ryan’s voice came through the phone again. “I thought he asked you to be his girlfriend?” I forced a lightness I didn't feel into my voice. “And just because he asks, I have to say yes? Hell, Ryan, I could ask you to be my boyfriend. You gonna take me up on it?” I heard a clatter on his end, like he’d dropped something. “Ha, Faye, you’re hilarious,” he stammered, then quickly hung up. The call killed my desire to play. I looked around the room. The dual monitors, the ergonomic chair, the custom keyboard—Leo had bought it all. He’d gotten me into CS:GO, bought me every rare skin he ever unboxed for himself. “We’re a team,” he’d said when I tried to protest. “What’s mine is yours.” I took a closer look at my in-game inventory. The total value had to be over a hundred thousand dollars. I tossed the mouse aside. A single thought, clean and sharp, cut through the haze. I should sell it all. 2 To combat the gnawing emptiness, I called my friend Chloe and dragged her shopping. We bought new clothes, new shoes, and then I saw it—the ski shop where Leo had taken me a few years ago. He’d insisted on outfitting me from head to toe himself. On a whim, I tried on a new helmet and a pair of mirrored goggles, checking my reflection. That’s when I heard her voice from the next aisle. “Leo, you can’t get mad at me if I’m terrible, okay? You have to promise you’ll be patient.” “And oh my god, I remember you have a jacket in this style. I want to get the matching one so we can be twins on the slopes.” I turned. It was Leo and Bianca. He looked vaguely annoyed, but he promised he’d be the epitome of patience. He even agreed to the matching jackets. Bianca then skipped over to the snowboards, her voice dripping with excitement. “Leo, I want to get the same board as you, too! Which one is yours?” I didn’t want to watch this saccharine performance. I pulled off the goggles and started for the exit, but Chloe’s voice rang out, betraying me. “Faye, you’re not getting the new goggles?” I froze. When I turned back, my eyes met Leo’s. Bianca was staring, too. “What a coincidence,” I managed. A smug smile played on Bianca’s lips. “Well, if it isn’t Leo’s little buddy.” She directed her next words at me, a purr of victory in her tone. “Leo’s taking me to New Zealand in a few days. So no matter what happens—whether you get a sudden fever or get into a fender bender—he won’t be coming back for you. I hope you’re strong enough to learn how to walk on your own.” I gave a careless nod. “Right. Thanks for the heads-up.” Leo didn’t say a word. He just picked up the goggles I’d put down. “You liked these? Let me get them for you. Anything else you want, just pick it out. It’s on me.” “Leo!” Bianca’s voice was a sharp whine. “You said you were buying me gear.” He offered me a small, tight smile. “Consider it my apology for yesterday. We’re still friends, right?” I stared at him, a wave of pure humiliation washing over me. What did he think I was? For hire? Someone he could pull into his bed when the mood struck, then discard for the next shiny thing, smoothing it all over with a few expensive trinkets? I grabbed Chloe’s arm and walked out of the store. I didn’t see the argument that flared up between him and Bianca, nor did I see him storm out moments later, leaving her standing there alone. 3 Chloe took me to a dark, loud bar and, in a grand gesture of solidarity, had the bartender line up a row of handsome men for my inspection. I made each of them say a single sentence. I kept the one whose voice sounded the most like Leo’s. Chloe pulled me aside, her eyes wide. “Oh my god, you actually picked one? What if Leo finds out?” I twisted the cap off a beer and poured myself a glass. “You’re the one who set this up. Now you’re getting cold feet?” She put her hand over mine. “Are you and Leo really over? Maybe he’s just doing all this to make you jealous. You said it was his first time, too.” I didn’t want to tell her about the bet. I just raised my glass and drank it down in one go. “Forget it. He and Bianca are perfect for each other—good families, good looks. Where does a joke like me fit into that picture? The stars of the show are finally getting together. If the villainous side character doesn’t exit gracefully, she’s bound to have a bad ending.” Drinking alone was too depressing, so I turned to the guy I’d chosen. “Can you sing? Find me a karaoke track. Something devastatingly sad.” Your forever doesn’t belong to me anymore… I can see now, he’s better for you than I ever was… With each line of the song, I downed another drink. Just pretend this is you, Leo, I thought. Pretend this is your apology. Through a drunken haze, I thought I saw him. A phantom Leo who carried me out of the bar, laid me gently on my bed, and pulled the covers over me. But when I woke up from the hangover from hell, I was sprawled on my bedroom floor next to Chloe. I propped myself up, my head pounding, and started typing my resignation letter. 4 On Monday, my boss, Sarah, rushed over to my desk, her face etched with worry. “Faye, did you and Mr. Gunn have a fight?” I was completely lost. “What? Why would you ask that?” “That contract we were supposed to sign last Friday,” she said, her voice frantic. “His procurement department just called. They’re saying any purchase over two hundred thousand has to go out for public tender now.” “But they were the ones rushing us! They said our companies have worked together for years, that the paperwork was just a formality, and that we should start production. We’ve already ordered the raw materials, the lines are already running! Now they’re pulling this? The partners and the legal team have been grilling me all morning about why I didn't follow protocol.” I nodded, my stomach sinking. “Let me ask him about it. It might just be a change in their corporate policy. Sarah, can you call the suppliers and the factory floor? Stall them as much as you can.” I sent Leo a series of texts and called him twice. No reply. No answer. I had no choice but to go through his executive assistant. I told her I’d be stopping by his office at lunch to eat with him. At twelve-thirty, I walked into Leo’s office holding two bags of takeout from the Italian place I’m obsessed with. I almost collided with Bianca Wells, who was standing right inside the door. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What are you doing here? Is that… food from The Hearth? Don’t tell me you’re trying to ruin my date with Leo again.” I set the bags on his coffee table and sat down on the sofa. “Ruin your date? You might have the wrong idea. I’m just here to grab lunch with my best friend and talk about a little work thing.” A few minutes later, Leo walked in. He placed his laptop next to the food, then picked up a woman’s handbag from the armchair. He smiled at Bianca. “Sorry about that, the meeting ran long. Thanks for being so patient.” Bianca’s voice went up an octave. “It’s okay, I don’t mind waiting for you.” She pointed at me. “It looks like your friend brought you lunch. Didn’t you tell her we had plans?” Leo turned, feigning surprise. “Faye. What are you doing here?” He paused. “Didn’t my assistant tell you I had a lunch meeting today?” He tapped his forehead. “Ah, you know what, it’s my fault. I got so busy I forgot to mention it to her.” He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “Here to talk about the procurement issue? Why don’t you wait in the conference room. Bianca and I will just grab a quick bite, and I’ll be in to chat after.” He buzzed his assistant. “And from now on, Faye doesn’t get buzzed straight into my office. She’s not an employee, after all. If there was ever a security leak, I wouldn’t want people pointing fingers at her.” I picked up my bags of cooling pasta and walked out of his office. It was really time to go. Just as soon as I fixed this mess. 5 I waited from noon until seven in the evening. Leo never came back. His assistant, a kind woman named Kate, knocked softly on the conference room door. “Maybe you should try sending Mr. Gunn a message? The office closed half an hour ago.” I gave her an apologetic smile. “It’s okay. I’ll just wait for him in the lobby.” Kate’s face was a study in awkwardness as she escorted me to the grand, empty lobby. “I’m so sorry,” she stammered, “I have a family thing I have to get to…” I nodded, playing my part in the charade. This was the same woman who had once driven across town at 1 a.m. to bring me stomach medicine. I watched her leave. At nine o’clock, with the building nearly deserted, I finally saw him striding through the doors. “Faye, what are you… Oh, my god. I am so, so sorry. Taking Bianca shopping is an ordeal. The same dress in five different colors, trying on every single one, and I have to have an opinion on all of them. I’m completely wiped. I totally forgot you were waiting. Come on, I’ll drive you home.” He launched into a practiced explanation as we walked. “About that contract—procurement brought it to my attention this morning. But it’s a new company-wide policy, and I can’t be seen interfering. It would set a bad precedent. You’ll just have to go through the bidding process. I’m sure if the terms are similar, they’ll still prioritize you guys.” He kept talking, a flood of words that left no room for me to speak. I followed him silently to the underground parking garage and got into his car. The first thing I noticed was something new: a small, sleek car refrigerator installed in the center console. I reached for the handle. Leo’s hand covered mine, stopping me. “Bianca insisted on it. It’s just full of her coconut water, nothing to see.” A memory from last week surfaced, sharp and bitter. I’d been sitting in this same passenger seat, complaining. “It’s so hot, my sparkling water is practically boiling. You should get a car fridge.” What had he said then? “Warm is better for you. Cold drinks give you cramps, and then I have to go to all the trouble of making you ginger tea.” At the time, I’d allowed myself a sliver of hope. I thought he was worried about me, that he cared. A car fridge costs next to nothing for him. But now I understood. It wasn’t about my health. It was the trouble. Buying a fridge was trouble. Making tea was trouble. Dealing with me was trouble. I pulled at the chain around my neck until a small glass vial emerged from under my shirt. “Leo, can you do one thing for me?” A strange, knowing smile touched his lips. “Of course. Anything. Whatever you want, it’s yours.” I unclasped the necklace and placed the vial in his hand. “I’m asking you to sign that contract for my company. After that, we’re even. We go our separate ways.” 6 The small glass vial held the last remnants of melted snow. Five years ago, Leo and I, full of the arrogance of youth, went backcountry skiing alone. We were carving down the mountainside, blissfully unaware of a group of novices far above us. Led by an irresponsible guide, they cut across a dangerous pitch and triggered an avalanche. When I fought my way out of the snow, I used my transceiver and shovel to find him. His condition was critical. He was upside down in a tree well, his strength completely gone. I dug him out, performed first aid, and raced him down the mountain to the nearest hospital. When he woke up, he told me that after freeing himself from the initial snow pile, he’d taken two steps before tumbling headfirst into the hidden cavity. Once he recovered, he bought this tiny bottle and filled it with a pinch of snow from that mountain. “I owe you my life,” he’d said. “From now on, this bottle is your proof. Whatever you wish for, just ask.” I had just clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re best friends. Don’t be ridiculous. If it were me trapped in there, you’d have done the same thing.” Later, I found a silver chain and started wearing the bottle as a pendant, keeping it with me always. I’d replayed this moment in my dreams a thousand times. In them, I would present the bottle and ask, “What if I want to be with you? What if I want to be your girlfriend?” And the Leo in my dreams would always smile and say, “Faye. I’ve been in love with you for years. But you were always so platonic, I thought you didn’t feel the same. I had to hide it, to stay close to you as your friend.” But dreams are the opposite of reality. I was the one who had been secretly in love, the one with ulterior motives. If I asked now, Leo would probably just see me as pathetic, someone shamelessly leveraging a past debt. So today, I was giving it back. To solve the problem I had created for Sarah, and to finally set myself free. Leo’s face darkened. “This is what you want to use it for? My life… is worth one contract? And then we’re even?” I nodded, forcing a light tone. “Is that too small of an ask? I didn’t want to be greedy.” His hand opened. The glass vial fell. He pointed to the door. “You want to go your separate ways? Fine. Get out of my car.” The bottle landed on the soft floor mat, bounced once, and then lay still. Just like me. Given a fleeting moment of hope, only to be ruthlessly crushed. “Goodbye, Leo,” I said. I opened the door and walked away.
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