Signs You'Re Being Treated Like A Doormat By Friends

Three years into her marriage to Caleb Hampton, Sydney Wilson finally learned the truth: the woman he loved was his sister-in-law. On the night his brother died, Sydney saw Caleb's true nature. At the funeral, she did not even flinch when Caleb took a slap meant for his sister-in-law. She always knew he had married her because she was quiet, obedient, and easy to control. She proved it, even in the way she left him. No dramatic fights. No tearful confrontations. Just a divorce quietly signed, sealed, and hidden. What Caleb didn't know was that they were already divorced. Sydney had stopped being quiet and was already seeing someone else. The day Sydney's breakthrough cancer drug took the world by storm, she received accolades and glory. Everyone cheered—except Caleb, who dropped to one knee, his eyes bloodshot with desperation, begging for a second chance. But a possessive arm wrapped around Sydney's waist, declaring to the world, "Sorry, but she's getting married. To me."

I watched my mate thrust into his female best friend he told me I didn't have to worry about. So I left and now he wants me. How do you get over that?

My boyfriend's "best female friend" was angry again. Why? Because for our five-year anniversary, he got a gift just for me—and forgot about hers. Simone Baker threw a complete fit, sobbing and making a huge scene. Scott Tanner immediately blocked me and removed me on Instagram, then changed our matching couple profile pictures. "Girls can be so dramatic," he said. "Once I've calmed her down, we'll switch them back." I reminded him, "That makes a hundred times now." He just smiled and gave me a quick kiss. "I know. I'll make it fast this time." That night, Simone posted a status update: [Your effort was acceptable. You get three days of freedom.] Almost immediately, Scott unblocked me. [Okay, babe. We can put our couple pictures back now.] But then a male account—using my half of the matching photo—sent him a friend request, followed by a single question mark. [Since when are couple photos a group project?]

Hayden Jenkins, the driver whom I've recruited, often brings his girlfriend, Casey Sloan, along whenever he drives me to the company. Seeing as Casey's destination is just along the way, I don't bother commenting about it. But one time, when I open the car door, I see a note being pasted to the back seat. It says, "Car moochers aren't allowed in this car." I rip the note off the seat and ask Hayden, "What's the meaning of this?" Casey glares at me from the front passenger seat. She snaps at me, "Don't you know how to read? Every day, you keep mooching off my boyfriend's car! Seriously, are you this shameless? If you can't afford a ride, then don't ever leave your house! I hate car moochers like you the most!" I'm confused, to say the least. That's when Hayden jogs toward me and mumbles to me, "Ms. Gray, Casey doesn't know that I work as your driver. She's rather possessive, and she only sticks this note on the back seat out of her love toward me. "By the way, Casey really doesn't like sharing the car with you. I'll drop her off first. After that, I'll come back for you." After that, Hayden drives my car away. I remain rooted to the same spot, though I'm quick to call the police. "Hello. A man and a woman have stolen my car. Please dispatch an officer as soon as possible."

There's a running joke in my circle about the biggest doormats around, and I've topped that list for years. Turns out there's something even sadder than being a doormat: getting your wedding banquet canceled ten times by your fiancée. The first time, Melissa Ferguson had to stay behind and nurse her childhood friend, who'd taken a bad fall. The second time, her childhood friend was starting his first day of work, and Melissa couldn't stop worrying about him. ... The tenth time, her childhood friend got into it with a client at work, and Melissa tore off her veil and bolted out the door without a second thought. The wedding guests openly mocked me and turned the whole thing into a joke again. But I'd already made a decision. I'd go after my own goals from now on. No more wedding. Melissa and I were done. She went her way, and I'd go mine. One day, I walked straight out to the car waiting outside and went to make something of my life.

For over a decade, Zach Rivera has been my best friend, the man who always had my back and the only person I trusted completely. Until the night he pinned me against the wall of his gym after hours and kissed me like he was starving. I Noah Sinclair at 29, was a successful interior designer who creates beautiful spaces for other people but can barely handle the chaos in my own head, can’t stop replaying how Zach’s rough hands felt on my body. Zach is dangerous, not just because he destroys men in the underground fighting cage, but because of the way he looks at me now, like he wants to own every moan that comes out of my mouth, every gasp and every inch of me. He’s always been possessive, but now it’s getting out of hand. He wants to bend me over every surface, mark me, ruin me for anyone else. And the worst part? I’m starting to crave the pain and pleasure only he can give. Our friendship is on the line, same as our carer, rumors are spreading through our tight-knit circle. His jealous ex is stirring up trouble, and every stolen touch makes it harder to pretend we’re just friends. Best friends shouldn’t crave each other like this. Best friends shouldn’t fuck like this. But Zach doesn’t care about “shouldn’t.” And neither do I anymore... at this point... f*ck it