Replaced? No, I Moved On

I pushed open the door.

The room went dead silent.

Barry's eyes flicked to me, a flash of impatience crossing his face.

I smiled. "I've been listening at the door for a while. I'm not embarrassed, so why are you?"

Discomfort flickered across his expression. His mouth opened slightly, like he was about to say something.

The whole room seemed to hold its breath.

Then, just like that, Lyla swept in like a butterfly, flinging herself into Barry's arms. He caught her automatically, his voice soft with reprimand. "You're not a kid anymore. What if you fell?"

Lyla giggled. "That's why I have you."

Barry's smile deepened. He playfully pinched her nose, eyes dripping with affection.

Something inside me froze.

I knew Barry didn't love me. I had accepted it.

But watching them like this? It still cut deep.

And when my gaze landed on the sparkling diamond on Lyla's finger, the pain turned suffocating.

That ring—one-of-a-kind. A true love piece. Something you could only custom-order once in a lifetime.

I had seen it before. In Barry's pocket.

Back then, I thought it was meant for me.

But on the day of our engagement, he slid a pair of plain, forgettable bands onto my finger instead.

I still remembered the way my parents' expressions darkened when they saw those cheap rings.

I hadn't minded. Barry told me he made them himself.

I even reassured my parents. Told them those were just engagement rings—that I had already seen the real one. The one he'd custom-made for me.

Never, not even in my worst nightmares, did I think I'd see that ring on Lyla's finger.

Humiliation crashed over me. The band on my own hand burned like a brand.

I thought back to my past self, so full of joy, so blind. I had never felt like more of a fool.

Tears pricked at my eyes.

Then Lyla noticed me. Something flickered in her gaze.

She pointed straight at me. "Barry, who's this girl? A friend of yours?"

Barry stiffened. Panic flashed across his face.

Then, instinctively—without hesitation—he denied me. "No. She's not my friend."

Lyla tilted her head. "If she's not your friend, then who is she?"

A thin sheen of sweat formed on Barry's forehead. His gaze snapped to me, cold. Accusing. Like I was the problem. Like I had put him in this mess.

Bitterness curdled in my chest.

And then, just like that, he drove the knife all the way in.

"She's my buddy's girlfriend. She came here looking for him."

The guy next to me jolted out of his daze, then jumped in fast. "Yeah, yeah, my girlfriend. She's with me."

I stood frozen in place.

Barry's warning gaze shattered whatever shred of hope I had left.

Lyla, completely oblivious to the silent war between us, tilted her head. "But they don't look like a couple, Barry. You're not lying to me, are you?

"She's looking at you kinda weird."

Barry's voice turned sharp. "What's weird about it? You're overthinking again... Fine, what would make you believe me?"

Lyla's smile was all sugar. "Have them kiss."

I didn't move. Didn't speak. Just looked at Barry.

He hesitated.

Then, voice flat, he said, "Fine. Kiss her."