Taking Back My Life After My Fiancé And Best Friend Destroyed Me Chapter 01
The Ultimate Betrayal
My best friend finally wanted a wedding—the groom was my boyfriend of eight years.
Maya and I were total opposites. She’d run from seven engagements in three years—the queen of commitment issues. Me? Eight years with Ethan, the most stable couple anyone knew. The girl most likely to get married next.
Until tonight.
Maya grabs my hands across the bar table, mascara running down her cheeks. “I think I’ve lost my mind. I actually want to get married. He makes me so happy, Chloe. I’ve never felt like this before.”
I squeeze her fingers and smile. “Then do it. I’ll always support you.”
She nods hard, pulls out her phone, and dials.
A man’s voice comes through the speaker. Warm. Familiar. Too familiar.
“Hey, dummy. Look up. I knew you’d get wasted, so I’ve been watching you from the table up front.”
I almost smile. Out of habit. I turn with Maya to look.
And I see him.
Ethan. My boyfriend. The man I’ve loved for eight years. The man I was about to marry.
He’s already walking toward us, eyes locked on Maya.
The girl who swore she’d never settle down had already found her person.
And my perfect love story was just me talking to myself.
My wine glass slams onto the table. Ethan doesn’t flinch. He scoops Maya into his arms and says to me, calm as anything: “Let’s go home. I can explain.”
Eight years. Maybe I should slap him. Maybe I should scream. But eight years—that’s a quarter of my life. How do you just rip that away?
My eyes sting. I get in the car.
The second Maya’s in the passenger seat, her phone connects to the Bluetooth. A perky female voice chirps through the speakers:
*”Maya connected. Love songs ready, babe?”*
I sit frozen in the backseat. This is the first time I’ve ever been in Ethan’s car.
He always said I couldn’t ride in his car because he used it for work and didn’t want clients smelling perfume in it. Even when I promised not to wear any, he’d just laugh and say, “Babe, your perfume always sticks around.”
But now the whole car reeks of Maya’s liquor and her rose perfume, and Ethan hasn’t even wrinkled his nose.
Tears fall onto my hands before I can stop them.
I can’t confront him. I’m terrified of the answer. Part of me wants to pretend tonight is just a bad dream.
But dreams end.
Maya mumbles, “Ethan…” and leans over to kiss him while he’s driving. He gently peels her hands off and murmurs, “Behave.”
I can’t breathe.
Ethan is a clean freak. He won’t let anyone touch him without hand sanitizer—not even me. I’ve been pushed away for trying to hold his hand without washing first.
I look down at my own hands. I can still smell the rubbing alcohol I used before getting in. Mixed with the liquor fumes in this car, it makes me want to vomit.
I crack the window. Fresh air. I need fresh air.
Ethan hits the button and the window slides shut. He glances back at me, annoyed. “Maya just drank. The cold air could make her sick.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “Wow. You actually know how to care about someone.”
His jaw tightens. “Don’t be passive-aggressive. I said I’d explain.”
Then it happens fast.
Maya lunges for Ethan again, grabbing at his face. A car swerves to pass us on the right. Ethan yanks the wheel hard left—and the back of our car clips the other vehicle.
The impact throws me sideways. Glass shatters. My head slams into the frame. Blood runs warm down my temple.
But the pain in my skull is nothing compared to what I’m feeling.
Ethan checks Maya first. Then he looks at me in the rearview. “Can you walk?”
I stare at him. Blood dripping into my eye.
He gets out, opens my door, and says: “Take Maya to the ER. Make sure she’s okay.”
I touch the gash on my forehead. My fingers come back red.
“Ethan. Are you blind?” My voice shakes. “Look at me. Look at my face. And you have the nerve to say that?”
He stares at me, stunned. In eight years, I’ve never once talked back.
His eyes go hard. “Don’t say things you’ll regret. Someone could be seriously hurt.”
He shuts the door.
I drag myself out. I help Maya to the curb. I flag down a cab.
And the second we’re inside, Maya’s voice comes through—stone cold sober.
“You saw it for yourself, Chloe.”
I turn to look at her. Not a trace of drunkenness on her face.
“So. Are you done standing in my way?”
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