Deep Cut… Deep Hurt

Graham and I had been inseparable since childhood. We grew up together, shared countless memories, and supported each other through thick and thin. I cared deeply for him, but never once considered him in a romantic light. We grew up, went our separate ways, but our bond remained strong. Every year, we would reconnect for a vacation, just the two of us, like we always had.

It was on one of these trips that Graham met Gladys. He fell for her quickly, and I was supposed to be happy for him. But instead, I found myself uneasy about her. Something about her rubbed me the wrong way, and I couldn’t shake the feeling. Graham, of course, didn’t understand. He accused me of being cold and distant, of using our friendship as an excuse to push his girlfriend away. The worst part? He accused me of being jealous — of secretly harboring feelings for him and not wanting him with her.

Those words cut deep. I’d never imagined he saw me that way. After that confrontation, things between us were never the same. The distance grew, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t mend the rift. Our mutual friends attempted to intervene, but Graham was adamant. He insisted that our friendship couldn’t continue, not when I harbored feelings for him that he could never return. It felt like I was losing him all over again.

My parents asked about my feelings for Graham, and I was disgusted by the implication. I had never thought of him like that, and to have anyone even suggest it felt like an invasion of my heart.

Then came the news: Graham was getting married. And I wasn’t invited. I thought I had already felt the pain of our drifting apart, but this? This was a whole new level of hurt. We’d made promises when we were kids — I was supposed to be his best man, he my maid of honor. Now, nothing. My parents were invited, but I wasn’t.

When my parents pressed him about the snub, he claimed that his fiancée didn’t want me there. That was the final blow. My parents, too, declined his invitation, but the damage had been done.

At first, I refused to believe it. I thought it was just another rumor, something to numb the pain. I didn’t want to know the details; I just wanted to forget about it, to distance myself from the whole mess.

But a few days later, there was a knock on my door. It was late, and I wasn’t expecting anyone. When I saw Graham through the peephole, a mix of emotions surged inside me. Part of me wanted to slam the door in his face, to let him feel what it was like to be ignored. But the other part of me — the part that had always cared for him — felt a flicker of curiosity.

I opened the door without a word, and he stepped inside. Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees. His eyes were bloodshot, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I need you. I don’t want to be alone. I want my best friend back.”

And then he told me everything. He spoke of Gladys, his fiancée, the woman he had chosen to marry, the woman he had loved. He spoke of the signs he’d ignored — the red flags that had been there all along — until the moment he caught her in their honeymoon suite, in bed with their wedding florist, hours before the ceremony.

I listened, but the hurt inside me grew. I could see the pain in his eyes, but all I felt was a hollow ache. This was the same man who had accused me of being jealous, of being petty, just because I didn’t trust his girlfriend. Now, he was here, asking for my help only because his world had crumbled around him.

As he poured his heart out, all I could think about was how selfish he was. He had never thought twice about our friendship until he needed me, until his perfect world shattered. I couldn’t help but feel vindicated — my instincts had been right about Gladys all along.

I couldn’t offer him my shoulder to cry on. I couldn’t let him back into my life after everything. “You need to see someone,” I told him. “A therapist, maybe. I can’t fix this for you.”

He begged me to let him stay the night, to give him a place to heal. But I stood my ground. “You need to leave. I’m sorry, but I can’t be the one to fix your broken heart. You never considered me when it mattered. And now that you’re in pain, you want to come back. That’s not how this works.”

Graham left that night, and I was left alone with my thoughts. Maybe I was being cruel, but I knew one thing for certain: I couldn’t open my door to someone who had never truly respected the bond we shared.