At the party, my fiancée's male best friend, Bryan Stone, switches out my glass of milk with lube. I catch the taste immediately but it's too late, I've already swallowed it down. My stomach burns like acid, and Bryan's laughing so hard he can barely breathe. "That's lube, dumbass! Can't you even tell? God!" Mira Sinclair, my fiancée, watches me double over in pain, and I can see the disgust written all over her face, like I'm the one embarrassing her right now. I tell Bryan to apologize but he just grins at me. "What, you can't even take a joke? Come on, Ryder, don't be such a bummer." I grab the bottle and dump the rest over his head. Half a second later, Mira's hand cracks across my face. I walk out of the banquet hall and pull out my phone. "Marry me in three days. You in?" *** The second I pour the lube over Bryan's head, the entire room goes silent, and every single person turns to look at Mira. Everyone knows Bryan is Mira's precious male best friend, and nobody dares mess with him. Not even me. Lube drips down Bryan's face, and he starts frantically wiping at it. "Mira! What's Ryder's problem? He can't even take a fucking joke!" Before I can say anything, Mira slaps me hard across the face. The sound echoes through the silent room, and I can tell she put everything she had into it. Her cocktail ring splits my lip open, and blood runs down from the corner of my mouth, but she just stares at me with ice-cold contempt. "Ryder Blackwell, what the fuck is wrong with you?" She spins around to help Bryan wipe the liquid from his hair and completely ignores my bleeding lip. My stomach churns violently, and that slick, oily feeling replays in my mind. I can't help it, I start to gag. Mira's face hardens even more. "If you're gonna puke, do it outside. Don't make everyone sick." I grab a glass of water off the table and chug the whole thing. The nausea finally backs off a little. Bryan keeps wiping himself down while pointing at me accusingly. "Mira, I was just messing around with Ryder. He didn't have to do this. Does he hate me or something? Why's he targeting me?" Mira keeps soothing him while she helps clean him up. "It's Ryder's fault. All of it." That gentle tone in her voice hits me hard because I haven't heard her use it in months. At least not with me. Once Mira finishes helping Bryan, she turns back to face me, and her voice drops to pure ice. "Apologize to Bryan!" I stubbornly wipe the blood from my mouth and refuse to back down. "Mira, do you even hear yourself right now? I'm the one who got tricked into drinking lube, and when I push back just a little bit, you can't handle it?" I stare into Mira's eyes and catch a flash of guilt, but it disappears in a second because Bryan's already tearing up and throwing a fit. "I've never been humiliated like this in my entire life! In front of all these people too, I can't show my face anywhere now!" His voice gets louder and more dramatic. "Mira, maybe we shouldn't be friends anymore. Your fiancé clearly hates me." He turns like he's about to leave, and Mira panics, grabbing his arm hard. She shouts at me, "Apologize. Now!" I see the steel in Mira's eyes, and I know if I don't apologize, I'm not getting out of here. The lube's still churning in my stomach, but I swallow down the nausea and force out the words. "I'm sorry." Mira's expression finally softens, and she turns to comfort Bryan. "It's okay now, it's okay. He was wrong. I'll make it up to you tomorrow." I have no idea what she means by making it up to him, but the smug look in Bryan's eyes tells me it's nothing good. The music starts up again, and Mira and Bryan are back spinning around the dance floor, leaving me alone at the table thinking about what kind of marriage I'm about to walk into. Suddenly, a sharp pain rips through my stomach. I've had stomach problems since I was a kid, and the lube must have triggered it, because now it feels like knives are tearing through my insides. I try to stand up and call for help but my voice gets swallowed by the music, and nobody hears me. "Mira... Mira." I reach my hand toward her direction, begging her to see me and take me to the hospital. She doesn't notice, but Bryan does, and he smoothly shifts his body to block her view of me completely. With no other option, I struggle through the pain and manage to call an ambulance with trembling fingers. As I'm fighting my way toward the door, I see Bryan lean in and kiss Mira on the lips. My heart turns to ice. The heartbreak cuts deeper than any stomach pain. Looks like there's no point in having that wedding in three days.
At the hospital, the doctor pumps my stomach and finds it's not just the prank lube—Bryan had also added paint. They have to pump me three times to get it all out. My already weak stomach is absolutely destroyed after all that. Late into the night, even breathing sends burning pain through my chest. When I can't take it anymore, I ask Mira to come take care of me for a bit. I call her three times and she doesn't pick up once, but then I see Bryan's social media post. They've moved the party to my villa, and they're tearing the place apart. In the video, my personal belongings are scattered all over the floor, and my collectible figures have been tossed in the trash. Even worse, I spot my first award-winning robot design from college, and the head's been ripped off the body, both pieces lying broken under a table corner. Meanwhile, Mira and Bryan are drinking from each other's glasses and making out while everyone around them cheers and whistles. I can't let it go, so I call Mira again. This time, she actually picks up, but her voice is dripping with irritation. "Jeez, Ryder, do you know what time it is? What do you want now?" "Mira, I... I'm not doing well. I just had my stomach pumped, and I'm in a lot of pain. Can you come see me? Just for a little bit?" My voice sounds pathetic even to my own ears. I can tell Mira hears the pain in my voice, and she's hesitating, but then, Bryan cuts in from the background. "Mira, come on! I just peeled some grapes for you." Whatever hesitation she had vanishes instantly, and her voice turns cold and annoyed. "Your stomach hurts? Go see a doctor. I'm busy right now, so stop calling me all the time. Take some medicine and leave me alone." My throat feels like someone stuffed cotton in it, and I can't get a single word out. Bryan grabs the phone, and his voice is pure provocation. "Ryder, you sound like shit. Still crawling back from death's door?" I can hear the smug satisfaction in his tone. "Bryan, get the fuck out of my apartment and fix all my collectibles!" "Those robot parts of yours? I had the cleaning staff sweep them up. They're probably at the bottom of some dumpster by now. Trash belongs where trash belongs, right?" "Those were my babies! You broke them and just threw them away?" My stomach cramps up hard, and I double over, cold sweat breaking out across my forehead. "Come on Ryder, quit the drama. This is Mira's bachelorette party, and she's got a surprise planned for me, so stop killing the vibe. She doesn't have time for you anyway, she's busy with the champagne tower." "And those toys of yours? Mira said we could do whatever we wanted with them, so we took them apart and tossed everything. Must be nice being rich enough to own all those collector's editions. Too bad they're scrap metal in a dumpster now. Anyway, good luck with that." I'm furious and panicking at the same time, and my stomach twists so bad I can't even find the words to fight back. At some point, he hangs up. I take whatever the nurse gives me and pass out. When I wake up, sunlight's streaming through the windows and there's a text from Bryan with a photo attached. Blood-stained sheets. "Mira's surprise? Turns out it was her. LOL." That's the wedding suite I set up for Mira. I picked out every piece of furniture, every decoration. She told me she loved pink, so I turned the whole villa into a pink castle. Back in college, when I won that robotics competition, she hugged my project and cried. Happy tears. I don't know when she changed, when she became someone I don't recognize. Maybe it started when Bryan showed up. Maybe before. My phone rings. The bridal shop calls. "Mr. Blackwell, your custom wedding dress and rings are ready for pickup." "Just throw them out. Don't want it anymore."
When I get home from the hospital the next day, I'm expecting the place to still be trashed. But when I push the door open, everything's been cleaned up. Except all my collectible figures and wall art are gone, completely cleared out. Mira's in the kitchen making breakfast like nothing happened. "You're back? I had something come up yesterday so I couldn't visit. How's your stomach feeling?" "Bryan's just being immature. He was joking around with you." I know the difference between a joke and a grown man being deliberately cruel. "He did it on purpose and made my stomach condition worse. Do you even realize I can only eat liquids right now?" Mira frowns and I can already see the impatience on her face. "Enough! Bryan just likes to have fun, why are you being so petty?" I freeze and my stomach starts aching again. "Fine, let's say that was a joke. What about everything in my room? Did you forget that robot model was from our first competition together? The painting on the wall was a birthday gift from my mom before she died." My voice shakes. "Were those all jokes too?" Mira slams the dishes down hard and the crash echoes through the kitchen. "That's all ancient history. You were hoarding all that junk and taking up space. You should be thanking Bryan for cleaning it out. And that worthless painting? Something from a dead person hanging in our house all this time gives me the creeps." The words hit me like a knife to the chest and the pain in my stomach surges up instantly. I grab the doorframe and double over, cold sweat running down my temples. "Mira," I force out through clenched teeth, my voice barely audible, "that was my mom." She acts like she doesn't even see me struggling, and her voice is full of disgust. "So what if it was your mom? She's gone, what's the point of keeping all that garbage? Bryan was trying to help this household, and here you are making a big deal out of it." "That was my stuff. What gives him the right to throw it away?" I can't hold it back anymore, and the words come out choked with tears. "You're being completely unreasonable!" Mira's face flushes red and she points at the door. "Bryan was nice enough to help clean up your place, and instead of being grateful, you're standing here complaining! I swear, that stomach pain has made you lose your mind!" While she's talking, I hear the door lock click. Even the fingerprint reader now recognizes Bryan's print. "Hey, stomach feeling better already? Guess I didn't use enough lube after all." "Bryan!" I lunge forward to grab his arm but Mira blocks me. "What the hell are you doing!" She shoves me backward and I stumble into the wall. The pain in my stomach mixes with the pain in my back, and my vision goes dark for a second. "Bryan was trying to help! Don't be crazy!" I stare at her and suddenly, I'm laughing, even though tears are streaming down my face. All those years together, everything we had, she's throwing it away like garbage. "Forget about him, I made your favorite shrimp bisque." Mira pulls Bryan away and they sit down at my new dining table to eat breakfast. She even pours me a bowl but her tone is still cold. "You should have some too. It'll help settle your stomach." She sets the bowl on the table like I'm some guest in my own home. But she's forgotten that I've been severely allergic to shellfish for years. Back in college, the first thing she ever cooked for me was shrimp bisque. I didn't want to hurt her feelings so I had a bowl. I went into anaphylactic shock right there and almost didn't make it. She was terrified and swore she'd never forget about my allergy again. But today, because Bryan loves it, she's forgotten everything about us. I watch the soup slowly cool down and my heart goes cold right along with it.
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