Gabriel called again while I was still sitting in the emergency room.

I watched his name light up my screen.

Twentieth call.

Then twenty-first.

I declined both.

A minute later, a message appeared.

“Nora, answer me. This has gone too far.”

I stared at those words for several seconds.

Too far.

Apparently canceling our wedding was going too far.

Nearly sending me into anaphylactic shock was a joke.

Publicly admitting he wished he had met my best friend first was just honesty hidden behind an anonymous-looking comment.

But me deciding I no longer wanted to marry him?

That was unacceptable.

I turned my phone face down.

The doctor discharged me shortly after midnight with strict instructions to rest and return immediately if my symptoms came back.

When the automatic doors opened, Gabriel was waiting outside.

So was Sienna.

Gabriel stood first.

“Nora.”

He looked terrible.

His hair was messy, his shirt wrinkled, and his face was pale.

Sienna sat several feet away with her arms wrapped around herself.

The second she saw me, she started crying.

“Nora, I’m so sorry.”

I walked past them.

Gabriel caught up.

“Can you stop for one second?”

“No.”

“We need to talk.”

“We needed to talk before you decided my allergy was entertainment.”

“It wasn’t my idea.”

I stopped.

Gabriel did too.

Behind him, Sienna’s crying suddenly became quieter.

I looked at him.

“What?”

He rubbed a hand over his face.

“The chili in the rice was Sienna’s idea.”

Sienna stood immediately.

“Gabriel!”

He turned toward her.

“You said she’d notice immediately.”

“You agreed!”

“I didn’t know she could stop breathing!”

I listened to them argue over which one was less responsible for almost killing me.

And strangely, that was the moment something inside me became completely calm.

Not when I saw his comment.

Not when my throat started closing.

Not even when I canceled the wedding.

Now.

Because neither of them was asking whether I was okay.

They were trying to divide the blame.

I stepped between them.

“Enough.”

They both fell silent.

I looked at Sienna first.

“You knew about my allergy.”

Her face crumpled.

“I thought it was mild.”

“You’ve known me for fourteen years.”

“I know, but—”

“You were with me when I had a reaction at seventeen.”

She froze.

I remembered that day perfectly.

So did she.

My mother had driven us to the hospital.

Sienna had sat beside me crying because she thought I was going to die.

Now she whispered:

“I forgot.”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“You didn’t forget.”

“You decided it wasn’t serious because taking it seriously would ruin your joke.”

She couldn’t answer.

Then I looked at Gabriel.

“And you.”

His jaw tightened.

“Nora, I know I screwed up.”

“That isn’t what I’m talking about.”

I took out my phone.

Opened the screenshot.

Turned it toward him.

For the first time that night, Gabriel looked genuinely frightened.

His eyes moved across the screen.

Then stopped on the avatar.

Sienna stepped closer.

“What is that?”

Gabriel said nothing.

I read his comment aloud.

“‘She is prettier, has a better body, dresses better and seems superior to me in almost everything.’”

Sienna’s face slowly changed.

I continued.

“‘If I had met her before, I probably wouldn’t have wasted so many years with my current girlfriend.’”

“Nora—”

“Did you write it?”

Gabriel looked at me.

There were a hundred answers he could have given.

He chose the worst one.

“I was frustrated.”

Sienna stared at him.

“What?”

Gabriel immediately turned to her.

“It didn’t mean anything.”

I laughed.

That made both of them look at me.

“Interesting.”

I slipped my phone back into my bag.

“When you’re talking to me, it was frustration.”

“When you’re looking at her, it didn’t mean anything.”

“Nora, listen—”

“No. You listen.”

I pointed toward Sienna.

“You spent years comparing me to her in your head.”

His face hardened.

“You don’t know that.”

“You wrote that marrying me meant wasting years because you didn’t meet her first.”

“I didn’t say marrying you—”

“You said girlfriend. Congratulations on the technicality.”

Sienna suddenly spoke.

“Gabriel, do you have feelings for me?”

Silence.

Gabriel looked at her.

Then at me.

That hesitation lasted perhaps two seconds.

It was enough.

Sienna stepped backward.

“Oh my God.”

He reached toward me.

I moved away.

“Nora, I chose you.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

“Then why do I feel like I just won a competition I never entered?”

His mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

I turned toward the parking lot.

He followed.

“What about Saturday?”

I kept walking.

“What about it?”

“Our wedding.”

“There is no wedding.”

“You can’t cancel everything three days before because of one stupid night.”

I stopped beside my car.

“One night?”

I looked at him.

“This morning I thought I was marrying someone who loved me.”

“Tonight I discovered you’re publicly fantasizing about having chosen my best friend instead.”

“You helped her test whether my allergy was real.”

“You laughed while I couldn’t breathe.”

“And now your biggest concern is whether the venue still has our reservation.”

His face went white.

“Nora, please.”

“I accepted London.”

That stopped him.

Completely.

“What?”

“My transfer.”

His eyes widened.

“The one you said you weren’t taking?”

“The one I said I wouldn’t take because we were getting married.”

He stared at me.

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“For how long?”

“Minimum three years.”

Sienna inhaled sharply behind us.

Gabriel looked as though the ground had disappeared under him.

“You can’t just move to another country.”

“I can.”

“What about our apartment?”

“Your apartment.”

“The furniture?”

“Keep it.”

“The wedding deposits?”

“I’ll cover the cancellation fees that are legally mine.”

“Nora.”

His voice cracked.

“What about me?”

That question almost hurt.

Almost.

I opened the car door.

“You’ll finally have the opportunity you regretted missing.”

His eyes flicked involuntarily toward Sienna.

She saw it.

So did I.

And suddenly Sienna looked disgusted.

Not with me.

With him.

“I don’t want him,” she said.

Gabriel turned.

“Sienna, nobody asked you.”

Her expression changed.

“Excuse me?”

“This isn’t about you.”

She laughed bitterly.

“You literally made it about me.”

I got into my car.

Gabriel grabbed the top of the door before I could close it.

“Please don’t leave like this.”

I looked at his hand.

“Move.”

“Nora—”

“Move your hand.”

Something in my voice finally reached him.

He let go.

I closed the door.

The last thing I saw before driving away was Gabriel standing beneath the hospital lights while Sienna walked in the opposite direction.

For fourteen years, she had been my best friend.

For seven years, he had been the man I loved.

In less than twelve hours, I had lost them both.

And somehow, I could breathe better than I had in months.

The next two days passed in a blur.

Boxes.

Documents.

Calls.

Cancellation fees.

My mother cried when I told her.

Not because the wedding was canceled.

Because she had seen the screenshot.

My father asked only one question.

“Do you want me to come with you to London?”

I nearly cried then.

“No, Dad.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then call when you land.”

That was all.

No lecture.

No questions about embarrassment.

No asking whether seven years were worth throwing away.

Because apparently my father understood something Gabriel never had.

Seven years already spent were not a reason to sacrifice another seventy.

By Friday night, almost everything was ready.

My flight left Saturday afternoon.

At 11:43 p.m., someone knocked on my apartment door.

I knew who it was before I opened it.

Gabriel stood there.

But this time he wasn’t angry.

He was holding a small velvet box.

My engagement ring box.

The ring itself was still on my dresser.

I had taken it off after leaving the hospital.

He looked past me and saw the suitcases.

His face collapsed.

“You’re really going.”

“Yes.”

He swallowed.

Then held out his phone.

“I deleted the comment.”

I stared at him.

He actually seemed to think that mattered.

“Okay.”

“And I blocked Sienna.”

That surprised me.

Not because I cared.

Because he said it like he expected a reward.

“I never wanted her, Nora.”

“You regretted not meeting her first.”

“That isn’t the same thing.”

“It is to me.”

He stepped closer.

“I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Getting married.”

I waited.

He looked down.

“And I started wondering whether I was making the right choice.”

Finally.

Something honest.

“So you compared me to my best friend.”

“I compared everything.”

“Her face?”

He closed his eyes.

“Nora.”

“Her body?”

“Stop.”

“Her clothes?”

“I said stop.”

“No.”

My voice remained quiet.

“You got to write those things about me where thousands of strangers could read them.”

“You don’t get embarrassed now because I repeat them to your face.”

His eyes filled with tears.

“I love you.”

Maybe he did.

That was the tragedy.

Sometimes love existed beside selfishness.

Beside cruelty.

Beside cowardice.

And love did not magically erase them.

“I believe you,” I said.

He looked up, startled.

Then hope appeared on his face.

I destroyed it with my next sentence.

“But I don’t want the kind of love you give.”

He stood completely still.

I removed the apartment key from my keychain and placed it in his palm.

“Goodbye, Gabriel.”

His fingers closed around it.

“Nora…”

I shut the door.

The next morning should have been my wedding day.

Instead, at the exact hour I was supposed to be walking down the aisle, I was sitting beside an airport window with a boarding pass to London in my hand.

My phone vibrated.

One message.

Not Gabriel.

Sienna.

“I know you probably never want to speak to me again. But there’s something about Gabriel you need to know before you leave.”

I almost deleted it.

Then another message arrived.

A screenshot.

My blood went cold.

It wasn’t from three days ago.

It was dated eleven months earlier.

A conversation between Gabriel and Sienna.

And the first message was from my fiancé.

“If Nora weren’t in the picture, would you ever give me a chance?”

I stared at the screen.

Then I looked at the departure board.

BOARDING.

Apparently Gabriel’s biggest regret hadn’t begun with one viral comment.

And suddenly I needed to know how long my best friend had been lying to me too.