Left on Read: My Fiancée Picked My Best Friend

In our three-person Snapchat group, my messages were always left on read. At first, I brushed it off. I figured everyone was just busy. After all, Chloe and I had been dating for seven years, and Damon had been my best friend for eighteen. Until today, when I casually dropped a text in the chat. *[Hey, what do you guys think about a road trip to Lake Tahoe this weekend?]* The entire day went by without a single reply. That night, Damon posted a TikTok clip of a famous rustic steakhouse in Tahoe: *[Omg, this place looks insane!]* Chloe replied instantly. Within seconds, the chat blew up with over ninety-nine notifications. I chimed in: *[So… Tahoe then?]* Dead silence. I slowly scrolled up through the chat history. Yesterday, I texted: *[Thinking about quitting my job. I’m completely burned out.]* No one answered. The day before, Damon posted a shirtless gym selfie: *[Workout killed me, still seeing zero results.]* Chloe replied within seconds: *[Shut up, you look incredibly hot.]* They flirted until midnight. I stepped in: *[Anyone down for dinner tomorrow?]* Silence. The next day, I caught them having dinner together at a downtown sushi bar. Last week, Chloe shared a trailer for an upcoming movie. Damon shouted, *[I'm so in!]* I replied, *[Count me in too.]* Still, nobody acknowledged me. When I texted Chloe privately, they had already walked out of the theater together. It wasn't that they were too busy to reply. They just didn't want to reply to me. I didn’t leave the group. I didn't write an angry essay demanding answers. I simply muted the notifications. On the day I finally resigned, the chat finally pinged. Chloe: *[@Sean, my mom’s asking when we’re locking down a wedding date. Damon’s asking too. Why aren’t you answering?]* My flight touched down in Tahoe. I sent her one last text. *"Take your time chatting with each other. You don't ever have to reply to me again."* *"Happy breakup."* *** Right after I muted the group chat, a notification popped up on my screen. Chloe: *[Can’t go check out the new house with you this weekend. Something urgent came up.]* I frowned. *[Is it that urgent? I literally swapped shifts just to have this weekend off. There’s something important I need to tell you.]* She never texted back. I glanced at our group chat. She was still texting Damon back and forth with endless emojis. She just had no time for me. I decided not to humiliate myself any further. I opened my laptop and started drafting my two weeks' notice. I was exhausted. I desperately needed an escape. The next morning, I handed in my resignation. My boss tried everything to convince me to stay, but seeing my determination, he finally signed off on my departure. I originally planned to mention it in the group chat, but the moment I unlocked my phone, an Instagram post caught my eye. It was Damon. *[Someone said I was working too hard, so she kidnapped me for a quick getaway.]* The location was tagged at the airport. Two boarding passes were fanned out in his hand. Destination: Lake Tahoe. I zoomed in on the photo. One ticket was under Damon’s name. The other clearly read Chloe. So that was the "urgent matter" Chloe couldn't miss—a private vacation with Damon. I tagged both of them in the group chat. *[You guys went to Tahoe? Why didn't anyone tell me?]* Unsurprisingly, silence. I sent Chloe a private DM: *[Why are you going on a trip alone with Damon?]* Still nothing. It wasn't until the end of the workday that Chloe finally bothered to drop a dismissive reply: *[Just landed! It was totally last minute. We knew how stressed you were with work, so we didn’t want to bother you.]* Right below her message, Damon dropped a giggling emoji. When I got back to my apartment, my landlord was already showing a potential tenant around. Seeing me walk in, he gave me a warm smile. "Hey, Sean! Congratulations, man!" "Heard you’re breaking the lease to move into your new place with your fiancée. By the way, that buddy of yours I saw the other day… every time anyone mentioned the wedding, he looked miserable. Is he worried he's losing his best friend to a girl or something?" I froze for a couple of seconds, realizing he was talking about Damon. I pressed my lips together, too drained to explain the mess. "No. I quit my job." "And the two of them… well, the wedding isn't happening anymore." ***The landlord and the prospective tenant exchanged an awkward glance, muttered a few polite excuses, and quickly left. I sank onto the couch, staring at their latest Instagram stories. Right after landing, Chloe and Damon had headed straight to the exact steakhouse from the video. Both of them were beaming at the camera. And the luxury cabin they booked? It was the exact Airbnb I had linked in the chat days ago. They had seen every single message I sent. They had just chosen to ignore me. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and muted their profiles. Then, I got up and started packing my bags. Four days later, Chloe finally called. "Sean? Are you off work?" "Damon and I just got back. We brought you some souvenirs. Let's go check out the new house together! Didn't you say you had something important to tell me?" I looked out the window. Rain was violently lashing against the glass. "Fine. But it's pouring out and impossible to catch a cab. Pick me up on your way." The line went silent. After a long pause, Damon’s hesitant voice came through the speaker. "Hey, Sean… could you just grab an Uber over to the house?" "Chloe's over at my place making me soup. If we swing by to pick you up, it’s going to take forever with the traffic." My voice turned ice-cold. "Didn't she just say you guys barely got off the plane?" "Forget it then. Some other day." I hung up immediately. Chloe's texts immediately bombarded my screen: *[Don't take your bad mood out on Damon over something so stupid. I'm coming to get you right now.]* I let out a dry, humorless laugh. *[Don't bother. Didn't even know you knew how to cook.]* *[Rain check. I'm not leaving the house today.]* She didn't text back. Two hours later, my doorbell rang aggressively. Chloe was outside, calling my name. I yanked the door open, my face completely expressionless. "Did you not read my text? I said I'm not going anywhere today." Without listening, Chloe grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the stairs. "Stop throwing a tantrum. Damon had a bad stomach flare-up on the flight, and I was just trying to feed him." "I told him to stay home and rest, but the second he saw you were upset, he insisted on tagging along. Talk to him, okay? He's beating himself up so much he can't even sleep." I yanked my arm from her grip, rubbing my bruised wrist. Without a word, I grabbed my jacket and followed her down. I didn't even glance at the passenger side. I automatically opened the back door and slid into the rear seat. I already knew Damon would be sitting up front. Sure enough, seeing that I wasn't fighting for it, Damon turned around from the passenger seat, flashing an apologetic, pitiful smile. "Sean, I'm so sorry." "My stomach was killing me, and I honestly couldn't bear to move. Thanks for sitting in the back." "Whatever," I muttered. Chloe caught my icy tone and glared at me through the rearview mirror. As she drove, she tried to smooth things over. "Sean, Damon dragged his sick body out here just to make sure things weren't weird between us because of the trip." "Aren't you going to say something to him?" I leaned my head against the cool window pane. "There's nothing to say." Choked by my response, Chloe fell silent. She forced an awkward laugh and quickly changed the subject with Damon. Before long, their conversation drifted back to Lake Tahoe. "Chloe, remember those seagulls by the dock?" "How could I forget! They swarmed me, and I almost fell into the freezing water! And that tie-dye workshop—you got paint all over my face!" "You're blaming me? You completely ruined my shirt! I couldn't even wear it!" Every word, every burst of giggles sounded like nails on a chalkboard. When their laughter finally died down, Chloe seemed to suddenly remember that she had a fiancé sitting in the back. "Sean, we should all go to Alaska next time." "Didn't you say you were feeling burned out and needed a break? When we go—" I couldn't stand another second of it. I cut her off. "We're here. Get out." ***Chloe snapped her mouth shut, looking chastised. When she stepped out of the car, she hurried around to my side, reaching for my hand. I casually slipped both hands into my coat pockets, stepping out of her reach. The next second, Damon swooped in, looping his arm intimately around hers. Chloe didn't pull away. In fact, she instinctively raised her hand to shield his head, making sure he didn't bump against the door frame. I watched it all unfold. I didn't say a single word. I just walked straight ahead. The moment the front door of our newly purchased house swung open, Damon’s stomach illness seemed to magically vanish. He dragged Chloe from room to room, pointing excitedly at every corner. "Chloe, didn't I tell you I hated the curtains in the guest bedroom? Why haven't you replaced them yet?" I stopped dead in my tracks. "I told the contractors not to change them. The color you picked is hideous." "Besides, this is the house Chloe and I are moving into. You have zero say in how it's decorated." The smile on Damon’s face instantly froze. He never expected me to call him out so brutally to his face. He stood stunned for a couple of seconds before running over, clutching my arm with that signature, helpless routine. "Sean, don't say that. Are you still mad about the Tahoe trip?" "I'm sorry, okay? We just thought you were slammed with work and wanted you to rest. Come on... we've been best friends for eighteen years. What's mine is yours, right?" My face remained completely flat as I shoved his hand away. "What's yours is mine? Does that mean you want to marry Chloe too? Damon, we've known each other for eighteen years. I know exactly what kind of game you're playing." "Cut the act." Damon's voice caught in his throat. Then, his eyes welled up with tears, playing the innocent victim. "No, no, Sean, please don't think of me like that! I swear I just—" I took a deep breath. Since things had already reached this point, there was no reason to keep up appearances. "Every text I sent in the group, the two of you blatantly ignored. You stayed up chatting with each other while leaving my DMs on read." "You hide behind the excuse of being my best friend while taking my fiancée out to private dinners, movies, and weekend getaways. Ask literally anyone on the street—every single person would tell you that's completely messed up." "Damon, do I need to spell it out any clearer? Have some damn self-respect." Damon stood there, completely tongue-tied, burying his face in his hands as tears streamed down his cheeks. Chloe couldn't take it anymore. She rushed over and shoved me hard. "Sean! What is wrong with you?!" "Damon and I have nothing going on! We've known each other forever. If something was going to happen, it would've happened years ago! Can you stop being so paranoid? I brought you here to clear the air, not so you could scream at him like an animal!" Unprepared, I stumbled backward, my shoulder slamming painfully against the wall. A dull groan escaped my lips. Chloe instinctively reached out to catch me, but her hand froze mid-air. Instead, she turned around and wrapped her arm around Damon’s shoulders, whispering gentle reassurances. "Sean, apologize to Damon." "Let this go. Stop making a scene." I stared at the accusation burning in her eyes. The pain had long surpassed its peak. All that remained was complete numbness. I pushed myself off the wall, standing tall as I looked Chloe in the eye. "I won't let it go." "I have things to say to you. In private. I’ll be in the master bedroom. Don't bring anyone else in." With that, I brushed past her. Chloe lingered outside for a few minutes, comforting Damon and handing him a gift box along with a set of keys before finally walking into the bedroom. "Sean, this is for you." She held out a gift box. "Damon and I picked it out together in Tahoe. We were thinking of you the whole time. Please don't be mad. I promise... I promise I'll set better boundaries from now on. I won't upset you again." I glanced at the box, not bothering to take it. Instead, I held out my empty hand. "Keep the gift. Where are the keys to the house?" "The locksmith handed over two sets. One for you, one for me. Where's mine?" Chloe’s eyes darted away guiltily. "I... I’ll always be home to open the door for you. You don't really need a key. You might lose it anyway." "You gave it to Damon, didn't you?" A bitter laugh escaped my chest. The absurdity of it all was almost comical. "Chloe, I am your fiancé. I’m supposed to be the man living in this house, and I don't even have a key?" "Do you hear yourself? You knew how angry and uncomfortable I was, yet you handed my key to someone else. Whose house is this? Ours, or yours and Damon’s?" Chloe was backed into a corner, completely speechless. After a long pause, she mumbled defensively: "I’ll get another copy made for you later." "You know Damon’s family situation is tough. I gave him a key so he’d feel like he had a safe place to go. As his best friend, shouldn't you want him to feel secure..." I lost my temper and roared. "Is this just about being friends? You know the answer better than anyone!" Before the echo of my voice faded, the bedroom door was violently flung open. Damon stood there, breathing heavily. "Chloe, you mixed up the gifts!" "I was supposed to take the cheap souvenir. Why did you give me the six-thousand-dollar custom designer necklace? It even has my initials engraved on it! Give it back to Sean!" Chloe barely glanced at it. "It wasn't a mistake. You said you’d never owned anything that nice, so I wanted to get it for you." Turning back to me, she shoved the other box into my hands, softening her voice into a placating whisper. "I was running low on cash this month, so just take this for now. When my annual bonus comes in, I’ll buy you something way better. You know how hard Damon has it. He doesn't make much, and you were the one who pulled strings to get him his job in the first place." "Just take pity on him, Sean. Can we please stop fighting over these little things?" Damon looked at me, tears brimming in his eyes. "Sean... please just forgive me." ***A suffocating pressure tightened around my chest. I let out a soft laugh. Right in front of their eyes, I tossed the gift box directly into the trash can. "I don't want the gift." "I don't want the keys." Then, I looked between Chloe and Damon. "And I don't want either of you." I reached for the doorknob, ready to walk out. Chloe looked like she was about to snap. She chased after me, shouting into the hallway: "Sean! What more do you want from us?!" "We're practically begging you! Isn't that enough?!" I looked back at her, my eyes dead and devoid of warmth. I was too drained to say another word. I turned and walked away. After that day, neither Chloe nor Damon reached out to me. No calls, no texts. In the group chat, they continued chatting as if nothing had happened, though they never mentioned my name, and I never sent another text. We existed in this bizarre, chilling silence. Two weeks later, my resignation took effect. I cleared my desk, completed my exit paperwork, and prepared to head straight to the airport. Lake Tahoe. I could go there by myself just fine. As I walked out of the office building, I saw Chloe and Damon waiting by the entrance. I glanced at them, pulled out my phone to call an Uber, and pretended they didn't exist. They rushed straight toward me. Chloe opened her mouth, her voice dripping with accusations: "Sean, don't you think you're crossing the line?" "Just because we had a fight, you're retaliating against Damon at his job? Call the vendor right now and tell them to drop the formal complaint against him!" Damon broke down in tears, reaching out frantically: "Sean, I'm sorry! It took everything I had to get this job. Please, just let me off the hook!" "If that vendor keeps pushing the complaint, HR is going to fire me!" I looked at both of them with complete detachment. "I didn't tell anyone to file a complaint. When you screw up at work, I shouldn't be the one constantly cleaning up your mess. If you made a mistake, go fix it. Go apologize to the client. Crying to me won't do a damn thing." Hearing this, Damon became even more hysterical. He lunged forward, grabbing my coat, attempting to drop to his knees on the pavement. "Sean, I get it now! I understand!" "I'll make it up to you! I'll apologize! I'll get on my knees right here, okay?! Just let me keep my job! I promise I'll never talk to Chloe again! But I can't lose this job, I have nowhere else to go!" Chloe grabbed him, trying to pull him up, the two of them tangled in a messy struggle. Once Damon was back on his feet, Chloe glared at me with pure venom. "Sean, haven't you had enough?! Do you really need to see us groveling on our knees before you're satisfied?! Fix Damon’s problem right now, apologize properly, and we can still move forward with the wedding." "Otherwise, I'm not marrying you!" A genuine smile spread across my face. "Then don't." My Uber pulled up. I opened the door, slid into the backseat, and watched the car pull away into traffic. In the rearview mirror, Chloe stood frozen, as if she couldn't process that I had actually walked away. She frantically reached for her phone, but Damon grabbed her arm, stopping her. They began arguing and pulling at each other on the sidewalk. I looked away. There was no pain left in my chest. Only pure, sweet relief. A few minutes later, Chloe sent a barrage of texts. *[Where did you go?]* *[Damon won't stop crying. His situation isn't fixed! Where the hell are you?!]* *[Sean, stop acting like a spoiled brat. We both need to cool off. I'm coming over to your apartment tonight!]* My apartment? Good luck finding me there. I smirked, slipped my phone into my pocket, and didn't bother replying. Once I boarded the plane and took my seat, Chloe's call lit up my screen. She probably just found out the apartment was empty. I declined the call. Snapping a photo of the airplane wing slicing through the clouds, I posted it to my Instagram Story: *[Chloe and I are officially over. Wishing her the best.]* Then, I flipped my phone to airplane mode. It didn't matter anymore. A relationship meant for two was far too crowded for three. From this moment on, I was walking my path alone. ***