The Door That Won’t Open
(Iris’s POV)

Watching Joe and Emily solidify their love in front of everyone; right there at the table, ring sliding onto her finger, tears in her eyes, that radiant smile; should have been pure joy for me. And it was. God, it was. I was happy for them; incredibly happy. Excited for their future, for the life they’d build, for every beautiful moment still ahead. But beneath the happiness, beneath the applause and the tears I let fall freely, there was that stupid, stubborn, nagging ache I couldn’t silence.

I couldn’t have him. I couldn’t have her. And the realization that I never would felt like a door slamming shut in my chest.

It didn’t come from nowhere. Working with Joe had always been more than just a job. He was brilliant, yes, but he treated me like an equal; never “assistant,” always “partner.” He valued my input, listened when I spoke, trusted my instincts. More than once I’d caught myself wondering, in the quiet hours after a late-night edit or a long shoot, what it would be like if we were more. He was handsome in that effortless, understated way; broad shoulders, steady hands, the way he moved behind the camera like he owned every angle. The models noticed. They always noticed. I’d seen it in their eyes, the way they lingered after a pose, the way they asked; half joking, half serious; if he had a girlfriend. If he knew he could have any of them with a single look, he never acted like it.

Then Emily came into his life, and I understood. She was gorgeous; is gorgeous; bright, funny, fierce, everything he needed. When they met, I saw the shift in him immediately. I knew he was smitten before he did. And I was happy for him. Truly. They became this perfect little unit, and somehow I became part of it; unofficial family of three. Emily and I grew close fast; she became my best friend, my confidante, my sister in everything but blood. We’d changed in front of each other a hundred times; gym locker rooms, hotel rooms, beach trips. I knew her body almost as well as my own: small, perky breasts, smooth skin, that sweet curve of her hips. And she knew mine.

The one accidental glimpse of Joe; naked and wet in his office shower; had burned itself into my brain. Thick, heavy, half-hard from the steam. Emily laughed it off, but I’d never forgotten. And neither had she.

It was inevitable she’d say yes tonight. They held each other like they’d been together for centuries, like they’d always been meant to end up here. When she whispered “Yes,” the table erupted; cheers, happy sobs, applause. I recorded it with as steady a hand as I could manage, tears blurring my vision. The other girls snatched their phones too, capturing the moment.

Kate leaned toward me, voice soft. “They look so happy.”

I nodded, throat tight. “They really do.”

The red-carpet kiss earlier had been meant to be performative; Emily’s clever idea to spark buzz for Joe’s career. But the way Kate had folded into him, the way she’d slipped her tongue into his mouth, lingering, claiming… that hadn’t been acting. I’d felt it from ten feet away; the heat, the surrender. Emily had given a little “oh” of surprise, but her eyes had darkened with arousal, not anger. She’d watched them kiss like it turned her on. And it had turned me on too. My thighs had pressed together under the table all through dinner, my panties damp from the memory of their lips locked, Kate’s hand possessive on Joe’s neck, Emily’s quiet permission in her gaze.

Now, as Joe slid the ring onto Emily’s finger and she threw her arms around him, I wiped tears from my cheeks while she wiped mine. We embraced; her arms tight around me, Joe folding us both into his chest. I felt their bodies against mine, warm and solid and so painfully right. Like this; us three together; was the way it should be.

But it could never be.

Because it wasn’t just my heart that wanted them. It was my body too. Every aching inch of me wanted Joe’s hands on me, Emily’s mouth on mine, the three of us tangled together until we couldn’t tell where one ended and the others began. I wanted to feel him stretch me open while she kissed me, wanted to taste her on his cock, wanted to hear them both moan my name.

I pulled back, smiling through the tears, congratulating them again. Emily kissed my cheek, Joe hugged me tighter.

I loved them. I loved them so much it hurt.

And after tonight; after the champagne, the joy, the inevitable toasts; I’d have to tell them I was leaving. Because staying would mean admitting what I really wanted. And I couldn’t be the wedge that came between them.

Even if every part of me; heart and body; screamed to stay.