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I crossed a line with my best friend after a night of too many drinks. The next morning, he sat shirtless at the edge of the bed, frowning as he smoked a cigarette. When I saw the regret on his face, I quickly said, "Look, we're both adults here. Last night doesn't have to mean anything. I'm not expecting any commitments or anything." He looked relieved. "Good, because... I actually have a girlfriend." I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. "A girlfriend?" "Yeah," he said seriously. "I'm planning to bring her home for Christmas this year." His eyes held mine. "When you meet her, you know what to say and what not to say, right? We're cool?" Chapter 1: The Morning After After a moment of silence, I forced my lips into a smile. "Of course we're cool. That's what best friends are for, right?" Jake looked satisfied as he stubbed out his cigarette and got up to dress. Morning sunlight streamed through the window, highlighting his perfectly sculpted body as he moved. His broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, with abs that looked like they were carved from marble. The V-line at his hips disappeared tantalizingly into his boxer briefs, and his biceps flexed subtly with every movement. "That's my girl," he said with a smirk. "Don't worry about it. I've got this buddy who's just as hot as me. I'll set you two up." Before leaving, he turned back at the door. "Hey Autumn, remember how we promised that whoever found true love first, the other would be happy for them? You'll be happy for me, right?" I kept smiling like my face would crack. "Obviously. When you two get married, I'll give you the biggest damn gift at your wedding." He flashed that heart-melting grin and left. After he was gone, I picked up his half-smoked cigarette and lit it, taking a deep drag. I've never been good at smoking—Jake had tried to teach me several times, but I always ended up coughing my lungs out. This time was no different. The smoke burned my throat raw, making me double over in a coughing fit until my eyes watered and my vision blurred. How many years had I been secretly in love with Jake? Seven years now, I think. Last night had been like any other night out—dinner, too many tequila shots, and then... I'm not sure who made the first move, but suddenly the air between us changed. His gentle touch in my hair gave way to something more urgent, our years of restraint dissolving in the dim light of his apartment. We moved like dancers finding a new rhythm together, each touch writing poetry on skin. In those intimate moments, I'd whispered his name as years of dreams crystallized into reality. The connection had been everything I'd imagined—two souls finding their way to each other through the darkness, until we both finally drifted away on waves of shared bliss, breathless and content. When I woke up this morning, my nervous excitement shattered instantly when I saw his furrowed brow. The pleasant soreness between my thighs suddenly felt meaningless compared to the ache in my chest. Forcing a casual tone, I'd said those words: "Look, we're both adults here. It was just sex." I watched as Jake visibly relaxed, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. "Good," he'd said. I always thought Jake had some feelings for me. Apart from not having the official title of a couple, we'd done practically everything couples do. He hated dorm life, so throughout our four years of college, I'd take the train almost every weekend to visit him, cleaning his off-campus apartment. We'd grocery shop together, cook together, curl up on the couch playing video games together. His arm always found its way around my shoulders during movie nights, and sometimes he'd absentmindedly play with my hair. He was always good to me, bringing me gifts from wherever he went, remembering my birthday and every holiday, never missing a single one in all these years. After so long, I'd fallen into the delusion that we were just one confession away from a beautiful future together. Turns out, it was all in my head. I used to wonder why so many people were addicted to nicotine. Now I understand. Nicotine doesn't bring pleasure; it just makes the pain a little more bearable. That day, I taught myself to smoke without anyone showing me how. Chapter 2: The Perfect Match Christmas Eve came the next day, and as usual, my family went to Jake's house for dinner. Our families were close—especially my mom and Jake's mom, who had been best friends since middle school. Since both sets of grandparents had passed away, our families always spent Christmas together. When I walked in, I stopped dead in my tracks. At the dinner table, next to Jake, sat a girl in a white cashmere turtleneck. Her long, glossy black hair fell perfectly down her back, not a strand out of place. She was so naturally gorgeous she could have walked straight off a magazine cover. "Who's this?" my mom asked, surprised. "This is Olivia. Olivia Bennett, Jake's girlfriend," his mother introduced with a beaming smile. "After years of me nagging him, he finally brings a girl home! Thank God. I was starting to think this stubborn son of mine would die alone!" Jake smiled at me like nothing had changed. "Come sit. Mom made your favorite honey-glazed chicken wings. No one's going to fight you for them this time—you can have the whole plate if you want." I hesitated, then walked to the seat furthest from him. Jake's smile faltered. I barely spoke during dinner, the atmosphere lacking its usual warmth. Jake's mother, probably sensing the awkwardness, started praising Olivia: "Olivia graduated from Yale too—she and Jake were classmates. She won scholarships every year, and her parents are both university professors. Right after graduation, she got an offer from The New Yorker! Now she's one of their editors." My mother looked impressed. "So accomplished and beautiful too! What a perfect couple you make. Not like our Autumn..." She looked at me, and for the thousandth time, the familiar criticism followed: "Graduated years ago and still hasn't made anything of herself. Wouldn't apply to that stable government position when I suggested it, couldn't even pass the basic assessment for the postal service, claims she's writing but hasn't published anything worthwhile. Stays home all day, never goes out, and hasn't even had a proper boyfriend." "She's twenty-six this year! It gets harder and harder for girls to find someone at this age. All the good men are taken by now. It keeps me up at night..." I gripped my fork so hard my knuckles turned white. My mom had criticized me like this before, but doing it in front of Jake and his girlfriend made me feel like I was being skinned alive. I couldn't breathe. "Autumn is talented too," Jake's mom said kindly. "She might become a famous writer someday, and then you'll be bragging about her." My mom scoffed. "I'm not holding my breath. I just want to see her bring a decent guy home and get married. That's all I'm asking for at this point." Suddenly Olivia spoke up: "I know quite a few eligible guys. Autumn, why don't we connect on Instagram? I could introduce you to someone." I glanced at her and forced a smile. "Thanks, but that won't be necessary." Olivia smiled, linking her arm intimately with Jake's. "Don't be so formal! You and Jake grew up together, right? He says you're his best friend." "Actually, I've seen you before. You two were always together. I used to think you were dating." "That's impossible," Jake said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, his eyes crinkling with his smile. "We've known each other since we were in diapers—we're way too familiar to have those kinds of feelings. If we were going to get together, it would have happened ages ago, and where would that leave you?" "We're just friends. Best friends. Right, Autumn?" I looked up, meeting Jake's warning gaze. In that moment, I probably looked terrible, but I was using every ounce of acting skill I had. "Right," I repeated. "Best friends." I tried to smile, but suddenly everything felt absurd, laughably so. Best friends? The kind who'd spent the night together just yesterday? The kind where I could still feel the lingering evidence of his touch on my skin? "That makes me your best friend too," Olivia said, resting her chin on her hand. "Don't be shy with me. Tell me what kind of guys you like." "Yeah," Jake's eyes fixed on me. "Autumn, you really should find someone." "...Sure," I replied, looking down, expecting tears to come. But they didn't. My eyes remained dry, still stinging from the night before. The dinner table was lively, everyone smiling except me. My mother continued praising Jake and Olivia's perfect match. And they were perfect together—both in looks and accomplishments, they seemed made for each other. I tortured myself by watching them, my nails digging into my palms under the table, until my mother tapped my hand with hers. "I'm talking to you! When are you going to bring someone home to make me happy? I don't expect you to find someone as perfect as Jake, but at least find someone decent!" I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up, pushing my plate away, trying to maintain a last shred of politeness. "I'm sorry, I just remembered I have something to take care of. I need to go. Merry Christmas." Chapter 3: The Heart Breaks I meant to finish my manuscript that night, but my head was a mess and I couldn't write a single word. Lying in bed, I wanted to scream but couldn't. Wanted to cry but had no tears. My throat and tear ducts felt completely blocked. My whole body felt compressed by misery, so I finally just threw on some clothes and went downstairs to buy cigarettes. My hometown is known for heavy snow in winter. The flakes were falling thick and fast, glowing warm orange under the streetlights. I suddenly remembered walking home from school with Jake. We always had endless conversations—I'd tell him about my day, then he'd tell me about his. Even when we reached my house, our talk wasn't finished, so we'd stand outside my door, not minding the cold, until we'd said everything. When I'd start sneezing from the cold, he would unwrap his gray scarf and wind it around me, scolding me: "Told you to dress warmer. Trying to look cute instead of wearing proper layers again? Next time I'm not helping you." But the next time, and the time after that, he'd always give me his coat or scarf. He was so good. So good in every way. Except for not loving me back. But that wasn't his fault. It was mine for not being good enough. Someone like him—who stood out in any crowd, handsome, well-educated, successful—belonged with someone like Olivia Bennett. How could he ever fall for someone as ordinary as me? Those three years of closeness were the only beautiful dream in my otherwise dull life. I stared blankly at the snow, cigarette between my lips, about to light it when I spotted two figures walking hand-in-hand through the snow. The man wore a black wool coat, tall and straight-backed. The woman wore a classic camel MaxMara coat, her long hair gleaming under the streetlight. It was Olivia and Jake. They were laughing about something, and suddenly Olivia rose on her tiptoes to kiss him. Jake bent his head to deepen the kiss. The same streetlight that had shone on me and Jake countless times now illuminated them, creating a scene so beautiful it could have been from a movie. I watched for a moment, then tried to light my cigarette with numb fingers. My fingers wouldn't cooperate; it took several attempts before I got a flame. I inhaled inexpertly, exhaling a cloud of white smoke. But this time the nicotine didn't work. My heart ached dully. I pressed my palm against my chest, feeling the slow-motion heartbreak. This winter was so damn cold. Chapter 4: Moving Forward Christmas Day passed with my mother's constant nagging—complaining about my lack of a job one minute, my lack of a boyfriend the next, never missing a chance to compare me to Jake. "Look at Jake. You've never measured up to him since you were kids, and now the gap between you is even worse." The most unbearable part was that everything she said was true. Jake's startup company was booming, Olivia Bennett was a young star editor at a famous magazine, and their future looked blindingly bright. Meanwhile, I had accomplished nothing. We seemed to be growing further apart, destined to live in different worlds. By evening, I couldn't take it anymore and got into a huge fight with my mom. I went straight to the airport and bought a ticket on the next flight back to New York. As soon as my plane landed, Jake called. "Your mom said you went back. Why didn't you wait for me? We could have flown together." "...Couldn't write at home. Came back to finish my deadline." In reality, I couldn't write anywhere right now. Jake saw through me immediately: "You fought with your mom again, didn't you? She just wants you to settle down. Don't argue with her so much. Hey, I got you a present too—I'll give it to you when I get back." The day after New Year's, Jake returned and immediately texted me. "Dinner tonight? I'll give you your gift." Jake bought me presents every Christmas. Since sophomore year when he started making money from stock trading, his gifts were always things I loved but couldn't afford myself. In the past, I'd accepted them without thinking twice, but this time I refused. "...I don't want it, Jake. Don't buy me things anymore." Jake sounded confused: "What? Why not?" I stared at the floor: "You have a girlfriend now. Buying expensive gifts for another woman might make her uncomfortable." Though I loved Jake, he had someone he loved now, and I genuinely wished them happiness. I didn't have anything against Olivia. If not her, it would have been someone else. It just would never be me. "It's fine," Jake said, his tone lightening. "She knows. Olivia's not the jealous type." "Tonight at seven, usual place. Gotta go, meeting starting." After hanging up, I felt a bitterness spreading through my chest like sour juice. Sometimes I hated Jake for being so nice to me. I wished he'd be a little worse, so I wouldn't love him so much. Of course Olivia didn't mind. Jake didn't have feelings for me, so he didn't need to hide anything. She knew I'd never be a threat to her. We weren't rivals for his affection. I never even qualified to be her rival. ... Jake didn't give me a chance to refuse, so after work, I went to our regular restaurant. To my surprise, I saw three people at the table. Olivia was there, along with a man I didn't recognize. He wore a black turtleneck that hugged his athletic build, with movie-star good looks. I froze, and Jake waved me over. "Over here!" As soon as I sat down, he started introducing the man: "This is my friend, Alex Knight. MIT grad, runs his own tech company now." Before I could figure out why he was giving such a detailed introduction, Jake mouthed silently to me: "Single."