Zora
For seven years I dated my brother's best friend, Kane Walker, in secret, and I planned to propose to him the night he won the championship.
I followed the location Kane had shared with me on Life360 to the team's private lounge. Outside the door, I heard a teammate ask him, "Lillian is coming back. What are you going to do about that plus-size stand-in you keep at home?"
Kane idly swirled his glass.
"She can't control what she eats. Whose fault is that? These days, one look at the rolls of fat all over her body makes me lose my appetite."
Someone laughed. "You don't like her? You touch the bracelet she gave you before every game, and no matter how late a road game ends, you still go home. Weren't you the one who fed her until she weighed two hundred pounds because you were afraid somebody would take her?"
The next day Kane took me to Lillian's welcome dinner and piled my plate with desserts in front of everyone.
For the first time, I pushed his hand away. "I'm not eating that."
But when Lillian left with reddened eyes, he rushed after her so recklessly that he knocked into a server and sent an entire tureen of scalding soup spilling over me.
I came home with the burns and, for the first time, opened the trophy room he had never let me enter.
On the wall, a photo of Lillian looked almost exactly like the slim, pretty girl I had been when I was younger.
I took off the ring I had meant to give him and called my brother.
"The arranged marriage. I'm saying yes. Set the wedding for a month from now."