I shared everything with my best friend. Including my boyfriend's affection for me.

When Miles Simmons bought me a gift, there was always a second one for Lesley Chavez.

When he helped me put together a proposal, my name went first. Lesley's came second.

Even the trips we carefully planned, we always booked the buy-two-get-one-free package. Wherever we went, we brought Lesley along.

I used to think what I was sharing was just an overflow of Miles's love for me, spilling onto the people close to him.

But after I watched the crab meat I'd picked clean for Miles end up in Lesley's bowl.

All of it suddenly felt pointless.

Sharing everything with Lesley was a habit I'd had since I was five.

But if what she wanted was my boyfriend, all to herself.

Then I no longer had to keep my distance from that senior she'd been crushing on for years.

……

Two bites and Lesley had finished off the crab meat.

Miles even turned to me for credit. "I saw her watching you the whole time you were picking that crab apart."

Lesley huffed. "If you weren't here being a third wheel, Georgia Swanson would've just picked it for me herself. Who needed you to pass it over?"

I pressed my lips together and said nothing.

The two of them had already moved on to where they'd go watch the boat races over the holiday weekend.

"There'll definitely be a crowd that day. Miles, get up early and grab a spot."

"And find somewhere with some shade. Georgia hates the heat."

Lesley dictated my preferences the way she always did.

Miles noted each one. "Got it. And that trendy restaurant Georgia sent you—if we're eating there that day, I'll go book it today."

Every sentence the two of them spoke was about me.

Yet neither of them turned their head to ask what I actually wanted.

"For the holiday weekend, I want to go back home," I said.

At the sound of my voice, they both froze.

Miles set down his chopsticks. "Everything was fine. Why are you changing your mind again?"

"Weren't you the one who told Lesley you wanted to hit up that trendy restaurant over the weekend?"

A bitterness rose in my throat.

Yes. I did want to go to that restaurant.

Just not with the three of us.

Not like this, with me in the middle, where even my breathing felt like one thing too many.

I was about to explain, but Miles had already stood up to settle the bill.

He took my membership card—and used it at the front counter to redeem the collectible mystery box Lesley had been wanting all along.

I'd been staring at that bracelet in the corner. The points I'd been saving for so long were finally enough today.

Miles knew that too.

But he came back and handed the mystery box to Lesley, with one airy little line.

"We come here to eat all the time anyway. You can swap for your bracelet some other time."

We stepped out of the restaurant, and the rain came down out of nowhere.

Miles gave the umbrella to Lesley.

He pulled off his jacket and draped it over my head, wrapping an arm around me as we ran toward the car.

The cold rain pelted my body, and I was shivering with it.

But Miles was still laughing.

"Georgia, doesn't this feel just like that line everyone posts online? If two people walk through the rain together, they're meant to grow old together too?"

I was on my period, my lower belly cramping in waves, my face white with the pain.

Miles didn't notice at all.

We got in the car, and Lesley climbed into the back seat the way she always did, leaving the passenger seat for me.

She'd always had a good sense of boundaries about that.

But she spoke up soon enough.

"Georgia, there's a towel in the car. Hurry and dry yourself off."

I paused, then opened the center console. At some point someone had put a towel, a blanket, and hand warmers inside.

Lesley leaned forward, adjusted the air conditioning with practiced ease, and tucked the blanket over me.

A little warmth seeped into me. But inside, I had gone hollow.

"These things—when did they get put in the car?"

Miles's tone was easy. "Last time I took Lesley to pick out your birthday gift, she said you get cold easily, so I grabbed them while we were at it."

But this was something I had said. Many times.

He'd never given it a single thought.

Lesley mentioned it once, and he bought it.

When I came out after changing clothes at home, I saw Lesley pick up the couple's mug that belonged to Miles.

I was about to say something when Miles pressed mine into my hands.

"One for each of you. Best friends, for life."

Lesley walked over smiling, resting her chin on my shoulder.

"Obviously. I'm Georgia's number one, so you, Miles, get to be the side piece for life."

Miles laughed.

I gripped the mug filled with hot water. It was warm, plainly warm.

And yet the cold sank all the way into my heart.

The next morning I woke up with my forehead burning hot.

I forced myself to call Miles, asking him to bring fever medicine after work.

My hoarse voice startled him, and he agreed right away.

Less than half an hour later, there was a knock at the door.

Miles was back, and he'd brought Lesley too.

Both of them had their hands full of bags. "Georgia, are you feeling any better?"

"These are all your favorites."

I pried my eyes open and looked. Shaved ice, salmon.

All of it cold and raw.

The bags came up empty, but there was no medicine for me.

"I need fever medicine."

My throat was so swollen by then that every word came out like a razor dragged across it.

For a second Miles's expression went blank.

Lesley reached out and gave him a smack. "What's wrong with you? You just said Georgia wasn't feeling well, didn't even make it clear she had a fever, and you forgot to buy the medicine."

She immediately pulled out her phone and opened the delivery app.

Scrolling with one hand, she steered me toward the bedroom with the other.

"Go lie down first, drink some hot water, bundle up under the blanket and sweat it out."

Miles nodded along and poured me a cup of hot water, setting it on the nightstand.

The door was pulled shut.

From outside came the rustle of plastic bags.

Miles was washing fruit for Lesley.

After a while, the sound of a reality show started up.

Mixed with the two of them laughing.

Every half hour, the door would crack open.

Sometimes it was Miles, feeling my forehead. "Seems like it's not as hot now."

Sometimes it was Lesley, holding the water cup. "Drink a little more."

But the medicine never came.

Three hours.

I really couldn't hold out any longer, so I picked up my phone myself and ordered a delivery runner.

The doorbell rang.

Miles opened the door, saw the medicine, and there was an extra note of blame in the way he looked at me.

"Why did you order it yourself? Wasting that money for nothing. Didn't we say we'd buy it for you?"

My voice was a rasp. "It's been three hours. Where's the medicine?"

The living room went quiet for two seconds.

Miles and Lesley exchanged a glance.

They spoke at the same time. "I thought you ordered it."

I didn't acknowledge their apologies.

I swallowed the pills dry.

Pulled the blanket up and buried my head under it.

The next day the fever broke, but my body was still weak.

Today, though, was the master's art exhibit I'd booked a month ago.

I got dressed and came out.

But Miles said he'd canceled the tickets.

"Lesley was worried you weren't fully recovered and insisted on coming along so she'd feel better about it. The exhibit tickets couldn't be bought last minute, so I canceled and swapped them for a movie instead."

They dragged me to the theater.

Only then did I find out it was a horror film, the kind I hate.

When the first jump scare came, I shrank back into my seat in fright.

I turned, reaching for Miles's arm.

He was leaning sideways, over the armrest, quietly discussing the plot with Lesley.

"This part's an homage to The Grudge, right?"

"Yeah, look at that composition."

I closed my eyes.

And sat through the entire movie.

After it let out, Lesley leaned over with a hand pressed to her chest. "That's it, I'm done. There's no way I'm sleeping alone tonight."

Miles didn't even stop to think. "Then let's stay at Georgia's tonight. I'll sleep on the floor."

Then he added one more thing.

It was meant for me.

"Georgia, let Lesley take the master bedroom. She's timid. A bigger room with more light helps her sleep."

I stood at the entrance of the theater.

Cold air slid down my collar.

The fever from yesterday felt like it was creeping back.

The two of them were already walking toward the parking lot, side by side.

Not one of them looked back at me.

I stood there a long time, until my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Greg James, the senior Lesley had been crushing on for six years.

It was already the twentieth one.

"Georgia, anything you want me to bring back from over here lately? I'm coming home next week."

He asked me this every so often.

I'd never once replied.

This time, I did.

"Vinyl records. And perfume."

The records were what I wanted.

The perfume was what Lesley liked.

I wanted to give the two of them one more chance.

Miles must have picked up on how cold I'd gone.

Over the next few days, he suddenly turned attentive.

He warmed milk in the morning, gave me a goodbye kiss before heading out, and never came home in the evening without a bouquet.

But his phone never stopped chiming with messages.

The person sending them was always Lesley.

The fruit cake he brought home after work was the flavor Lesley had told him about.

The sleep music he played at night came from a playlist Lesley had sent him.

Behind every attempt he made to please me stood Lesley.

That night, he was staring at his phone again, typing, a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Lesley says we should take you camping this weekend to relax."

I set down my book and looked at him.

"Miles, you've been with me for seven years."

"Do you not understand even a little about me on your own?"

His mouth opened, then closed. He looked flustered.

"Georgia, I just get scared of doing something wrong, saying something wrong, and making you even angrier…"

The words jammed in my chest. I didn't know what to say.

That evening Miles cooked a whole table of dishes, all the things I loved.

He sat down across from me and smiled, a little nervous. "I remembered all of these myself. I didn't ask anyone."

I'd just lifted a bite when my phone rang.

It was Lesley.

"Georgia! My pipe burst, there's water all over the living room, what do I do?"

Before I could even speak, Miles had already set down his bowl and stood up.

"I'll be quick. You eat first, don't wait for me."

I sat at the table alone.

Chopsticks in hand, unable to swallow a thing.

After a while Miles's video call came through.

It was a habit of his.

Every time he went to Lesley's alone, he'd keep me on video the whole time to report in.

But I watched Miles walk in, not a single question, and find the slippers like he'd done it a hundred times, changing into them.

Then he dug out the toolbox at Lesley's place.

That faint warmth in my chest cooled, bit by bit.

After he fixed it, he packed up the tools, muttering, "How many times have I told you, don't crank the water heater up so high, the pipe will burst, and you just won't listen."

Lesley leaned in toward the camera to tattle on him. "Georgia, look at him, snapping at me again!"

I didn't say anything. I hung up.

An hour later, Miles came back. But Lesley was right behind him.

Lesley looped her arm through mine and shoved Miles toward the guest room. "Tonight I'm sleeping with Georgia. Don't come bother us."

Miles raised his hands in surrender and went to the guest room.

The lights off, Lesley curled her arms around mine, the same as when we'd squeezed together at ten years old.

"Georgia, Miles is planning to propose to you." Her tone was thrilled.