Julie was celebrating her birthday—Julie, my husband Nathan’s so-called buddy. She had insisted all the husbands bring their wives along, saying it was time we all got to know each other better.

I didn’t think much of it—until Nathan smoothly keyed in the code to her front door.

The lock beeped. He glanced back with a smile and said, “Come on in, Eva. Julie’s probably still in the kitchen. I’ll go help her.”

Then he walked right in, flipping on the lights without a pause.

……

Julie. The woman Nathan called his “best friend,” closer than a sister, he always said.

Three other women were already seated in the living room. A cold laugh rose inside me.

There was Lily, married to Aaron for two years after a blind date. Timid by nature, she sat nervously twisting the hem of her shirt.

Then Hailey. She and Mark were college sweethearts, the couple everyone used to envy. Now, the exhaustion in her eyes was plain to see.

And Nova, the calmest of us all. Hers was an arranged marriage to Kyle. A polite, unshakable smile was fixed on her face, as if nothing could ever ruffle her.

So there we were, the four of us, sitting on a stranger’s sofa while our husbands buzzed around another woman like eager puppies.

“Nathan, taste this for me—does it need more salt?” Julie’s voice came from the kitchen, sweet as syrup. She wore a spaghetti-strap dress a size too small.

Nathan put down the fruit platter at once and hurried over. He picked up the ladle, tasted, then reached for the salt shaker. His movements were practiced, effortless—like he owned the place.

“Coming, coming! *My* Eva likes her food salty. I know just how much to add.” He even threw a grin back at me, beaming with pride.

I forced a stiff smile. My stomach turned.

*My* Eva likes things salty?

For a man who couldn’t tell soy sauce from vinegar after a decade of marriage, he was certainly painting himself as a gourmet.

"Nathan, you’re the best, you know?" Julie took the ladle from him. Her tongue flicked out to taste from the spoon—a slow, deliberate motion—before her heavy, suggestive gaze slid back to him.

The doorbell chimed, and the rest of the men arrived.

Aaron stepped in first, producing an elegant gift box from behind his back. "Happy birthday, Julie! Look what I got you."

Lily paled.

I recognized the brand instantly: that luxury hairpin she’d been eyeing for months but could never justify buying.

"Ah! The Starlight Collection!" Julie shrieked, throwing her arms around Aaron. "You’re amazing!"

Flushing, Aaron glanced toward Lily, though his words were for Julie. "I’m glad you like it. Your, uh, your sister-in-law… she’s not really into flashy things."

Lily’s head sank lower. Her hands trembled.

Next was Mark. He handed over a small jewelry box. Inside, a pair of gold bracelets glittered.

Hailey’s eyes welled up at once.

I remembered her complaining just days before. The company was finally turning a corner, she’d said—or so she’d thought—but Mark had claimed funds were tight and asked her to hold off on any new jewelry.

So this was where the money went.

"Thank you, Mark! I knew you had taste!" Without hesitation, Julie slid the bracelets on and lifted her wrist to his face. "How do they look?"

"Beautiful," he said, his voice soft. "Everything looks beautiful on you." The tenderness in his eyes was something I’d never seen before.

Hailey bit her lip until it went pale, her nails digging into her palms.

Finally, it was Kyle’s turn. He presented a clothing bag. Nova gave it the barest glance, her polite smile never wavering.

“Oh my god, it’s that pajama set from the magazine! Kyle, you’re amazing!” Julie’s voice pierced the air, shrill with excitement.

“As long as you like it,” Kyle replied simply before taking his seat beside Nova. He leaned in, murmuring, “Tired?”

Nova shook her head and lifted her water glass for a sip, as though the whole spectacle held no relevance for her.

Watching the absurd scene, I could only feel a bitter, hollow amusement.

Here were four men, using money their wives had either scrimped to save or worked hard to earn, buying gifts for another woman and currying her favor—all under the banner of “brotherhood.”

And we four wives sat there like fools, bearing witness to this grand betrayal.

The birthday party officially began. Julie took the seat of honor, flanked on either side by the four men, while we wives were squeezed into the corner of the table.

“Come on, it’s my birthday—we have to play something fun!” Julie announced, flushed from a few drinks, her eyes slightly glazed. “Let’s play King’s Cup!”

The men cheered in agreement, Nathan especially enthusiastic. “Great! Whoever loses drinks three shots!”

From the sidelines, I watched coldly, refusing to join.

The first round made Aaron the King.

He looked at the card in his hand, then at Julie’s expectant face, cleared his throat, and declared, “Numbers 2 and 5—drink a crossed-arm toast!”

No sooner had he spoken than Julie raised her card—number 2—laughing with delight.

And the number 5 card lay in Nathan’s hand.