The Best Friend Shared Our Streak

The newly opened highend shopping center downtown was running a promotion. Couples who maintained a 99day messaging streak could claim a free prize.

In our five years together, it was the first time I’d ever begged Wright to keep a streak with me.

He stared at his phone, frowning for what felt like an eternity, before finally giving a reluctant nod. But on the 98th day, the streak went cold.

I called Wright a dozen times, only to get a brusque, impatient response: "I'm busy with work.

I don’t have time for this." On the other end of the line, his voice bristled with annoyance. "Joanna, how old are you?

Still obsessing over cheap freebies?" I watched the 98day flame icon flicker and die, and I cried myself to sleep.

The next day, as I was passing by the mall courtyard, the crowd suddenly erupted into cheers. "Oh my god, someone actually won the grand prize!

A solid gold designer cuff!" "A 999day streak?

How deeply in love do you have to be to keep that going?" I was about to sigh at how beautiful such commitment must be when my phone buzzed in my palm.

My best friend had sent me a photo. On her wrist was a gleaming gold bracelet. "Babe, got this for free.

Isn't it gorgeous?" The background of her photo was the very courtyard I was standing in. Excited, I pushed through the crowd toward the prize pavilion to congratulate her.

Only to discover that the man who shared a 999day streak with my best friend was none other than my fiancé, Wright. … Wright and Serena were standing in the center of the stage, surrounded by a cheering crowd.

The massive LED screen projected their account profiles, showcasing a glowing 999day streak badge.

The host yelled into the microphone, "Congratulations to our beautiful couple for keeping their flame alive for 999 days!

Here is your grand prize—the solid gold designer bracelet!" The applause was deafening. People in the crowd started chanting, "Kiss! Kiss!

You can't leave the stage without a kiss!" Serena flushed, looking up at Wright with wide, shy eyes. Wright pulled her by the waist, leaning in close.

The crowd’s screams grew louder. I stared at the two of them on stage, my nails digging into my palms until it stung.

Just before their lips touched, Wright turned his head slightly, pulling her into a protective, warm embrace instead. "Sorry, guys, my girl is a little shy," he said with an easy, charming smile, holding Serena’s hand as they stepped down from the stage.

I couldn't take it anymore. I marched straight up to them. The moment they saw me, they dropped each other's hands like they’d been shocked.

Wright's eyes flickered with panic for a split second before his expression smoothed over. "Joanna?

What are you doing here?" Serena’s face went pale. "Joanna, please don't get the wrong idea!

We just pretended to be a couple to get the prize." She held up her wrist, flashing the gold bracelet. "See? Just for keeping a 999day streak, we got this.

It was such a steal!" "Just?" To her, a 999day streak with Wright was a daily habit. She had no idea Wright wouldn't even give me 99 days. I didn't look at her.

My eyes were locked on Wright. "Wright, I didn't know you had another girlfriend." Wright remained remarkably poised. "Serena just told you, we played along for a freebie.

You know how she is—still young, loves these silly little promotions." The sheer tenderness in his voice when he spoke about her made my chest burn.

He didn't even realize how he sounded. A sudden, blinding anger flared up inside me. "Wright, I begged you to keep a 99day streak and you said you had no time.

But you have time to keep a 999day streak with her?" "Joanna, that's enough!" Wright's face darkened. "We're getting married next month. Why are you throwing a tantrum over this?

I'll buy you a better bracelet later, okay?" Looking at his condescending expression, a wave of profound exhaustion washed over me. Five years.

He never understood that it was never about the prize. It was about the quiet intimacy of doing something small, together.

He had time to keep a threeyear streak with Serena, time to accompany her to the mall, but no time to reply to my messages. I wanted to scream at him.

He had told me this morning that he had to go to the office to work overtime. Why was he here with my best friend instead? But asking now felt entirely pointless.

Seeing the heavy silence between us, Serena quickly tried to play peacemaker. "Come on, Wright, don't be so harsh on Joanna." She slipped the bracelet off her wrist and shoved it into my hand. "Joanna, don't be mad.

I'll give you the gold bracelet.

I wish you and Wright a lifetime of happiness." Before I could reject it, Wright snatched the bracelet back and slid it back onto Serena's wrist. "This is your prize.

Why give it to her? Didn't you say you've wanted this forever?" "I..." Serena’s face turned red, then pale, stammering.

Wright turned back to me, his brow furrowed. "Joanna, are you seriously going to steal a prize from your own best friend?" I looked at their hands, still hovering close to each other, and laughed. "Is that what you think of me, Wright?

Is that how badly you need to protect her?" Wright froze. I didn't wait for him to answer. I turned and walked out of the mall. No footsteps followed me.

Once again, Wright didn't chase after me. I pulled out my phone and called home.

On the other end, my mother excitedly rattled off updates about the wedding preparations back in our hometown. I stayed quiet for a long moment. "Mom, let's cancel the wedding.

I'm not marrying him." After hanging up, I looked at the fresh groceries piled on my kitchen counter. I began putting them away in the fridge, one by one. Today was the weekend.

I had gone to the market early this morning to prepare a feast for Wright. I had even learned a few new recipes—all his favorites. None of it mattered now.

True to form, Wright didn't come home for dinner. Every time we argued, he would freeze me out, waiting until I couldn't take the silence anymore and crawled back to apologize.

An hour later, Serena updated her social media. The photo showed Wright cutting a steak for her.

The location tag was at the Michelinstarred restaurant I'd mentioned wanting to visit a dozen times—the one Wright always claimed he was "too busy" to take me to.

Her caption read: "Look who treated me to dinner again~" It was pure, unadulterated gloating. Within minutes of posting, she blocked me from seeing her posts.

Then, she sent me a direct text: "Joanna, come join us for dinner! Wright is here too.

You two need to make up." I replied coldly: "No." Every time the three of us ate together, I was always the ghost at the table.

Wright would pour her water, clean her utensils, and put food on her plate. He knew her exact culinary preferences; every dish ordered was her favorite.

Yet, after five years, he still couldn't remember that I hated cilantro. When we went shopping, if Serena stared at something a second too long, he bought it for her.

If she liked a plush toy in a claw machine, he'd spend hundreds of dollars in coins until he caught it. When I asked him to catch one for me, he called me childish.

He always said, "Serena is young. She needs looking after." But she was only a year younger than me. He had never looked after me that way. Wright had always been strict with me.

I was the intern he had personally trained. If there was even a minor error in my proposals, he would haul me into his office and tear me to shreds.

I had cried so many times, rewriting drafts through tears. The whole office called him "the Devil." Yet, the Devil never once raised his voice at Serena.

When she didn't know how to write a proposal, he sat with her and guided her line by line.

When she made a massive error that infuriated a client, he personally handled the damage control, absorbing all the blame. For my mistakes, however, he had zero tolerance.

Salary cuts, demotions—he enforced them without mercy. My phone rang. It was the bridal boutique. "Hi, Ms. Rodney, your custom wedding dress has arrived.

You can come in for a fitting." I gripped the phone tightly. "No need. Just keep it there." I hung up, canceled the hotel venue, and canceled the wedding photographer.

Then, I crawled up on the couch, pulling my knees to my chest, and sobbed until my throat burned.

When we first got engaged, Wright said he was too busy with the company merger and left the entire wedding planning to me.

I worked my day job and spent my nights drafting seating charts and menus.

Whenever I asked for his opinion, his answers were always dismissive. "Whatever you want, Joanna." The only time he finally agreed to accompany me for a fitting, I walked out of the dressing room in my gown only to find him gone.

I waited in the boutique for two hours. All I got was a text: "Something came up at work.

We'll do this another day." The next morning, I found out he had personally driven Serena to an outoftown conference.

Wright's favoritism toward Serena was an open secret at the office. Everyone knew it. Except him. I fell asleep on the couch.

When I woke up, my voice was hoarse, and my eyes were swollen shut. The sound of the front door unlocking broke the silence.

Seeing my disheveled state, a flicker of guilt and worry crossed Wright's eyes. "Joanna, stop crying.

We can start the streak again tomorrow, okay?" He reached behind his back and produced a small box.

It was the thirdtier prize—the silver couple's bracelets you got for keeping a 99day streak. "Didn't you want this? I bought it for you." He still didn't get it.

He thought I was throwing a fit over a piece of cheap metal. He grabbed my wrist, trying to force the bracelet onto me.

I held his hand back, looking him dead in the eye. "Wright, let's break up." His hand froze.

But in the next second, he gripped my wrist tighter and forced the bracelet over my hand. "Break up?

Joanna, is this the only card you know how to play?" "I'm serious." He didn't believe me. He gave me a cold, dismissive look. "You don't get to break up with me.

If anyone is ending this, it'll be me." I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper, forcing back the tears. While Wright was in the shower, his phone lit up on the nightstand.

The contact name read "Serena." I realized then that my contact, which used to be pinned to the top of his messages, had been replaced by her.

I picked up his phone and tried to unlock it. The passcode was no longer our anniversary. I held my breath and typed in Serena's birthday. It unlocked instantly.

Their chat screen opened. The streak flame next to her name read "1000". One thousand days. Almost three years. Their streak had started the very week she joined the company.

I scrolled up. Every silly meme and video she sent, Wright replied to. Meanwhile, my daily texts about grocery lists and apartment maintenance were buried, unread.

The most recent exchange was from fifteen minutes ago.

Serena had sent a video of a handsome actor, asking: "Wright, do you know what my type is?" Wright had replied: "Looking to get into a relationship?" She sent a blushing emoji: "Why don't you ask me who my type is?" "Who is it then?" Serena replied with a voice note.

I tapped it. Her voice was sweet, dripping with affectation: "I only like guys who are exactly like you." Rage boiled in my chest.

I pressed the record button and yelled into his phone: "Serena, do you have any shame whatsoever trying to steal your best friend's fiancé?" Before the message finished sending, the phone was ripped out of my hand.

Wright stood there, fresh out of the shower, water dripping from his hair. His face was livid. "Joanna! Serena is your best friend.

How can you speak to her like that?" "Listen to what she just said to you!" I snatched the phone back and turned the volume to the maximum.

The sugary, intimate voice note echoed through the living room. Wright froze. He lunged forward, grabbed the phone, and quickly powered it off.

A heavy, suffocating silence filled the room. Finally, Wright found his voice. "Serena was just joking around. Don't take it so seriously." "Joking?

Then is changing your passcode to her birthday also a joke?" Wright frowned, stepping forward to grab my shoulders. "Joanna, whether you believe me or not, nothing physical has ever happened between Serena and me.

We are getting married next month. Don't make a scene over nothing." I shook his hands off and slammed the bedroom door shut.

The moment the latch clicked, the tears finally spilled over. The next morning, the company Slack and group chats erupted.

Someone had leaked the video of Wright and Serena at the mall.

The video showed Wright holding Serena's hand, publicly referring to her as his "girlfriend." The chat rooms were in chaos. "Holy crap, is Serena actually a homewrecker?" "How is this even a question?

Mr. Harrison literally called her his girlfriend." "Isn't she Joanna's best friend?

Stealing your best friend's guy... that's incredibly low." When I closed the app, my phone was buzzing with over ninetynine unread messages.

Coworkers and friends asking if I was okay. I ignored them all and drove to the office. The rumor mill moved fast. Someone had uploaded the video to TikTok and Twitter.

Within two hours, "Local community college grad hooks corporate heir" was trending locally. My name was dragged into the comments.

The moment I stepped into the office, I was summoned to the executive suite. The office was in total disarray. The PR team was running around, phones ringing off the hook.

Serena sat on the couch, sobbing hysterically. A thick stack of printed reports was suddenly hurled at my head. I stumbled backward, falling onto the carpet.

From above, Wright’s voice boomed with fury: "Joanna! Look at what you’ve done! Apologize to Serena right now!" In five years, I had never seen him this angry.

Serena pointed a trembling finger at me, weeping. "Joanna, I thought you were my best friend.

How could you do this to me?" I stood up, dusting off my pants, and looked Wright straight in the eye. "I didn't do this." "I didn't leak that video, and I didn't buy any trends." Wright clearly didn't believe a word. "Joanna, who else would want to ruin Serena's reputation besides you?

She's your friend. How could you be so cruel?" "Friend." Looking at her performative tears, a wave of disgust hit me.

Wright signaled his assistant, who handed me a drafted public apology. "Joanna, I don't care if you did it or not. You are signing this retraction.

Serena shouldn't have to carry this kind of dirt on her name." I let out a soft, bitter laugh.

I took the paper and ripped it to shreds right in front of him. "I won't apologize for something I didn't do. And the internet isn't wrong.

Serena is exactly what they say she is." Wright slammed his hand on the desk, kicking his chair back. "Joanna!" I didn't stay to watch him rage.

I turned around and walked out of his office. After that, a cold war settled between us. Wright didn't come home for days.

The trend was quickly suppressed; the videos were scrubbed from the internet, and all forum discussions were deleted.

Discussion of the incident was strictly banned within the company. Two employees were summarily fired by Wright just for whispering about Serena in the breakroom.

The old Wright used to value talent above all else; he would never fire someone over petty gossip. But everything was different now.

At the end of the month, the promotion review came out. I was ranked first in performance, a shooin for the director role.

My colleagues had already booked a restaurant to celebrate. But when the official announcement was posted, everyone gasped. My name wasn't on the list.

The position that belonged to me had been given to Serena. I grabbed the printout and marched to HR.

The HR director sighed, looking pityingly at me. "Joanna, the board approved your promotion. But Mr. Harrison... he personally exercised his veto power." It was Wright.

He had always been fiercely objective about work. I never imagined he would use his corporate power to play favorites. But he broke his own golden rule for Serena.

I pushed open the door to Wright's office and threw the announcement onto his desk. "Why, Wright?" "You always preached about merit and fair competition.

Why did you block my promotion?" To secure this promotion, I had worked myself to the bone, pulling eightyhour weeks. By tenure, by numbers, Serena didn't even come close to me.

Compared to my raw outrage, Wright was chillingly calm. "Joanna, Serena has been through hell because of that online scandal. What's wrong with giving her a break?

There will be other promotions next year.

I promise I'll make sure you get the next one." "I don't want the next one!" My voice cracked, tears stinging my eyes. "I want a fair review.

Put me and Serena sidebyside, and let the work speak for itself!" Wright let out a condescending scoff. "Fair?

Joanna, you're talking to me about fair?" He stood up, towering over me. "If I hadn't personally told HR you were my girlfriend five years ago, you wouldn't have even gotten past the first interview.

Do you honestly think you'd be sitting in this office today without me backing you up all these years?" The words felt like a physical blow.

My chest tightened so hard I could barely breathe. The narrative I had built for myself—that I was smart, capable, and selfmade—shattered into dust.

I don't remember how I stumbled out of his office. When I got back to my desk, my face was wet with tears. Serena was surrounded by a crowd of coworkers.

The same people who had promised to celebrate with me were now showering her with congratulations and gifts. I wiped my face, took a deep breath, and began packing my things.

Serena walked over, a bright smile plastered on her face. "Joanna, we're going out to celebrate tonight. My treat.

You should come!" Looking at her face, I remembered how she had looked when she first started. She had been so timid, so eager to please.

I had spent hours teaching her how to format spreadsheets and pitch clients. When Wright needed an assistant, I was the one who put her name forward.

My reward for that kindness was a knife straight to my back. I didn't say a word. I picked up my box of personal belongings and walked out of the building.

When I got home, I drafted a formal resignation letter and emailed it to HR. Then, I booked a oneway ticket to Charleston.

I packed my life into three suitcases and left the city I had called home for five years. Wright hadn't seen Joanna at the office for two days.

In the past, no matter how furious she was, she never skipped work without notice. But by the third day, her desk remained empty. He called the head of HR into his office.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered, "Get Joanna back to her desk. Unexcused absences are unprofessional." The HR manager trembled. "Mr. Harrison...

Joanna has officially resigned."