My Boyfriend Slept With My Best Friend, I Left Them Both Behind

After wrapping up a three-month academic tour across Europe, I landed in Chicago. The first thing I did was head to my boyfriend Graham's place to retrieve the key card to my apartment that I'd left in his car.

His black Jeep sat quietly downstairs. A pink and silver friendship bracelet dangled from the center console, its knots tied crooked and uneven. That was the work of my best friend, Maya. She always said those knots weren't pretty, but they were the strongest kind, the hardest to come undone.

The memory of my departure three months ago was still vivid. Maya had hugged me tight, her eyes crinkling into a smile, promising to make a big pot of mac and cheese when I got back. Graham stood beside her, teasing her about her love for greasy, salty food, while he quietly straightened my scattered travel documents and reminded me not to bury myself in academics overseas and to eat properly.

Back then, I never once thought to guard myself against either of them.

I stood beside the car, my fingertips going cold, and sent the exact same message to both of them: Tonight, seven o'clock. My apartment.

Graham replied instantly: We need to talk.

Maya's chat went silent for a long time. In the end, she sent back a single, flat word: Okay.

At seven sharp, both of them showed up. Graham was still in his suit, clearly having rushed over straight from surgery. Maya wore one of my old sweaters, a bag of toiletries in her hand. That sweater was the one I'd given her the first winter she escaped Derek and stayed at my place.

I skipped the pleasantries and got straight to the point.

"Maya, come with me. Pack your things right now and go to a hotel or my vacant apartment. We'll deal with everything else tomorrow."

She looked up at me, her face drained of all color.

"Elena." Graham frowned and cut in to stop me.

My gaze didn't waver from Maya. "I'm talking to her."

Maya's eyes slowly drifted toward Graham, and his were locked on her. After a few seconds of silence, she stepped forward and planted herself firmly at his side. Graham reached out and closed his hand around hers without a moment's hesitation.

"We'd both been drinking that night," Graham broke the silence first, his voice low and hoarse. "Things got out of hand."

I stared at him, every word deliberate. "Just once?"

He said nothing. His silence was answer enough.

Maya shook her head beside him, her voice trembling. "No."

A sharp cramp seized my stomach, and everything inside me clenched tight. I reached out and gripped the edge of the dining table to steady myself. Almost on instinct, Maya opened her bag and pulled out a roll of colorful candy, holding it out to me.

"You look terrible. Have some candy. It'll help."

I lowered my eyes to the familiar roll of candy, and something inside me went cold. For as long as I could remember, she'd always split her candy with me. During my night shifts, when my blood sugar dropped, she'd slip these same candies into the pocket of my white coat. She remembered every little thing about me, and she'd still chosen to betray me.

"Don't touch me." My voice came out stripped of all warmth.

Her hand froze in midair, and hot tears spilled down her cheeks without warning.

Graham stepped forward, trying to smooth over the damage with an offer. "My father can hold one of this year's attending physician slots for you."

"So I'm supposed to take this handout as compensation for what you did?" I cut him off, my eyes full of contempt. "Whatever position I want, I'll earn on my own. I don't need charity from anyone."

His voice carried a helpless resignation. "I just want to make it up to you."

"This isn't making it up to me." I looked him straight in the eye, tearing apart the excuse he'd wrapped himself in. "You just see me as someone who can be bought off, someone you can settle things with by cutting a deal."

I turned to Maya, tears streaming down her face, my tone ice-cold. "And you. You knew full well that he and I hadn't broken up, and you didn't hesitate for a second to stand by his side."

Looking at the two of them, it felt as though I were the intruder.

"I'm done with both of you from now on."

Graham tried to step closer. "You need to calm down. We made a mistake, that's all. Why do you have to take it this far?"

I shoved him back, grabbed a glass from the table, and smashed it onto the floor. The crack of shattering glass tore through the silence.

"Get out."

They left, eventually.

I dragged my suitcase to the center of the living room and began clearing out everything that carried a trace of the past. The vinyl records I'd brought back from overseas for Graham. The handmade cookies I'd brought back for Maya. The Polaroid photos from our trips together. The blanket Graham and I had bought when we moved in together. Every last item stained with memory went into a donation box.

A photograph slipped from a hidden pocket and landed on the floor. It was taken after we'd driven overnight to Missouri to bring Maya home. Her face still bore fading bruises; Graham and I had bruises of our own. All three of us were grinning at the camera without a care in the world.

The photo was still intact, but the three of us could never go back. Friendship and love had shattered in the same moment. The stomach cramps kept worsening. I curled up in the corner of the sofa, engulfed by exhaustion and a bitter ache, and fell into a heavy sleep.