It was set up for mine.
My breath caught in my throat as I scanned the room. A huge banner hung over the beautifully arranged tables, glistening in gold letters: CONGRATULATIONS, RYAN & EMILY!
Emily. My name.
I stumbled back, my mind racing. This has to be a mistake. It has to be some kind of cruel joke.
Just then, Sophie walked in, her face lighting up when she saw me. “Oh, you’re early!” she said, smiling like nothing was wrong.
I stared at her. “What… what is this?” My voice barely came out.
Sophie’s smile faltered. “Oh.” She glanced at the banner, then back at me. “Emily, I was going to tell you…”
My stomach twisted. Tell me what?
Then the doors opened, and in walked Ryan. My Ryan. My boyfriend of three years.
His eyes widened when he saw me. “Emily,” he breathed, guilt flashing across his face.
The room started spinning. “No. No, this isn’t happening,” I whispered.
Sophie bit her lip, her eyes darting to Ryan. “We didn’t plan for you to find out like this. I mean, not this way—”
“You were going to tell me?” I choked out. “You were going to tell me after I spent weeks planning your—no, my—engagement party?”
Ryan ran a hand through his hair. “Emily, I—”
“Save it,” I snapped, my voice suddenly stronger. “How long?”
Sophie and Ryan exchanged a look. That look. The kind that screamed secrets, whispers, betrayal.
Sophie swallowed hard. “Almost a year.”
The words hit me like a freight train. A year. An entire year of lies.
Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I refused to break in front of them. I forced a laugh—sharp, bitter. “You know what’s funny?” I said, shaking my head. “I actually thought I had a best friend. I actually thought I had a boyfriend. Turns out, I had neither.”
Ryan stepped forward, reaching for me. “Emily, please—”
I stepped back. “Don’t.” My voice was cold. “I don’t need an explanation. I just need to leave.”
And with that, I turned on my heel and walked out of the venue—out of their lives—without looking back.