You Were More Than My Best Friend
“If you want to succeed, there is a way. If you can’t succeed, there must still be a way around.”
Adam’s lips, usually quick to curl into a playful grin, were drawn into a weary pout. His eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were dull, mirroring the glazed-over look of someone forced to endure a tedious lecture. He slumped against the worn park bench, the very picture of boredom, despite having practically begged for my “words of wisdom.”
A smirk tugged at my lips. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I prodded, knowing full well the answer.
It was beyond me why he sought out my motivational speeches, considering they always landed with the impact of a deflated balloon.
He pushed off the bench with a groan, stretching his back with a loud crack and punctuating it with a theatrical yawn. “You’re just... bad at motivating people,” he stated plainly, his voice thick with a feigned exhaustion.
“You’re lucky to have me as your friend,” I retorted, gathering my scattered notes.
We were practically conjoined at the hip—neighbors, same college, same ambitious dream of becoming well-known entrepreneurs.
But lately, his admirable facade had begun to crack. The moment a professor assigned a project, he became my shadow, a permanent fixture attached to my side.
“I think I am,” he shot back, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes as a sly smirk played on his lips.
I rolled my eyes, a familiar wave of annoyance washing over me. “I regretted meeting you since the first year.”
“No, you like me being around you,” he countered, winking.
My lips pressed into a thin line. With a swift motion, I reached out and pinched his arm.
“Ouch!” He yelped, rubbing the offended spot. “You’re so mean!” His glare, though feigned, held a touch of genuine irritation.
Another eye-roll.
I sidestepped him, heading towards his car.
At least he drove, a small mercy.
He unlocked the doors, and we both slid inside, the familiar scent of worn leather and stale air enveloping us as he pulled away from the curb.
“You shouldn’t waste your time anymore, Adam,” I began, my voice laced with an uncharacteristic seriousness.
The playful banter had vanished, replaced by a growing knot of anxiety in my stomach.
“This is our last year of college. You can’t just hang on to me to pass. After this examination, we might get separated.”
My gaze drifted out the window, watching the blur of trees.
“I don’t want you to get in trouble when you’re working on your own in the future. I don’t want that to happen, Adam. If you really want to achieve your dream, you can, if you have the will. You can succeed even if you do it in your own way.”
I turned to face him, my expression grave, the weight of my words heavy in the air.
“Stop it, Elaine!” he muttered, his voice surprisingly sharp.
“Adam, listen to me. I can’t help you succeed in your career after this. We might work far away from each other. If you truly have the will to be an entrepreneur, just like me, you have to work harder on your own sometimes.”
“I said, STOP it!” he shouted, his voice cracking with an unfamiliar rage.
I flinched, turning my head sharply to face him.
He was rubbing his forehead with a free hand, his knuckles white. The casual lightness had drained from his features, replaced by a dark, intense seriousness that sent a chill down my spine.
It was a side of Adam I rarely saw, a side that always heralded something profoundly wrong.
“I-I’m s-sorry,” I stuttered, biting back the sob that clawed at my throat.
A sharp pang of hurt pierced my chest.
This was how he looked when he took something seriously, something that truly affected him.
Had I misjudged? Had my earnest advice crossed a line?
Fine, he wanted me to stop, and I would.
My gaze dropped to my lap, my hair forming a curtain around my face, shielding the tears that now streamed silently down my cheeks.
I drew slow, deliberate breaths, trying to quell the rising tide of emotion, biting down hard on my lip to stifle any sound.
The first fat drops of rain splattered against the windshield as we pulled into his driveway.
The moment the car stopped, I fumbled with the door handle, desperate to escape.
Without a word of goodbye, I bolted from the car, the cool rain a welcome distraction from the heat of my shame.
I heard him call my name, a faint echo against the drumming rain, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn back, to face him in my current state.
I burst through my front door, nearly colliding with my mom.
She looked at me, her brow furrowed with concern, but I ignored her questioning gaze, racing up the stairs and into the sanctuary of my room.
After a quick, numbing shower, I changed into my sleep clothes, the day’s events replaying like a cruel loop in my mind.
Just as I was about to succumb to sleep, my phone vibrated.
Adam.
A wave of conflicting emotions washed over me.
Should I answer?
I hated holding grudges, hated the lingering discomfort of unresolved conflict.
With a hesitant finger, I slid to answer and raised the phone to my ear.
“Elaine?” His voice, usually so vibrant, was laced with an undeniable tremor of guilt.
“What do you want?” I managed, trying to inject an irritated tone into my trembling voice.
“I’m sorry for shouting at you,” he said, and the sincerity in his tone was unmistakable.
“I’m hanging up,” I threatened, though my heart was pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
“Wait! I need to tell you something. You’ll have to take the bus to school starting tomorrow. I can’t take you because I’ve decided to go abroad and study on my own.”
My eyes widened in a sudden, sharp terror.
My breath hitched.
I scrambled out of bed, fumbling for the doorknob, my mind reeling.
“Elaine, my dear,” his voice came through the phone, calm but tinged with a faint sadness. “I’m not at home. I’m in a hotel. My flight is tomorrow.”
“You’re mad at me, right?” The question escaped me, raw and laced with the hurt that now seeped into every word.
“I am not mad. Wasn’t it you who told me to study and grab my dream on my own?” His voice, though still gentle, held a faint edge of mockery.
“You’re leaving me because of that?”
My back slid down the wall behind me, tears blurring my vision as I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Don’t cry. This is why I’m leaving earlier. You wouldn’t want me to go. Miss me as much as you like, okay? When I return, you’ll be the first person I meet.”
I bit my lip, tasting blood.
Why are you doing this to me, you jerk?!
“Well, goodbye, Elaine.”
He hung up, the click of the phone a final, agonizing punctuation mark as a choked sob finally escaped my lips.
I loved my best friend.
But it felt like so much more than that.
Two Years Later
Ding! Dong!
The familiar chime echoed through the quiet house.
My heart leaped, a frantic hope blossoming in my chest. I practically flew to the front door, my hand trembling as I reached for the knob.
The door swung open.
A wide, incredulous smile stretched across my face as my eyes landed on him.
I launched myself forward, wrapping my arms around him in a bone-crushing hug, a wave of pure, unadulterated joy washing over me. He returned the embrace with equal fervor, lifting me off my feet for a moment.
He pulled back, his eyes, still filled with that familiar mischief, gazing deeply into mine.
“Did you miss me?”
“Yes!” The word burst from me, raw with emotion.
“Did you cry a lot for me?”
“Yes!”
“Elaine?”
“Yeah?”
My breath hitched.
There was a new seriousness in his gaze, a subtle shift that made my stomach flutter.
He slowly knelt, his eyes never leaving mine, and reached into his pocket.
My breath caught in my throat.
My hands flew to my mouth, a gasp escaping as he opened a small, velvet box.
Inside, nestled on a cushion of satin, was a dazzling diamond ring, catching the light.
“Will you be my wife?” he asked, a devilish grin spreading across his face, his eyes twinkling.
“Yes! Absolutely!” I squealed, my voice high-pitched with pure elation.
Then, a ripple of sound.
Cheers and applause erupted from behind Adam, and my cheeks flushed crimson as I realized we weren’t alone.
Friends and family emerged from behind the bushes, their faces beaming.
For the past two years, I’d felt like a ghost, simply existing. But his return, this moment, had breathed life back into my very soul.
It was official. I wanted to marry him.
The End
