I FOUND MY GIRL’S LIPSTICK WRITTEN ON MY BEST FRIEND’S BATHROOM MIRROR
I stared at the smeared red letters spelling “CALL ME BABE” and felt my chest tighten as the scent of her vanilla perfume hit me. My best friend Mark’s voice cracked behind me, “It’s not what you think,” but the tremor in his tone told me everything.
I spun around, my hands shaking, and threw my phone at him. “Then explain THIS,” I hissed, showing him the text she sent me this morning: *“Going to the gym, see you later! ❤️”* His face went pale, and I could hear the clock ticking in the silence that followed.
“She came over to talk about YOU,” he stammered, but I was already walking out, my shoes slamming against the hardwood floor. Her laughter echoed in my head, the same laugh she gave me when she said I was the only one she wanted.
I grabbed my coat and stepped into the cold night air, but then my phone buzzed — it was her, and the preview read: “I’m outside Mark’s. Let me explain.”
👇 *Full story continued in the comments…*I stood frozen, the icy wind doing little to numb the rage coursing through me. *Outside Mark’s?* The words were a physical blow. I imagined her, still there, the air around her thick with the perfume that was now poison. I almost considered going back inside, demanding an explanation, but the thought of seeing her face again, the potential for more lies, was unbearable.
Instead, I typed a reply, my fingers trembling. “Don’t bother.” I hit send, then switched my phone off, shoving it deep in my pocket. The cold air stung my cheeks, a stark contrast to the burning in my gut. I needed to think, to understand how everything had shattered so quickly.
I walked, aimlessly at first, the familiar streets of our neighborhood suddenly alien. I walked past the park where we shared our first kiss, the coffee shop where we plotted our future, everything now tainted with this betrayal. Finally, I ended up at a small, dimly lit bar a few blocks away, a place Mark and I used to frequent before I started dating her.
I slid onto a barstool, ordering a double whiskey. The amber liquid burned going down, but it helped clear the fog in my mind. After a few more, the anger subsided slightly, replaced by a hollow ache. I replayed the last few months in my head, searching for clues, for the moments where I missed the truth. Had she been distant lately? Were there subtle signs I ignored? The answers, I realized, were buried in the details, in the whispers of suspicion I’d chosen to silence.
Hours later, as the bar emptied, the bartender leaned over, wiping down the counter. “Rough night, pal?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.
I nodded, the whiskey finally taking its toll. “Yeah. Lost the love of my life, found out my best friend… wasn’t.”
He clapped me on the shoulder. “Shit happens. You’ll get through it.”
As I stumbled out into the pre-dawn light, the harsh reality hit me. This wasn’t just about a broken relationship; it was about the disintegration of two things I held dear. Betrayal from the two closest people in my life.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed again. I nearly ignored it, but curiosity, a twisted form of hope, compelled me to check. It was a text from Mark. A long text.
I scrolled through the words, my heart hammering. He didn’t offer excuses. He laid everything bare. He and she, for months, had been slowly building a secret. They had both felt a connection, a different kind of bond, and for both of them it felt like it was blossoming out of nowhere. He knew he screwed up, knew that my friendship with him and my relationship with her both deserved better.
I paused and finally took a deep breath.
The sun had risen, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The silence of the morning had a strange calming effect on me.
I deleted the text messages and blocked them both. I needed time, a lot of it, to heal.
I was alone. But I would move forward, a more complicated version of myself, but ultimately, stronger.