Imatched with a guy on a dating app. He seemed vaguely familiar, but I brushed it off. We started flirting. Before our date, I checked his socials.
My heart sank when I realized he was my best friend’s husband. I decided to come clean and showed her our conversation. What she did next felt like a slap in the face. She took my hand and smiled calm but cold. “Thank you for telling me,” she said softly. Then her tone shifted, sharp and cutting. “But let’s not pretend this was an accident.”
I froze. “What?” I barely managed to say.
Her grip tightened. “You’ve always wanted what I have. Always. But this? This is too far.”
I felt the air leave my lungs. “I didn’t know! I told you as soon as I realized!”
She pulled her hand away and stood, glaring down at me. “Save it. I’ve seen the way you look at him—at everything that’s mine. Maybe it’s time we take a break. I don’t need this in my life.”
And just like that, she walked away. I sat there, stunned, my heart shattered. I thought honesty would save our friendship, but instead, it destroyed it.
It didn’t end there. She blocked me on everything—social media, phone, everywhere. She told our friends a twisted version of what happened, one where I was the villain trying to steal her husband.
I wanted to fight back, to tell my side, but what would be the point? She was hurt and lashed out, but in doing so, she erased years of friendship, years of memories, as if they meant nothing. I thought we were unbreakable. I was wrong.
