His Lie

For eight years, Bryan despised my best friend. "What right does she have to comment on our lives? Stay away from her." But then, he was the one who started getting close to her. The engagement ring I’d waited eight years for became his Children’s Day gift to her. When I confronted him through my tears, he just sneered. "Isn’t she your best friend? Why are you being so hypocritical?" 1 Leaving the lab, I scrolled through my social media feed and saw that a senior from my program had gotten engaged. My thumb hovered over the screen for a moment. Finally, I liked the post and sent a screenshot to Bryan. It took him a long time to reply. When he did, it was just two words: "That's nice." I stopped walking. "Are you busy right now?" Another long pause. Then, another message: "Yeah." The carelessness, the indifference—it bled through the screen, even in a single word. "Okay, I won’t bother you then." I had been about to ask him, half-jokingly, "So, when are we getting engaged?" But staring at those two cold messages, the courage I had mustered evaporated. I couldn't bring myself to type a single letter. This was the eighth year of our relationship. I was in my first year of a PhD program. Bryan’s company had just secured over a hundred million in funding. "When do you think he's going to propose?" I had asked my best friend, "Is he just too buried in work to even think about it? Should I drop a hint?" "Absolutely not!" she had insisted, shaking her head. "No girl should ever have to bring that up. It's so desperate." "Just be patient," she’d said, her tone sincere. "You're still in school. Maybe he wants his career to be even more stable before he asks you." 2 On the way home, a sudden downpour started. I didn’t have an umbrella, so I used my textbook as a flimsy shield, dashing for cover. I missed a step, my foot slipped, and I went down hard into a deep puddle. Soaked and limping, I dragged myself under an awning and tried to call Bryan. No answer. I typed out a message: I fell and hurt myself. Can you come get me? Just as I was about to hit send, my eyes drifted to the restaurant across the street. And through the large plate-glass window, I saw him. Bryan. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He was looking at the person across from him with an expression of relaxed, genuine pleasure. Sitting opposite him was my best friend, Stella Lin. She was holding a small, red velvet box. Inside, a pink diamond ring glittered under the restaurant's soft lighting. The rain was a deafening roar, and the glass muffled all sound, but I could read her lips. "Thank you, Bryan. I love it." I stood frozen outside the window, the cold from my soaked dress seeping into my bones. My textbook and all the papers inside were ruined. I started to shiver uncontrollably. Just as a tear was about to fall, Bryan seemed to sense something. He turned his head, and his eyes met mine through the rain-streaked glass. He shot to his feet. "…Jenna." 3 A hostess led me inside. A cello played a mournful, elegant melody. I was a complete mess, and nearly everyone in the restaurant turned to stare. "Jenna, what are you doing here?" Stella asked, her expression perfectly normal. She linked her arm through mine as if nothing was wrong. "I was just telling Bryan that it's Children's Day. I told him he should wrap up this celebration dinner early so he could go home and spend it with you." I stared at her. "Celebration dinner?" "Yes! The company landed a huge contract today, so we were supposed to have a big party. But everyone else had plans, so it was just us two, left all alone." "What's there to celebrate about Children's Day?" Bryan scoffed, a slight frown on his face. "Don't assume Jenna is as childish as you are." Even though she was just an intern at his company, Stella wasn’t intimidated by him at all. She just rolled her eyes. "Right, right. I'm the childish one. You're the mature, all-powerful CEO." Their banter was so familiar, so practiced. It wasn't hostile; it was flirtatious. I blinked away the raindrops clinging to my eyelashes, my gaze locked on Bryan's face. "The ring." "Why did you give her a ring?" He was silent for a moment. "It's Children's Day. It's just a toy for a little girl." I turned to look at Stella. Just for a second, I saw a flicker of a smile in her eyes. It was cold, mocking, and laced with malice. But when I looked again, it was gone, replaced by her usual innocent warmth. "Oh, this?" she said, waving her hand dismissively. "It’s not a real diamond. It’s just a toy." "I confessed to a guy I have a crush on the other day, and he rejected me. I was heartbroken, so Bryan bought this to cheer me up. Right, Bryan?" Something flickered in Bryan’s normally cool, unreadable eyes. But in the end, he just nodded. "Right." There was an undercurrent between them, a shared secret I wasn't privy to. I stood there, my lips pale, my hands twisting the hem of my ruined dress. I couldn't stop the burning sting in my eyes. "…Is that really it?" "Of course it is. I should get going." Stella dropped the ring into her purse. She took a few steps, then turned back, a bright smile on her face. "Happy Children's Day, Jenna." 4 The cello music continued to play. "Who's the guy Stella has a crush on?" I asked. "I don't know." "...I want a ring like that, too." "It's a toy for a little girl. Are you going to whine about that, too? Can't you be a little more mature?" Bryan sat across from me, his eyes glancing at my injured leg. "Have you eaten? Do you want me to take a look at your knee?" I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "Bryan, do you remember?" "In high school, I fell during a relay race. You didn't even ask what happened. You just ran straight to the nurse’s office and came back with disinfectant and bandages." His expression turned cold. "Jenna, what are you trying to say?" What was I trying to say? At sixteen, Bryan had been cool and aloof, but he had been so worried when I got hurt that his face had turned pale. At twenty-six, Bryan was successful and powerful, but sitting in front of me now, he felt like a stranger, an adversary. I dug my nails into my palm, forcing myself to speak calmly. "It's a holiday. You're having dinner alone with another woman, and you gave her a diamond ring. Am I not allowed to ask about it?" "Another woman?" Bryan let out a short, mocking laugh. "When I rejected her resume, who was it that begged me, going on and on about 'my dearest Stella,' insisting that I give her an internship?" "Today, she closed a deal, so we had a celebratory dinner. And now you're starting a fight." "Jenna, when did you become so hypocritical?" My eyes widened in disbelief. Tears instantly blurred my vision. We had been together for eight years, childhood friends for twenty-two. We had been through everything together. At his parents' funeral, he had clung to me, his eyes red, unable to even cry. I had stroked his hair, crying with him, trying to find the words to comfort him. "You still have me," I had whispered. "You still have me." Later, when my own parents divorced and my father took all the money, leaving me with nothing for tuition, he had been the one to step up. "Jenna, you just focus on your studies. I'll take care of the tuition," he had said, his eyes serious. "I'm going to give you a good life." We had navigated so many hardships together, and we had finally made it. I never thought he would ever speak to me like this. "We've been together for eight years, and you've never given me a ring. But you gave one to her." "Am I not allowed to ask?" "Bryan, am I not allowed to ask?!" I was sobbing now, my questions raw with pain. He just looked at me, his expression flat. In the dim corner of the restaurant, under the warm yellow light, I covered my face, my breath catching in my throat. I looked up and saw him glance down at his phone. A dark emotion flickered in his eyes. He quickly turned the screen off when he saw me looking. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He suddenly stood up, towering over me. "Something came up at the office. I have to go." "Since you're not hungry, you can get a cab home." 5 I limped home, the wound on my knee a sticky mess of dirt and blood. As I cleaned it, wincing in pain, tears streamed down my face. It wasn’t always like this between us. When we were kids, I was small and scrawny, an easy target for bullies. He would fight them for me, even when he was outnumbered, swinging his fists even with blood streaming down his face. They were so scared of him that they never bothered me again. In his junior year of college, he started his own company. I was right there with him, running around, meeting with clients. One night, after drinking too much at a business dinner, I ended up in the hospital with acute gastritis. That’s where I met Stella. She was an undergraduate in my department, and we bonded instantly. We became inseparable. At first, she couldn’t stand Bryan. "Jenna, you give so much to him. Does he even deserve it?" she would say. "He's out there building his company, and his girlfriend ends up in the hospital from drinking for him. He's useless." Bryan hated her right back. When I was discharged from the hospital, he went straight to a lawyer and had half the company shares transferred to my name. "What right does she have to judge us?" he had said. "Stay away from her." I was never one for confrontation, so I tried to play peacemaker, but it was no use. I remember one time, I was at a nail salon with Stella and missed a call from him. He drove all the way there in a rainstorm and stood outside the door, his voice like ice. "Jenna. Come here." Stella, admiring her freshly painted nails, had just smirked. "What, does he need you to go get drunk for his pathetic little company again?" Back then, they were mortal enemies. Then, in Stella's senior year, she needed an internship. By then, I was in my second year of my master's program, and Bryan's company was doing very well. She wanted to work for him. She clung to my arm, whining and pleading. "Bryan's company is in an emerging industry. It's a perfect match for my major." "And, Jenna," she’d added with a wink, "I can keep an eye on him for you. Make sure he's not getting too friendly with any of his female employees." I had just laughed and patted her hand. "That's not going to happen. We've been together for five years. We're solid." That night, I brought it up with Bryan. He was reading a contract under the lamplight. He just chuckled mockingly. "Stella Lin?" "Tell her to send her resume to HR." But Stella had failed a class, and her resume was immediately screened out. She sat across from me, chewing on her bubble tea straw, her eyes red. "I was going through a rough time then. Bryan knows that. Why is he being so strict?" "I'm his girlfriend's best friend!" That night, I went home and pleaded with him. "Stella really wants to work for you, Bryan. Please? It's just a three-month internship. Her family is well-off, she probably has other plans. She might not even stay after graduation." He had looked at me then, a strange, dark emotion swirling in his eyes. "Are you sure?" I nodded and threw my arms around him. "Bryan, you're the best." But I was wrong. Stella's performance during her internship was outstanding. After graduation, she was offered a full-time position. And she had been there ever since. 6 After cleaning my knee, I threw away the pile of bloody, dirty tissues. I hesitated, then called Bryan. He didn't answer. An hour later, he called back. When I answered, there was only silence on the other end, punctuated by the sound of his slightly ragged breathing. "So," I asked softly, "are we breaking up?" "Jenna, are you crazy?" His reaction was immediate, his voice sharp with accusation. "We have one little fight, and you threaten to break up with me? When did you become so unreasonable?" Tears instantly welled in my eyes. I remembered a time, a year into our relationship, when we’d had another fight. I had glared at him, my eyes red, and said, "If you're not happy with me, we can just break up." He had pulled me into a tight hug, his voice filled with panic. "I'm never unhappy with you." "Jenna, we're just fighting. You can't say that to me." And now… this. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I said nothing, just quietly ended the call. When I woke up, the rain had stopped. The apartment was empty. Bryan hadn't come home. Probably from being out in the rain last night, my throat felt like it had been seared with a hot poker. My stomach was cramping violently. I forced down a couple of pills and headed to the university. We didn't speak for three days. Then, one afternoon in the cafeteria, I got a text from Stella. "Jenna, where are you? I'll come have lunch with you." 7 "Did you and Bryan have a fight? Jenna, don't be mad. He didn't mean it." Stella sat across from me in the crowded cafeteria. "The company lost a big contract a while back because of a leak," she explained. "He's been really stressed, that's why he snapped at you." My eyes fell to her hand, to the delicate, pale fingers adorned with the pink diamond ring. My throat felt tight. I swallowed hard and said, my voice low, "...He never told me." Stella's eyes crinkled at the corners. "You're so busy with your studies. He probably didn't want to bother you." But why did you know? As if she could read my mind, Stella just smiled. "Jenna, did you forget? I work at his company. Of course I know what's going on." She laughed, then glanced down at her phone as it lit up. "Looks like you're done eating. Let's go." Just outside the cafeteria, a familiar black Porsche was parked. I froze. I watched as Bryan got out of the car, his expression neutral as he looked in our direction. His gaze flickered past Stella's beaming face and landed on me. "Bryan, I brought Jenna out," Stella said cheerfully. "I've got to run." Bryan frowned. "Where are you going?" Stella stopped and turned back to him, her eyes crinkling into a smile. "The guy who rejected me the other day suddenly wants to talk. I'm on my way to meet him now." With that, she walked away without a backward glance. Bryan's jaw tightened, his expression unreadable but dark. When I got into the car, I could still feel the waves of his displeasure radiating through the small space. 8 "Are you still angry?" After I asked, Bryan turned to look at me, as if snapping out of a trance. "No." He said it flatly, then started the car. The silence in the car was heavy, strange. My eyes darted around, then stopped on something glittering in the corner of the passenger seat. It was a small, crystal-encrusted hair clip, catching the sunlight from the window. A Miu Miu hair clip. The one Stella always wore. A wave of something dark and formless surged through me, a thick, viscous liquid that seemed to suffocate my heart. I clenched my fist, the sharp edges of the clip digging into my palm. I took a couple of deep breaths, trying to keep my voice steady. "Has… has Stella been in your car?" "She said she was coming to see you," he said, his voice clipped. "I gave her a ride." Then why was she in the passenger seat? And under what circumstances would her hair clip fall off, and she wouldn't even notice it was gone? My voice trembled. "Bryan." "What now?" He glanced at me, his impatience obvious. "Do you know the guy Stella likes? Does he… does he really exist?" The light turned red. Bryan slammed on the brakes. He turned to face me. "Jenna, are you starting with the paranoia again?" he said, his voice cold. "Isn't she your best friend? If you're so suspicious, why don't you just ask her?" "Can't I ask you?" My eyes were red. "Bryan, you're the one who gave her a ring, using her supposed rejection as an excuse. Is it wrong for me to ask you about it?" "So that's what this is about. You just want jewelry, don't you?" The light turned green. Bryan stepped on the gas, changing lanes and heading for the nearest shopping mall. He strode ahead, pulling me by the wrist into a high-end jewelry store. "Since you're so jealous, why don't you just pick one for yourself?" The bright lights of the store glinted off the gems in the display cases. The sales associates, sensing the icy tension between us, hesitated to approach. A wave of exhaustion and despair washed over me. I had dreamed of this moment, of coming to a place like this with Bryan to choose our wedding rings, countless times. I remembered when we were in college, working part-time jobs, we had walked past this very store. We had pressed our faces against the glass, staring at the price tags. In the end, we had only been able to afford a simple pair of silver rings. Bryan had squeezed my hand, his voice thick with emotion. "Jenna, when we make it, I'm going to buy you the most expensive ring in this store." I had just smiled and squeezed his hand back. "But I don't even like the expensive ones." "As long as it's from you, it's perfect."

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