Third Wheel

I walk into the apartment and see Jane and my girlfriend, Taylor, lounging on the couch, absorbed in a TV show.

“Oh hey, what’s up?” Jane asks casually, her voice light and teasing.

“Hey,” I respond quietly, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach.

“Hiii, baby!” Taylor chirps, her excitement bubbling over as she jumps up to envelop me in a warm hug.

I squirm uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact.

“What is Jane doing here?” I ask, irritation creeping into my voice despite my efforts to keep it in check.

Jane, Taylor’s best friend, has always been critical of me, and I can’t shake the feeling that she’s constantly comparing me to Taylor’s ex, making me feel like an outsider in my own relationship.

“Um... I was just hanging out with Taylor,” Jane mumbles softly, fidgeting with her hands in her lap. I notice her cheeks flush a deep crimson, betraying her discomfort.

Taylor frowns at me, her brow furrowing with disapproval.

“That was rude. You need to apologize to Jane right now.”

I stare down at my feet, embarrassment flooding through me, mingled with a sense of hurt.

“I-it’s okay,” Jane stammers, trying to ease the tension, though her voice quivers with uncertainty.

“I understand if I’m intruding. I can leave if you want some alone time.”

She starts to rise from the couch, but Taylor stops her with a firm grip.

“No, stay,” Taylor commands, her eyes blazing with intensity.

“Ero has been rude to you for the last time, Jane, and I think he needs some consequences.”

Jane’s face burns bright red under the weight of Taylor’s words. She sinks back onto the couch, unsure of what to expect.

“O-okay...” she whispers, her gaze darting nervously between Taylor and me.

I turn on Taylor, frustration spilling over.

“So what? Jane is always here, always judging, always criticizing. Why can’t she just accept that we’re together and leave us alone?” I scoff, bitterness lacing my tone.

Jane shrinks into the couch cushions, tears pooling in her eyes.

“You’re wrong, Ero,” she replies softly, her voice trembling.

“I’m not always judging or criticizing. I care about Taylor and want her to be happy.”

She takes a shaky breath, summoning her courage.

“If you truly love Taylor, you wouldn’t speak to her best friend this way. I’ve done nothing to deserve such hostility from you.”

Her gaze flickers to Taylor, pleading for understanding.

Taylor turns to me, her anger palpable, her cheeks flushed.

“Eros Apostasia! You apologize to Jane right now. You either apologize, or you’re out of here. We are finished, and you’ll have to find somewhere else to live.”

“Tell me, are you ready to face the consequences of your actions, or is it over between us?”

As their exchange escalates, my heart pounds in my chest. The chill from Taylor’s ultimatum sends shivers down my spine. Jane gasps, tears spilling over her cheeks.

“P-please, don’t fight because of me,” she chokes out, her voice breaking.

“I’m sorry for causing problems. I’ll leave so you two can work this out privately.”

She stands abruptly, her knees trembling. In her haste, she stumbles forward, falling directly into Taylor’s arms.

“Oh!” Taylor steadies Jane, pulling her into a comforting embrace as they both dissolve into tears.

I can’t bear the thought of losing Taylor. We’ve been together for three years, crafting dreams of our future—finishing college, getting married, naming our future kids, planning our home.

The notion of Jane’s attractiveness is a bitter reminder; I’ve even imagined being with her during moments of intimacy with Taylor—my shame and unspoken desires weighing heavily between us.

In stark contrast to Taylor’s all-American look—clad in a pink satin cami top with delicate lace trim over cutoff denim shorts—Jane wears a maroon cable-knit sweater that slips off one shoulder, paired with a thigh-length floral satin flutter skirt that emphasizes her curves.

I swallow my pride, gritting my teeth as I mutter my apologies.

“No, Jane, please stay.”

She looks up at me, her black cat-eye glasses framing her face, giving her the appearance of a prim, authoritative librarian. A smug smile spreads across her full, pouty lips as she glances at me over Taylor’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry for treating you so poorly, and I accept whatever consequences you and Taylor decide for me.”

“That was very good, sweetie,” Taylor interjects, her tone gleeful.

“Now for your consequences. Jane, you are the injured party here. What do you think his punishment should be for his rudeness?”

Jane freezes, her eyes widening in feigned shock.

“Me? Decide your punishment?” she asks, swallowing hard as panic rises within her.

An idea flashes through her mind, and she bites her lip, contemplating it. Would she dare? No, surely not... Yet that thought sends a forbidden thrill coursing through her veins. She shakes her head slightly, trying to dispel the inappropriate notion.

"Well, um, maybe he could apologize properly? And make amends somehow..." Jane suggests weakly, fully aware that her response falls short of what Taylor envisions, based on the gleam in her eye.

To be continued in chapter 2...