Forest Isle
The company organizes a team hike. When it's time to split into groups, I look at Malcolm Ridgeway, the man I've been secretly dating for two years.
I expect him to pick me. Instead, he turns to Savannah Leclair, his childhood friend who just got back from being abroad.
"You tire out easily. Join my group, I'll look out for you."
Savannah links her arm through his like it's the most natural thing in the world. Our coworkers eat it up. "Childhood sweethearts really are something else. Malcolm, you're still single, right? You two would be perfect together."
Malcolm doesn't pull away. He just says, "Yeah, I don't have a girlfriend."
I freeze. Just last night, he holds me and promises he'll tell everyone about us soon. But until the groups are set, he doesn't look at me once.
I end up in the open group and sprain my ankle halfway up the trail. I text him, "Malcolm, I can't walk."
He reads it and doesn't reply. I wait 40 minutes, and the only thing that comes through is a group photo from the summit. He has his arm around Savannah, grinning.
The comments underneath are full of people gushing over them. Someone even tags me, "June, you fell behind? Don't hold us up."
"Even Savannah made it and you couldn't?"
"If you can't keep up, don't come."
So, I walk down the mountain alone.
At the base, Malcolm is calling a car for Savannah. He sees me limping and just frowns. "Didn't I tell you not to message me directly? If a coworker sees it, they'll get the wrong idea."
It hits me all at once. A secret relationship is just a relationship he can deny whenever he wants.
Well, he's getting his wish. He doesn't have a girlfriend anymore.