Between a Rock and a Hard Place
Id always believed the best way to survive betrayal was to drown it in tearsright then and there, so thered be nothing left to cry about later in private. Even better? Sob on the shoulder of someone whod actually understand.
For nearly an hour, that shoulder had belonged to Ethan. My (soon-to-be-ex) husbands best friend.
Olivia, please dont cry, Ethan murmured, his voice quiet and weary. His hand rubbed slow circles on my back, which only made me sob harder.
Why would he do this to me? I choked out, swiping at my damp cheeks for the umpteenth time. Was it something I did? Am I ugly? Be honest!
Youre the most beautiful woman on the planet. Daniels just blind.
He said it so earnestly that, for a second, I actually believed himand even stopped wailing. Then I shoved my phone under his nose, the damning screenshot glaring back at us. Some woman named Charlotte had messaged Daniel: *When are you finally dumping that bore?* And the man whod sworn eternal love to me at the altar had replied: *Shed fall apart without me. I feel sorry for her.*
*Sorry.* That one word erased everythingour past, every whispered I love you, every plan for the future. Our marriage had been built on pity.
I buried my face in my hands. How utterly humiliating.
Ethan stayed silent. Unlike Daniel, whod fill any quiet moment with a hundred pointless words, he knew when to say nothing at all. He was the only person in Manchester I could call in this state. I knew Ethan wouldnt pity me, coddle me, or lecture me. And that was exactly what I needed.
Hed raced over in twenty minutes, listened to my hysterics without a word, handed me a glass of water, and let me soak his hoodie with my tears. Then he just sat there, his silence more comforting than any speech.
He *pitied* me, can you believe it? I hiccuped for the hundredth time.
Ethan didnt answer. Just clenched his fists and stared out the window. And in that quiet restraint, there was more understanding than a million perfect phrases could ever offer.
***
Id met Daniel in my hometown of Bristol, at a local art exhibition. Id ducked in to escape the rain and spotted himarguing fiercely with a friend in front of a gloomy abstract painting.
This isnt art, its a cry for help! he ranted. Theres no emotion, no thought, just cheap shock value!
Some devil on my shoulder made me interrupt.
Isnt shock an emotion too? Art doesnt have to be pretty. It just has to be honest.
Daniel turned, and the anger in his grey eyes flickered into interest. So you believe art should tell the truth, no matter how bitter?
We talked for three hours straight. He was a whirlwindfull of ideas, jokes, and an infectious zest for life. That passion swept me off my feet. Hed argue about 1970s cinema until he was hoarse, then drag me to a rooftop to watch raindrops dance in puddles below. With him, boredom didnt exist. He made me feel electric, fascinating, adored. He didnt see *me*he saw some dazzling version of me, and Id worked tirelessly to live up to it.
When, after two months of feverish romance, he asked me to move to Liverpool and marry him, I said yes without hesitation. Silly little moth, drawn to his flame.
I remember him introducing me to his best friend.
Meet Ethanmy brother, my guardian angel. And this is Olivia, the love of my life! Daniel beamed like a kid at Christmas.
Ethan shook my hand, his gaze oddly awkward? Wary? At the time, I didnt understand. He seemed quiet, seriousnothing like my loud, vivacious Daniel. But later, we found common ground: a shared love of Terry Pratchetts books and the belief that the best coffee came from hole-in-the-wall cafés, not chains.
After moving to Liverpool, I realised Ethan was a safe harbour. Daniel was a hurricanethrilling, but exhausting. Ethan knew how to *listen*. For hours, hed let me ramble about books or vent about the move, never interrupting or showing off. Just nodding, sometimes asking a question so sharp it proved hed heard every word.
With him, I felt calm. Safe. Something I never felt with my husband, whoas time provedonly truly loved himself.
***
I cant say Charlottes message blindsided me. Id ignored the red flags: late work meetings, his phone always face-down, unfamiliar perfume. It was obvious. But Daniel spun excuses so smoothly I *wanted* to believe them. *He loves me, doesnt he? The man who enchanted me at that exhibition wouldnt lie.*
Increasingly, I found myself more at ease with Ethan. He didnt shower me with compliments, but he *listened*like my words mattered. Once, the three of us were at a picnic. I mentioned wanting to paint a series based on old Cornish folklore. Daniel yawned. Sounds like a dull documentary.
Ethan leaned forward. Which legend would you start with?
We talked for half an hour while Daniel played mobile games. A traitorous thought crept in: *This is who Id want to share my days withnot just the celebrations.*
Six months later, I stumbled upon Daniel flirting with some woman online. Unfazed, he claimed she was an old school friendjust their banter. *Surely no one lies that convincingly,* Id thought, ignoring the truth yet again.
Then came *that* evening. The messages with Charlotte. The humiliation. But the affair wasnt the worst blow. Hed stayed with me out of *pity*!
Ethan, of course, had known about Daniels escapades all along. Theyd been friends since primary school. Daniel collected conquests like trophiesfalling in love (or rather, making others fall for him) was as natural as breathing. Reserved with his own feelings, Ethan never judgeduntil Daniel married me.
I hadnt known Ethan tried to talk sense into him, that theyd even fought over it. Daniel, naturally, never mentioned itjust sneered once, Ethans soft on you, poor sod. Id dismissed it. *Hes just a friend. Too decent for anything else.*
Now here I was, my life in ruins, with only Ethan beside me.
Daniel wont change, he said quietly, cutting through my thoughts. His voice was firm. Hes not a bad person. Just a child who wants every toy but never values the one he has.
Im not a toy.
Of course not. Youre an entire universe, he stumbled, eyes dropping.
The decision came easily.
I should go home. To Bristol.
Ethan sighed. Something flickered in his eyespain? Hesitation?
Probably for the best, he finally said. Time to clear your head.
Will you drive me?
He couldve refusedwork, obligations. But he just nodded. Pack your things. Ill help.
***
Six months in Bristol blurred into one long, grey day. Daniel didnt fight the divorceif anything, he seemed relieved. I tried to piece myself back together while my parents tiptoed around me, their pity only deepening the ache.
Ethan called daily. At first, just checking in. Soon, our talks stretched for hours, just like before. We spoke about everythingexcept *him*. One day, I realised I waited for Ethans calls more eagerly than I ever had for Daniels.
Then, peering out the window, I spotted his car. No warning.
My heart leapt. I rushed outside. Ethan? Whats wrong?
He stepped out, looking more flustered than Id ever seen him.
Nothings wrong. Everythings finally *right*.
He moved closer, gaze locked on mine.
Olivia, Im rubbish with pretty words. Cant paint pictures with them or put on a show. But I know one thing. Ive loved you all this time. Silently. Because you were my best friends wife, and saying anything wouldve been a betrayal. But now Now Im free to tell you. I dont expect anything. Just needed you to know.
He looked so vulnerable. As lost as Id been that night hed comforted me. And in his eyes, I saw what Id craved for yearsnot pity. Respect. And love, real and unwavering.
Memories flashedour conversations, his quiet support, the way he *valued* my thoughts. He hadnt seen Daniels wife. Hed seen *me*. Flawed, imperfect Olivia.
I looked at this steady, reliable man whod always been there and knew my heart had chosen long ago.
Ethan, shall we try?
Hope lit his face. Youll marry me?
Time stopped. The hurt melted away. Everything before this moment felt like a long, winding road leading me to himto someone who loved me not for the show but the soul. Silently. Faithfully.
Yes, I breathed, tears streamingbut this time, they were different. Yes, Ethan. Absolutely yes.
No grand speech. Just a small box from his pocket, holding a worn key.
To my flat. *Our* flat, if you want. Ive carried it like a lucky charm.
He pulled me into the safest embrace Id ever known.
