After I Left, He Regretted Choosing His First Love

Right then, my phone buzzed with a friend request.

The verification message was brazen, not even trying to hide it.

【I'm Kevin's first love. I need to talk to you.】

I curled and uncurled my fingers, then finally hit accept.

Less than half a second later, a voice message popped up at the top of the screen.

Bertha's tone was light, almost cheerful.

“Ms. Henson, right?”

“I heard that while I was away these past few years, you were the one keeping Kevin company?”

“Thanks for filling in for me. But I'm back now, so it's time for you to go.”

Each sentence cut into me like a blade, carving line after line across my heart.

My body went rigid. My mind just stopped.

A stand-in?

Three years of loving Kevin, and I was nothing but a stand-in?

My phone buzzed again. Bertha had sent a shared account link.

It was a couple's account, filled with photos and posts of Kevin and Bertha together. Their daily life. Their love.

Over ten years of it.

But in our three years together,

Kevin never once allowed me to post anything about us online. Not a single trace.

“Maura, we don't need other people to know we're dating. A relationship isn't a performance.”

A bitter laugh slipped out before I could stop it.

So in Kevin's mind, being with me was a performance. Being with Bertha wasn't.

His principles had an exception, and that exception was her.

A sharp, strange pain surged through my chest.

Their photo was pinned at the top of the account, impossible to miss.

Kevin's eyes held a tenderness I had never seen.

Bertha was beaming, cradled in his arms.

My hands shook as I noticed the mole on the tip of Bertha's nose.

In the exact same spot as mine.

In every memory I had, Kevin would run his thumb over the mole on my nose.

I'd once thought about having it removed.

He refused outright.

“Maura, there's no reason to remove it. It's what makes you unique.”

I'd smiled and dropped the idea.

But now it all made sense.

He just didn't want me to stop looking like her.

I bit down hard on my knuckle, forcing the tears back, and turned toward the window.

Under the dim streetlight below, a girl was ducking her head, shyly confessing her feelings to someone.

The blush on her face looked exactly like mine had, back then.

The very first time I saw Kevin, I fell for him on the spot.

I'd assumed my feelings for him would only ever be like a moth bumping against a lampshade, clumsy and hopeless.

But then a violent incident at the hospital threw us together again.

A patient's family member, unable to accept a failed surgery, had stormed through the hospital with a knife, stabbing anyone in his path.

I wasn't hurt, because Kevin stepped in front of the blade for me.

Blood poured from his abdomen, and my tears poured just as freely.

But Kevin just smiled, reached up, and wiped my tears away.

“Don't cry. It doesn't hurt. Getting hurt for you is something I'd do willingly.”

That willingness made me believe we were running toward each other.

The truth was, I was the moth all along, and I'd already been burned to nothing by the flame.

I just hadn't realized it until now.

Three years of feelings, even uglier than I'd imagined.

My heart felt like it was being wrung in a fist, the pain so raw I couldn't keep my eyes open.

The darkened screen suddenly lit up again. A call from the hospital.

“Dr. Henson, your Doctors Without Borders application has been approved. You leave in three days.”

“No need to come to the hospital before then. Just get your essentials packed.”

Something settled in my chest, and the call swept away most of the anguish swirling inside me.

Joining Doctors Without Borders had always been my dream. The hospital had only started offering spots in recent years.

But I'd never applied. Because of Kevin.

Now, finally, I was getting what I'd always wanted.

I hung up.

I let out a long breath and typed a reply to Bertha.

【I'm not the one leaving. You're the one taking back secondhand goods.】

【Ms. Barnes, do the world a favor and keep your trash off the market.】