I gave Isabel a hundred-day grace period before we walked down the aisle. A simple test: if she could go those hundred days without contacting Adrian, her first love, I would forgive her. For ninety-nine days, she was practically perfect. Then came the early hours of the hundredth day. Adrian posted a photo on Instagram: "Afraid I’d have nightmares, she burned someone else’s sacred protection charm just to keep me warm." In the photo, the half-charred red silk pouch was unmistakable. It was the amulet my grandmother had climbed a mountain shrine on her hands and knees to get for me right before she died. The only piece of her I had left in this world. A moment later, a text from Isabel lit up my screen. Eden, the hundred days are up. Wait for me to get home, and we’ll go straight to City Hall. I stared at the words, and a sudden, quiet laugh escaped my chest. It’s over, Isabel. The hundred days. And us. ... "Eden, I’m downstairs. Did you find the paperwork?" Isabel’s voice over the phone was raspy from staying up all night, but there was an unmistakable flutter of excitement in it. I didn't answer right away. I sat on the edge of the sofa, my eyes locked on the picture on my screen. "Hello? Are you there? Did you misplace them since it's been so long?" She let out a soft, teasing laugh. "Don't worry, I'm coming up to help you look. I grabbed those pork buns you love from the bakery on South Street, too." "Don’t bother," I finally said. My voice was entirely flat. "What?" She paused. "I didn’t look for the papers," I said, looking out at the gray, overcast sky pressing down on the city. "And you don't need to come up." Silence stretched over the line for a beat or two, followed by a heavy, familiar sigh. "Eden, are you still upset that I wasn't there to count down the hundredth day with you last night?" "I told you, we had an emergency board meeting. Every executive was there; I couldn't just walk out." "I swear, the moment we sign the papers, I’ll book us a trip to the Maldives to make up for it, okay?" It was always like this. The effortless lies, the endless promises written on empty air. I used to believe her. Now, it just made my stomach turn. "Isabel, were you really in a board meeting last night?" I asked quietly. "Of course! Where else would I be?" Her tone was firm, without a single flicker of hesitation. "I see." I felt a cold smile pull at the corner of my lips. "It must have been freezing in that conference room then. Cold enough that you had to start a fire just to stay warm." The line went dead silent. Her breathing caught sharply. "What... what is that supposed to mean?" Her voice finally trembled. "Nothing." I hung up. Less than three minutes later, the lock clicked open frantically. Isabel burst through the front door, not even pausing to kick off her heels before she rushed toward me. She held a grease-stained paper bag of warm buns, but her eyes were wide with panic. "Eden, what did you mean by that? Did you see something?" She reached out to grab my hand, but I stepped back, letting her fingers grasp empty air. "You smell like smoke," I said, looking at her expensive tweed jacket. "And Adrian’s cologne." Isabel’s face drained of color instantly. Instinctively, she pulled her collar up to sniff it, her lips parting, but no words came out. "No lies left?" I looked at her, my gaze cold. "What happened to the emergency board meeting?" "Eden, let me explain!" She threw the bag of pastries onto the coffee table, her words rushing out. "Adrian called me last night. His power went out, and he was having a massive panic attack. He was crying, alone in the dark." "You know how bad his claustrophobia is. Was I supposed to just leave him there to suffer?" "I only went over to calm him down. I swear, nothing happened between us!" She said it with such righteous conviction. I laughed, a sharp, hollow sound that brought hot tears to the corners of my eyes. "So, your way of calming him down was burning my grandmother's amulet to keep him warm?" She choked on her words, her eyes darting away. "That... that was an accident. He was shaking so badly. I saw the pouch in my car, and I just wanted to give him a little light, something to make him feel safe." "Eden, it’s just a silk pouch. We can get another one. I’ll drive up to the monastery tomorrow, and I’ll walk up those stone steps on my knees to get you a new one myself!" Just a silk pouch. My grandmother had kept her diagnosis a secret, dragging her frail, pain-wracked body up those steep mountain steps just to pray for my safety. Her knees had been raw and bleeding, her skin tearing under her worn trousers. When she returned, she had pressed that little red pouch into my hands with trembling fingers. "Eden, sweetheart, I won't be here to watch over you much longer. Let this keep you safe." It was the only piece of her I had left in the world. And Isabel knew that. I had bared my soul to her about it. I took a deep breath, pointing directly at the door. "The hundred-day grace period is over. You broke the rules. We’re done, Isabel." "Eden, stop being so unreasonable!" Her defensive temper finally flared. "I told you it wasn’t intentional! How long are you going to keep punishing me for this?" I didn't say another word. She gritted her teeth, pointing a finger at me. "Fine. Calm down. I’ll come back when you’ve cooled your head!" She slammed the door so hard the walls vibrated. The apartment fell back into a suffocating, dead silence. I sank onto the sofa, took out my phone, and dialed the number for our real estate agent, Greg. "Hey, Greg, it’s Eden from Emerald Heights." "Yeah, I want to sell the place. As quickly as possible. I'm willing to drop the price, but I need an all-cash offer." Just after I hung up, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Adrian. Hey Eden, Izzy left one of her dresses at my place last night. I washed it, so I can drop it off later? Also, please don't be mad at her about the amulet. She was just worried about me. If it's really that big of a deal, I can Venmo you twenty bucks to buy a new one? I stared at the screen, at the dripping condescension of his words, and let out a dry laugh. Keep it, I replied. Keep the dress, and keep her. You two deserve each other. I blocked his number immediately and cleared our chat history. Looking at the blank screen, an overwhelming wave of relief washed over me. For three years, I had lived as a pathetic side character in their crowded, suffocating relationship. Now, I was finally opting out. By 2:00 PM, Greg arrived with a young couple to view the apartment. Once they left, I started packing. Honestly, I didn’t have much. This apartment was practically a shrine to Isabel and Adrian. In the guest bedroom, there was a velvet throw pillow Adrian had insisted on having. In the bar cabinet, bottles of wine Adrian had shipped from his travels. Even the entryway closet held a pair of slippers bought exclusively for him. I grabbed a couple of heavy-duty cardboard boxes and swept all of it inside. I threw in Isabel’s leftover clothes, her designer makeup, and piled the boxes right by the front door. As evening fell, the doorbell rang. Thinking it was Greg returning for something he’d forgotten, I pulled the door open, only to find Isabel standing there. She was holding a beautifully packaged box from my favorite bakery, a placating smile on her face that said she was entirely confident I would forgive her. "Eden, look. I got you that Black Forest cake you love." She tried to brush past me to get inside, but I barred the doorway. "What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice flat. "I came to apologize, okay? What else do you want from me?" She sighed, her tone carrying that familiar, patronizing indulgence. "Stop acting out. We have to go to City Hall tomorrow." "I made myself clear this morning. We’re over." I didn't move an inch. The easy smile faded from her face. "Eden, do you honestly think threatening to break up with me is funny?" She knitted her brows. "It was a stupid charm. I apologized. You’re blowing this completely out of proportion." "A stupid charm?" I looked her dead in the eye. "That charm was the physical proof of your priorities, Isabel. You always choose him." "I don't choose him!" her voice rose. "Don't lie to yourself," I shot back, stepping forward. "Three years ago, I was hooked up to an IV in the ER with a hundred-and-three-degree fever, and you ran out on me because Adrian’s power went out and he was scared." "Six months ago, we went to get fitted for our wedding attire, and Adrian said he wanted to know what it felt like to be a groom. You let him wear my custom suit, took photos of him, and posted them online." "And when we bought this place, Adrian said he liked the sun-drenched guest room, so you handed it over to him without even asking me!" With every word I spoke, the color drained further from Isabel’s face. "Eden, be reasonable!" She ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "Adrian spent years alone overseas. He just got back and doesn't have any friends here. I'm practically his sister—what's wrong with looking out for him?" "Sister?" I laughed, a bitter sound. "I’ve never met a sister who would sneak off to her brother's house on the eve of her own wedding and burn her fiancé's dead grandmother's keepsake to keep him warm." "I told you, it was an accident!" she screamed. "Too many accidents become a pattern." I pointed at the cardboard boxes resting by the wall. "Take your things and don't come back." Isabel looked down at the box overflowing with her everyday items. For the first time, reality seemed to sink in. She realized I wasn't just throwing a tantrum. "Eden... are you serious?" she asked, her voice tight. "Completely." "Fine! Great!" She laughed, a harsh, angry sound, and kicked the cardboard box hard. Dresses and expensive cosmetics scattered across the floor. "Don't come crying to me when you regret this! Who else do you think is going to put up with your petty, insecure attitude?" "I have to help Adrian unpack tomorrow anyway. I don’t have time for this. When you finally come to your senses, you know where to find me!" She threw the cake box violently onto the floor, turning on her heel to storm toward the elevator. I looked down at the ruined, smashed cake on the ground. "Goodbye, Isabel."
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