I thought my life was perfect. I had a loving husband, a newborn daughter, and a best friend who was like family. But one terrible night destroyed everything. Ten years later, when I had finally started to heal, she showed up at my door—like a ghost from my past.
Everyone has that one best friend, the kind who feels more like a sister. The person who knows all your secrets, who has been with you through every high and low. That was Katie for me. But Katie shattered my world.
We met in school and became inseparable. We did everything together—projects, birthdays, sleepovers. People even called us twins, even though we didn’t look alike. As we got older, our personalities changed, but it didn’t weaken our bond.
Katie was wild and full of energy. She was the life of the party—the one dancing on tables, laughing the loudest, always stealing the spotlight.
So when I told her I was getting married, I expected her to joke about it. And she did.
“Well, never mind,” she had said with a grin. “I’ll have fun for both of us.”
Katie and my fiancé, Dave, became friends too—mostly because they had no choice. I spent so much time with Katie that anyone in my life had to accept her as part of the deal. At my wedding, she even cried, though she had sworn she wouldn’t.
“Do you want me to throw the bouquet to you?” I teased her during the reception.
Katie’s eyes widened. “If you throw that thing at me, I will never forgive you! My soul is not ready for commitment.” We both burst into laughter.
When I got pregnant, Katie was as excited as I was. She was there for everything—holding my hair when I had morning sickness, helping me pick baby clothes, even scrubbing my floors when my belly got too big. I was endlessly grateful for her friendship.
The delivery was hard, but when Maya was born, Katie became even more involved. She doted on my baby, showered her with gifts, and even stayed overnight to help. She called herself “Aunt Katie” and acted like part of the family.
One evening, as we sat in the kitchen drinking tea, I asked her, “Maybe you want a baby too?”
Katie shook her head. “Oh, no. Too much responsibility.”
“But you’re so good with Maya,” I said. “You feed her, rock her to sleep, help me more than anyone.”
She smiled faintly. “Because she’s your baby, not mine. That’s different. I like helping, but I don’t want this life.”
“You don’t want a family?”
“No. Not now. Maybe not ever. One man, one house, one life—it feels like a trap.”
I looked at her, thoughtful. “I want this. I want it with Dave.”
Katie sighed. “You got lucky. Dave is rare. Most men aren’t like him.”
Just then, Dave walked in. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and grinned. “Katie, here again? Maybe we should just give you a key. You basically live here.”
We all laughed. But later, I would realize that joke was closer to the truth than I ever imagined.
One night, when Maya was three months old, Katie stayed over again. The baby had colic and was crying a lot. Katie insisted on helping.
It was late, and the house was quiet. But something woke me. I heard a noise and sat up. At first, I thought it was Maya. But no. The sound was coming from downstairs.
I reached over to touch Dave’s side of the bed. It was empty.
Confused, I got up and walked toward the kitchen. I was still half-asleep, but as I got closer, I heard voices. Then I saw them.
Katie. Dave.
My breath caught in my throat. My heart pounded. I froze in the doorway, unable to believe what I was seeing.
Katie saw me first. Her face turned pale. She jumped away from Dave, scrambling to pull her clothes on.
Dave, on the other hand, didn’t even flinch. He stood there, looking at me like nothing was wrong.
Katie started crying, dropping to her knees. “Alexis, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—please, forgive me!” she sobbed.
My whole body was shaking. “Why?” My voice was barely a whisper. “Why would you do this to me?”
Katie’s face crumpled. “I don’t know what happened! Please, it was a mistake! I swear, it won’t happen again.”
She reached for me, but Dave pulled her up. “Don’t humiliate yourself,” he muttered. Then he turned to me, his voice cold. “You brought this on yourself, Alexis. We haven’t been together in months.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Because I just had your baby! I gave birth to our daughter! And now you say this?”
“I’m a man. I have needs,” he said.
“And I’m your wife!” I shouted. “But that didn’t stop you from sleeping with my best friend!”
Dave sighed, like I was being unreasonable. “You let her stay here. You let her sleep over. What did you expect?”
“ARE YOU AN ANIMAL?!” I screamed.
Dave’s face remained blank. “I’m not explaining anything. You won’t understand.”
Then, just like that, he took Katie by the hand and walked out.
I collapsed into a chair, shaking. My whole world had fallen apart.
Dave never came back. I filed for divorce and won full custody of Maya. He didn’t fight it. He left everything behind. And I was left alone, raising my daughter, trying to rebuild my life. It was hard. But I survived.
Ten years passed. Maya grew up into a smart, kind girl. I worked hard, found peace, and stopped thinking about them.
Then one day, my doorbell rang.
I opened it and froze. Katie stood there, thin and exhausted, her eyes hollow.
“Hello, Alexis,” she whispered.
I swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”
Her lip trembled. “I have no one else to go to.” She burst into tears.
I stepped aside. “Come in.”
We sat on the couch. She looked broken.
“I’m sick,” she admitted. “I need treatment. I need money. I didn’t know where else to turn.”
I stared at her. “And Dave?”
She laughed bitterly. “He cheated again. We broke up two years later. I was just another mistake for him.”
I nodded. “No surprise there.”
Her voice shook. “I know I don’t deserve kindness. I hurt you. And now… now it feels like life is hurting me back.”
“Why did you do it?” I asked.
She hesitated. “Maybe I was jealous. You had everything—a family, a home. I didn’t know how to handle it. I made a terrible mistake.”
“You never wanted my life,” I said. “You said it yourself.”
“Maybe I did. Maybe I just didn’t know. I can’t explain it. I just… I’m sorry. Truly sorry.”
“Apologies don’t change the past.”
“I know.”
I sighed. “This conversation is over.”
She stood, looking defeated. But as she reached the door, I handed her an envelope. “This is for your treatment. If you need more, let me know.”
Her eyes filled. “I don’t deserve this.”
“Maybe not. But you were once my friend. I can’t let you suffer.”
She hugged me. And, though it hurt, I hugged her back. Because life had already punished her more than I ever could.
