I was supposed to meet Ethan at the hospital at 9:00 a.m.

He promised he’d be there—promised he’d hold my hand before I went into surgery.

But as the minutes dragged on, I sat in the back of a cab, clutching my phone, staring at the screen. No Ethan. No text. No call.

Just the same automated voice over and over:

“The number you have dialed is currently busy.”

By the time I checked in at the front desk, my phone finally lit up.

“Mia,” he said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry… I wanted to be there, but… something happened. Leah called me crying. Said she might hurt herself. I didn’t know what to do.”

I didn’t argue.

I just hung up.

Because deep down, I already knew the truth: she did it on purpose.

Let me back up.

Leah was my colleague. Smart, polished, always a little too involved in everyone’s business.

One afternoon, she invited me out for lunch. Her boyfriend came. So did her best friend, Ethan. Somewhere between appetizers and awkward jokes, Leah beamed and said, “You two should totally date!”

I laughed it off. But a few days later, Ethan messaged me. And to my surprise, he was charming—genuine. He pursued me.

Leah, of course, was always in the background, feeding him hints about me like she was his personal Cupid.