Inside the car, Serina—who usually barely said two words to me—wouldn't stop talking.

"Why do you always pick fights with Beckett? What exactly did he ever do to you?"

"I'm married, not sold to you. Don't I have the right to normal social interactions?"

"If Beckett and I really had something going on, our kid would already be old enough to run errands by now. Do you really think you'd still get the chance to argue with me about it?"

That last string in my chest finally snapped.

"Yes. You're right—it's none of my business!" I roared, unable to hold it any longer. "But damn it, I've had enough!"

The emotions I'd been suppressing for too long exploded all at once.

I turned my face toward the window, head tilted back, trying to hold back the tears.

"Serina, you remember the size of his underwear. You remember that he hates cilantro. Every time there's a group dinner, you fuss over him like a servant, scalding his bowls and silverware again and again with boiling water."

My eyes burned, and this time my tears fell.

"But you somehow managed to forget that I'm allergic to mangoes. On my birthday, you ordered his favorite mango cake. I nearly died in the hospital because of it."

"It was me who drank myself into a stomach hemorrhage for your startup. It was me who mortgaged my parents' entire savings—to pull you out of the fire. And where the hell was your so-called ‘best friend’ then? Did he ever lift a finger for you?"

"So now that you’ve made it big, Miss Rodrigo, he shows up—parading as your so-called male best friend. And you—" my chest heaved, "—you enjoy it, don't you?"

The words drained out of me like poison finally expelled. I closed my eyes.

"Serina, let's get divorced."

Silence. The only sound in the car was my muffled sobs.

I turned my head.

She was leaning quietly against the window, softly snoring in her drunken sleep.

...

I sat alone until three in the morning.

Staring at the wedding photo on the coffee table, I finally picked up the phone and dialed my lawyer.

"Sorry to bother you so late. Please draft a divorce agreement for me."

Early the next morning—I was woken by the clatter of things in the bathroom.

Serina stood in front of the mirror, applying lipstick, then lowered her head and smiled stupidly at her phone.

Suddenly, my phone chimed. As I glanced at the screen, I saw the calendar reminder. Today was my birthday.

She noticed I was awake, came over, and kissed my cheek lightly.

"Go back to sleep, hubby. I've got to head out later to check out Claire's new camping project."

She spoke casually as if nothing had happened.

It was always like this.

Every fight, every conflict—so long as I didn't press, she pretended nothing was wrong, acting her way past it all.

I opened my mouth to speak, but she had already turned away, tapping rapidly on her phone screen.

A knock came at the door.

She dropped her phone on the table and practically ran to answer it.

A sudden, sharp premonition seized me. I picked up her phone.

The screen was still lit. A group chat named "The Original Crew" was buzzing with messages.

Beckett: [I'm downstairs. Come greet your Daddy.]

My heart thudded as I scrolled up. Each message stabbed me like a thousand needles.

[Still fighting? Marvin is like a whiny woman. I told you from the start, I didn't think you two would last.]

[Five years freeloading off us, eating and drinking like an outsider. Ugh. Better to just divorce and be with Beckett instead.]

Beckett had sent a smug emoji. [I'm not even mad anymore. Serina said she's buying me an amazing camping site as a gift. Some people work their whole lives and still can't match what I get from having a good best friend.]

And right beneath that was Serina's reply. [Clinging to Mommy pays off. Now you see who really matters, don't you?]

[Muah~ Let's go have fun today. And remember—we agreed, no partners allowed!]

[Serina, did you see that? Beckett said as long as you come, he'll share a tent with you tonight—and take good care of you.]

An icy chill shot straight up my spine. My vision darkened.

How laughable.

Back then, it was Beckett himself who invited me into this group—he even renamed it "Fantastic 6+1."

It turned out they had built another group chat behind my back.

It wasn't as if I hadn't tried to blend in. I really had.

But in their world of "original members," I was always the outsider—an intruder who didn't belong.

My hands trembled, my chest tightened. I resisted the urge to smash her phone and instead saved every one of those chat records as proof.

By the time Serina walked back in, I had already placed her phone neatly where it had been.

She picked it up, hesitated for a moment, then said softly, "Hubby, those people are so clingy, insisting on tagging along with me. Why don't you just be good and stay home this time?"

I calmly reached for my jacket. "Claire has been my friend for more than a decade. If this project involves her, I'm going too."

She froze, then stretched out an arm to stop me.

"You never get along with them anyway. Better not come—you'll just spoil the mood."

She turned as if to leave.

I caught her wrist, locking eyes with her.

"Today is my birthday."

I didn't add anything more. It was the last chance I was willing to give her.

Outside the door, Beckett stomped impatiently.

Serina's expression instantly twisted with annoyance. She yanked her arm free with a violent shrug. "Why are you acting like some nagging old woman? What's so special about a birthday?"

My fist slammed into the doorframe. Pain shot through my knuckles, through my chest.

"Tsk, tsk!" Beckett's hand came up to pinch her cheek.

"Sis, what did I teach you? Be gentle with men. Honestly, I think Marvin's brand of sulky, petty overthinking is pretty rare—you should be grateful for him!"

Serina snorted. "He can't live without making a fuss. If he's not causing drama, he's uncomfortable."

She brushed past me as if I didn't exist, lunging instead for Beckett's side. Her hands darted into his armpits to tickle him.

"And who were you just calling your ‘sis'? Hmm? No manners! Call me Mom!"

Beckett laughed, ducking theatrically, his expression exaggerated.

"Mommy, I want milk~"

Serina smirked and arched her chest forward. "Come on then, son. Mommy will feed you until you're full!"

Their little troupe burst into laughter as they disappeared down the hall together.

I stood there, feeling suffocated, as if the air itself had been sucked out of the room.

Watching them vanish into the elevator, I finally pulled out my phone and dialed.

"Claire, wait for me at the campsite. I'll come find you."

Her reply was short. "Alright."

I've known Claire since childhood—our friendship had boundaries, clarity. I knew what real loyalty, what clean companionship, looked like.

Two years of dating. Three years of marriage.

I needed to see, with my own eyes, just how filthy, how degrading the end of my marriage would be.

The camping base was far from the city. Early autumn winds rustled cool and gentle through the mountains.

Beside rows of white tents, a group of young men and women cheered in excitement.

Claire had saved me a spot on the edge of the camp, handing me a chair.

Across the artificial lake, I saw them—a cluster of men and women circling around Beckett.

Wearing nothing but shorts, blindfolded, he stumbled forward and lunged—wrapping his arms around Serina with perfect aim.

The crowd whooped.

"Serina lost! Truth or Dare, Truth or Dare!"

"Tell us honestly—do you like Beckett?"

Beckett hooked his arm around Serina's neck, laughing as he cursed at them.

"Oi! You guys are so annoying!"

But someone shouted louder, "Oh, come on—it's obvious!"

"Forget Truth, let's go Dare! Didn't Beckett already bite Serina's ass? Come on, do it again so we can see!"

Roars of laughter filled the air.

Beckett smirked, eyes flicking toward Serina with wicked glint.

"I think that sounds like a good idea!"

Before the words had even faded, he reached for the waistband of her pants.

"Hey! Stop it!"

Serina laughed as she dodged him—her movements were light, playful, but not firm.

Suddenly, Beckett slipped, and Serina instinctively reached out to catch him.

The two of them toppled together, collapsing in a tangled heap on the soft grass.

In the chaos, Serina's skirt was pushed up to her waist.

Beckett held her tightly by the waist, his other hand possessively covering her exposed thigh.

Their eyes locked, and heat rose between them.

Neither had the slightest intention of letting go.

The crowd's deafening cheers of "Be together!" cut into me like knives, stabbing again and again until my heart was nothing but shredded flesh.

At that moment, I was no different from those pathetic husbands in movies—watching from the shadows as their wives nestled into another man's arms.

Beside me, Claire's face had gone pale with fury. She was about to storm forward, but I quickly reached out and stopped her.

My hand shook as I dialed Serina's number. Through blurred vision, I saw her pull out her phone. Annoyance flickered across her face at the sudden ringing.

Once. Twice. Three times.

She stared at the caller ID flashing "Husband" but never picked up.

With a mocking snort, Beckett pulled her into his arms, his tone dripping with contempt.

"Your nagging ‘old man' again?"

He casually pressed the decline button, tapped Serina on the nose, and smirked.

"Don't ditch your bestie just because of a man. Otherwise, we won't be friends anymore."

"Don't say that!" Serina laughed, clinging to him even tighter. "My husband is not half as important as my bestie!"

With a swift motion, she powered off her phone and tossed it aside, then rolled with him again across the grass, giggling.

Yes. Her husband was nothing compared to her so-called best friend.

What more did I need to understand?

The wind cut through me, leaving me trembling. I pointed at the laughing pair not far away.

"Claire, does this spot have cameras?"

Claire caught my meaning immediately. "I'll have someone save the footage right now."

My chest felt hollow, bleeding out from a wound no one could see.

'Serina, if you've already made your choice... Then the outcome is inevitable. You will lose everything.'

Not far away, the group had started barbecuing and drinking again. The more they drank, the looser their tongues became.

Beckett lifted his bottle with a wistful grin.

"You know, the day Serina got married, I was so heartbroken I went drinking alone by the river. I even posted about it online."

He laughed and leaned forward. "Guess what happened? She showed up in her wedding dress! We sat there like idiots, watching the stars all night."

My throat tightened.

I remembered our wedding night—how she claimed there was an urgent matter and left me waiting on the marriage bed until dawn.

"And later," Beckett went on, "I told her I'd never get married, but I wanted a kid. You know what she said?"

He paused deliberately, milking the suspense, before bursting into laughter.

"She looked me dead in the eye and said, ‘Fine. You give me the sperm, and I'll carry the child for you!'"

The crowd erupted into laughter and cheers.

"What a loyal friend!" someone hollered.

Beckett nudged Serina.

"Hey, with that kind of loyalty, what about Marvin then?"

Serina lowered her eyes, her voice casual, almost bored.

"After every time with him, I just take the pill. It's not like I ever planned to have his child."

"What the hell!"

The group gasped, and Claire exploded beside me. "You've put up with that?"

The sunlight pierced my eyes, so sharp it hurt. A laugh broke from my throat, bitter and cracked.

Laughing, until the tears spilled over.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" My voice shook. "She even said she wanted to be childfree with me."

For three years, Serina and I had tried again and again to conceive, but she never once became pregnant.

I always thought the problem was mine. Not once did I doubt her.

She was so gentle, so tender, always whispering to me, "Marvin, it's okay. We can live as a DINK couple. Just the two of us forever. You're all I need."

But now I see the truth.

The only joke in this story—was me.