How to Destroy Your Girlfriend for Your "Best Friend"

My boyfriend's "best female friend" was angry again.

Why? Because for our five-year anniversary, he got a gift just for me—and forgot about hers.

Simone Baker threw a complete fit, sobbing and making a huge scene. Scott Tanner immediately blocked me and removed me on Instagram, then changed our matching couple profile pictures.

"Girls can be so dramatic," he said. "Once I've calmed her down, we'll switch them back."

I reminded him, "That makes a hundred times now."

He just smiled and gave me a quick kiss. "I know. I'll make it fast this time."

That night, Simone posted a status update: [Your effort was acceptable. You get three days of freedom.]

Almost immediately, Scott unblocked me.

[Okay, babe. We can put our couple pictures back now.]

But then a male account—using my half of the matching photo—sent him a friend request, followed by a single question mark.

[Since when are couple photos a group project?]

Scott looked at the message from the unknown account and suddenly laughed.

"Babe, you finally figured out how to get under my skin."

He shook his phone lightly, stood up, and pulled me into his arms. "This is on me. For the last ninety-nine times, you never really got mad. So you've finally learned to be upset, huh?"

"I'm not 'getting upset.'" I pushed him away. "I'm breaking up with you. For real."

"Hahaha!"

Scott wrapped his arm around me again. "Okay, okay. I know I messed up. They say fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me… but you put up with me ninety-nine times. Of course I should've gotten a clue.

"That's why I came back this time. To make it right."

A gift box appeared in front of me.

When I opened it, twelve pigeon's blood rubies lay inside, perfectly arranged.

"Last year around this time, you said you'd marry the man who bought you sunrise rubies. Sweetheart, twelve stones—one for every month. Do you like what I've been working on this past year?"

Without warning, Scott dropped to one knee. A diamond ring glinted in his hand.

At the same moment, the doors to the surrounding rooms flew open. Our mutual friends rushed out, setting off party poppers.

"Happy 25th birthday, Fiona!"

"Marry him! Marry him!"

It was so overwhelming I didn't know how to react.

At the last auction, a single set of these precious rubies had gone for ten million.

I'd only said it offhandedly. He actually remembered?

As streamers tangled in my hair, Scott took my hand and slid the diamond ring onto my finger. "Baby, I've been waiting for this day forever."

Suddenly, his phone rang.

He answered it—and the smile on his face vanished.

I could hear Simone's furious voice clearly through the receiver, "Who said you could propose?! I only gave you three days of freedom! Forgetting my gift was bad enough, and now you propose to her?! Did you get my permission?! What do you think I am?!"

Scott went rigid.

Then, almost on instinct, he looked toward our group of friends.

One of them, who had been filming the whole thing, froze and quickly lowered his phone.

Scott shot him a murderous look, yanked the ring off my finger, and turned to leave.

"No, Simone—wait, I wasn't trying to hide it from you!"

"Hey! Scott!"

Someone tried to stop him. "What about Fiona—"

"Forget about her! Just clean this up!"

Someone glanced at me, shook his head, clicked his tongue, and closed the box of rubies before taking it away.

"Tsk. I thought Scott was finally serious this time. Guess some people just don't have the luck."

"Hah, what do you think he'll have to do to get back in Simone's good graces this time? She's seriously pissed."

"Well, if nothing else, he can give that box of rubies to Simone to smooth things over, right?"

That night, Simone did post an update.

A photo of the twelve rubies, tossed in a trash can. The caption read: [If it's something dirty that someone else touched, I don't want it.]

Right after that, another post went live on her account.