I was coaxed into a hotel by Zamir, my childhood friend. Just when things were about to reach their peak, he stopped.

“No, we’re like family.”

A bitter feeling welled up inside me, but naively, I thought he was doing it for my own good. It wasn’t until the next day that I overheard him reassuring another girl:

“See, last night she was right there in front of me, and I held back.”

“I really have no interest in her. Doesn’t that prove my loyalty to you?”

---

We were just a step away from everything finally coming together when Zamir abruptly stopped, climbing off me to sit on the edge of the bed, catching his breath.

I looked at him in confusion, wanting to ask, but feeling too shy to find the words. His voice was hoarse as he softly said, “Kya, no, we’re like family.”

I thought I’d misheard him and stared at him in disbelief. “Listen, we can’t cross this line.” His tone was gentle, yet it made clear his rejection and the boundary not to be crossed.

I felt humiliated, my face burning with embarrassment, wishing I could disappear. But I also felt incredibly hurt—after all, he was the one who’d initiated this.

He had flown out to see me, asking if we should give us a try. I’d thought my long-held secret crush was finally blossoming, and I had shyly agreed. Now it seemed like I was the one clinging to him, unable to let go.

He dressed quickly, rustling around in the dim light. There was a click, and suddenly the room was flooded with light as Zamir got off the bed, gathered my clothes from the floor, and placed them next to me.

“I had too much to drink. Don’t dwell on tonight; it’s better if we stay friends,” he said.

My heart ached, and the brightness of the room made tears spill from my eyes. As he left, he turned back to gently tuck the blanket around me. Seeing my sadness, he smiled and said, “Already crying? Didn’t we agree to be friends forever?”

That childhood joke had turned into his excuse now. We’d grown up together, sharing years of unspoken affection. He’d held my hand, kissed my lips, yet always told others, “We’re friends.”

Now I hate the word “friend.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his cool fingers gently wiping away my tears.

I’m shy and not very articulate, and although I was hurt, I didn’t blame him. It seemed I had no right to; he had never called me his girlfriend.

Continuing to entangle myself in this would only make me seem more pathetic. Yet the feeling of injustice stifled me, unable to be expressed to anyone else.

I spent the entire night lost in thought, finally consoling myself with the notion that maybe he truly valued me, enough to maintain that final boundary.

The next day, Adler texted me: [We’re having a gathering and you're the only one missing. Come join us.]

Following the address he sent, I arrived at the private room.

Just as I was about to open the door, I overheard the conversation inside.

"If there was really something between us, we'd already be a couple. I've always thought of Kya like one of the guys," said Zamir. Through the crack in the door, I saw him with his arm around a girl in a Victorian-style dress, his usual taste.

"Look, she stripped in front of me last night, and I still kept my cool."

My ears started ringing, as if I had been struck by lightning. I stood frozen outside the door, my mind going blank.

He played a recording, and my voice came through. It was a clip from our time in the rented room last night.

The spring sunshine was warming the world outside, yet a chill crept from my feet to my head, leaving me icy cold.

Everyone burst into laughter and commented:

"Kya always seems so shy, but in bed, she's something else."

"Didn't see that coming!"

"No way, Zamir, you had Kya in bed last night and didn’t do anything? That’s some serious self-control!"

"Aren’t you worried you’d lose it?"

Zamir leaned back on the sofa, looking intently at the girl beside him:

"Not a chance; it’s Keilani’s challenge for me, and I can't mess it up."

"Everyone says once you commit, you see it through. Walking away halfway? That's not how it usually goes."

"She has quite a figure, aren't you curious about how she looks naked, Zamir? Any thoughts?"

He shook his head with a smirk:

"Nothing worth mentioning."

The people at this gathering were our classmates.

I felt like I had been publicly exposed, my dignity trampled.

I wanted nothing more than to burst in and defend myself, but realized my words would be powerless.

Going in to explain would only degrade me further, making me seem foolish.

In the end, I stood outside, fists clenched, nails digging into my palms.

"Keilani, you've done it, Zamir’s finally met his match," someone noted.

"But don't you think you're playing with fire?"

Keilani raised an eyebrow, a self-satisfied look on her face:

"I just mentioned it; Zamir did all the rest to prove himself."

"Baby, I’m really not interested in her at all. Does this pass your test now?" Zamir leaned in and whispered to Keilani, "After everything last night, do you still have doubts?"

Keilani blushed, teasing him:

"I believe you, but not her."

"I said she's just pretending to be one of the guys to play it coy."

"If she were truly innocent, she wouldn’t have been so easy."

"Exactly, my wife is so perceptive," Zamir said in front of everyone, allowing her to continue to malign me.

My entire body shook, barely able to hold myself up as I leaned against the wall, biting down hard to keep from crying out. Though we never explicitly talked about it, we had shared countless ambiguous moments over the years. I was captivated by him, never rejecting him, and he was always aware of that.

Last night, Zamir, smelling of booze, held me close and murmured sweet nothings as he kissed me. I thought I was wrapped in a wonderful dream, willingly following him to the hotel. Now I understand that everything he did was just to reassure her, to show he had no interest in me.

I was filled with anger and resentment. Just because I love him, does that justify his careless hurt? If he didn't love me, he could have turned me down, kept his distance. I can't understand why he would say such sweet things to me while trying to please someone else—doesn’t he find it repulsive?

"Aren’t you guys being a bit too harsh? Imagine how heartbroken Kya would be if she knew what you were saying about her in private!"

“Just delete the recording,” Adler chimed in, the only one standing up for me. He, Zamir, and I were all neighbors in the same complex; being younger, he always called me his sister.

Zamir gave a sarcastic smile. "Kya’s always been easygoing. What's there to worry about? She's not really going to get mad."

But under Adler's insistent urging, Zamir reluctantly picked up his phone. "Fine, fine, I'll delete it. It was just for Keilani to see. Since everyone has watched it, it's useless now."

"Honestly, what does it matter if she’s upset? In the grand scheme of things, my girlfriend comes first."

With that, he leaned over and kissed Keilani on the cheek. She playfully hit his chest, "Fine, since I’m the priority, I don’t want you staying in touch with her."

"Alright, I promise."

“Is there some group chat you all share?” Keilani asked.

Zamir nodded. "Rodrigo, let's go ahead and remove Kya from the group. For now, we won't invite her to gatherings. I need to give Keilani some peace of mind."

Adler stood up, frustrated. "You're going to kick her out just because she’s a girl?!"

But Rodrigo scolded him. "Zamir’s finally found someone, and we all need to support him. Don’t create conflict!"

As the leader of our group, Rodrigo spoke firmly to Adler. "Regarding Kya, she’ll understand. Once Zamir’s relationship stabilizes, she can come back. As a good friend, she should bear some inconvenience. She’s been trailing Zamir all this time, causing misunderstandings."

He gestured to Zamir. "Carry on, guys."

Everyone started cheering, shouting, "Go for another kiss!" Zamir didn’t hesitate, pinning Keilani to the couch and kissing her deeply.

Adler’s expression darkened as he pulled out his phone and headed for the door. I quickly slipped into the nearby bathroom, my phone on silent, not daring to answer his persistent calls.

A message popped up on my phone:

[Kya, have you arrived? We’ve already split up. Don’t come.]

I knew he didn’t want me to face embarrassment, so I replied,

[Not yet. Got it.]

Tears streaming down my face, I zoned out in the bathroom for a long time, trying to calm my emotions. Eventually, I splashed some water on my face from the faucet, then stumbled out the door.