The Mountain Remembers Me, But You Have Forgotten

1 The dealer eyed me skeptically. Ma’am, this car’s pristine, priced well below market. Why the rush? I rested my fingers on the doorframe, voice flat.

Because of a preset seat memory. Yesterday, burning with fever, I sank into the passenger seat, aching to recline. But Max’s hand clamped my wrist. Don’t touch that.

That slot’s for Sienna. Mess it up and her back flares for days. He reset the memory, watched the seat glide back, then softened his tone. Sienna’s back is bad.

She’s your best friend, Stephanie. Show some empathy. Staring at his profile, I felt a wave of absurdity.

Six years together, six years riding shotgun, and he’d never saved a setting for me. Yet he’d programmed one for my best friend. I said nothing, climbed into the back.

In the mirror, he mistook my silence for a tantrum, sighed, offered no apology. Leaning against the cold glass, my phone lit up. Notification: Engagement venue reservation canceled.

This ride with Max was over. … The car pulled up to our building. The rain was still pouring. Max held the umbrella as he escorted me to the lobby.

I leaned against the tiled wall, trying to catch my breath, when he suddenly stopped. "Go on up.

I need to go back to the car for a second." I turned around and watched him run straight back into the downpour.

He opened the passenger door, pressed the memory button twice, and even shook the backrest to test the angle.

He bent down to measure the legroom with his hands, ensuring it was absolutely flawless before shutting the door. Half his shoulder was soaked, but he didn't seem to notice.

Standing in the chilly draft of the lobby, my heart went cold. It wasn't that he lacked a sense of detail. He just never used it on me. Upstairs, I collapsed onto the couch.

My phone buzzed. Autodraft successful: $580. It came directly from my checking account. I had paid seventy percent of the down payment on that car; he had only chipped in thirty.

The loan was entirely in my name, tied to my credit. In the beginning, he promised to transfer his share every month.

He even attached a sweet note to his first transfer: For our little roadtripper. Then, the payments dwindled to nothing.

Occasionally he would send me fifty bucks when he remembered, but most of the time he just conveniently forgot. I never pressed him.

I figured we were getting married anyway, so keeping score felt cheap. What a joke.

I was the one keeping up the payments, while my best friend claimed the passenger seat as her exclusive throne. I opened the car's connected app on my phone.

The number one frequent destination was Sienna's yoga studio. Second was her apartment. My office was a distant third.

Looking at the trip logs from the past three months, almost every route involved a massive detour just to pick her up.

Suddenly, his constant refrain over the last six months made sense: "It's on the way." On the way to drop Sienna off at class. On the way to take her home.

On the way to drive her to physical therapy. Yet, when I worked late into the night and called him for a ride, his response was always the same: "Just grab an Uber, babe.

I'll pay you back for it." Apparently, convenience was selective.

For some people, a detour across the entire city was "on the way." For others, a twomile drive was too much gas to waste.

Max walked into the living room carrying a glass of warm water and some pills. He pressed his palm to my forehead. "You're still burning up.

Take these and go to sleep." I took the glass without a word. He sighed, sitting down beside me. "Are you seriously still mad about the seat? Sienna's back is just starting to heal.

She can't handle a bumpy ride.

You need to be more understanding." I stared at the swirling water in my cup. "You're overthinking it." He blinked, clearly caught off guard by my flat tone.

He reached out to wrap his arms around me, but I quietly pulled away. "Tell you what.

Once you're feeling better, I'll take you diving in the Bahamas, okay?" In the past, I would have taken the peace offering and let it go. Tonight, the promise just tasted bitter.

Right then, his phone buzzed. "Sienna" lit up the screen. He shot a quick, guilty glance at me.

After a moment of hesitation, he stepped out onto the balcony, sliding the glass door shut behind him. But he didn't close it all the way.

His voice drifted through the gap, clear as day. "Don't worry, I reset the seat. It’s at the exact same angle as last time." "I'll pick you up for therapy tomorrow morning sharp.

I won't let your back flare up again." My grip tightened around the glass. I opened a usedcar appraisal app, entered my license plate, and checked the estimated value.

Then I looked up the remaining balance on the loan. If I paid it off early using the refund from our canceled honeymoon, it would cover it perfectly.

I had spent six months planning that trip. It was supposed to be our honeymoon. But yesterday, he had casually brushed it aside. "Sienna can't miss her therapy sessions.

We can do the trip later." I hadn't argued. I just went online and canceled every flight and hotel booking.

When Max came back inside, he tucked the throw blanket around my shoulders and told me to rest. I closed my eyes and muttered an agreement.

The moment the bathroom door closed and the shower started running, I opened my eyes. I took a screenshot of the car's tradein value.

Since the passenger seat was no longer mine, keeping the car was pointless. Just like keeping him. The next morning, I walked to the entryway to pick up a package.

There, sitting prominently on the shoe rack, was a pair of plush bunny slippers. My own sneakers had been shoved into the dark, dusty corner. Max emerged from the kitchen.

Seeing me stare at the shoe rack, he offered a sheepish explanation. "Sienna stopped by yesterday morning to wait for me before work. Her back hurts if she stands too long.

Since she's your best friend, I figured I'd keep a pair here for her. Don't overthink it." I nodded.

I didn't ask when they had become close enough for her to lounge around our place before work. I didn't ask why an outsider's belongings were taking up my space.

I turned to grab a drink from the fridge. Hanging on the inside door was a sticky note in his handwriting: Sienna can't have cold drinks. Keep them room temp.

My stash of cold brew had been relegated to the bottom drawer. In their place stood two rows of sweet peach teas, Sienna’s favorite.

Max walked over and offered me a bottle. "Her stomach's been acting up, so I grabbed these. You like sweet drinks too, right?" I let out a dry laugh and shut the fridge door.

He had forgotten. I hated sweet drinks. Sienna was the one with the sweet tooth. Sensing my coldness, he tried to patch things up. "Come on, babe.

Don't be petty with someone who's sick." Before he could finish, his phone buzzed with a voice note from Sienna. He tapped it, and it blasted over speakerphone. "Max!

The mountain trail passes are buyonegetone free today!

Want to go hiking with me this weekend?" Max's thumbs flew across his screen. "I'm taking Sienna to Stone Mountain this weekend," he announced casually. "You'll have to grab dinner on your own." I looked up at him. "What about me?" He glanced at me as if I'd asked a stupid question. "If you want to come, just buy a ticket.

Sienna's sweet. She won't mind sharing the trip." My fingers tightened around my bottle. I didn't say another word. For years, this had been our dynamic. Twoforone boba deals?

They split them. Department store coupons? They pooled their purchases to hit the threshold. Even a weekend getaway? His first thought was to secure a discount package with her.

I was always the third wheel who had to pay full price alone. I used to make excuses for him. Her back is bad, she needs the company. But in that moment, the illusion shattered.

There was no innocent helping hand. They had simply drawn a circle around themselves and left me on the outside. To fully force myself to let go, I went with them.

Sienna skipped over to the car, pulling the passenger door open. The moment she saw me sitting inside, her smile froze. "Stephanie! I didn't know you were coming!

If I'd known, I would've asked Max to grab another pass." Max turned around from the driver's seat. "Stephanie, hop in the back.

Sienna's back is sensitive, and she's used to the front. Just accommodate her this once." I looked at him, my eyes stinging.

He remembered her back pain, but he entirely forgot that I got severely carsick. Sienna played the martyr, gently tugging at his sleeve. "Oh, don't say that. I can sit in the back.

It's just that my spine acts up on long drives, and I'd hate to be a burden and make you drive me to physical therapy again." At those words, Max threw open his door, marched to my side, and grabbed my wrist.

His grip was rough as he pulled me out of the seat. I stumbled, and before I could steady myself, he shoved me into the back.

He leaned in, his voice cold as ice. "Sienna's condition is fragile. Be reasonable." The door slammed shut.

Rubbing my bruised wrist, a wave of nausea hit me. "Max, pull over." My voice trembled, thick with bile.

He caught my eye in the mirror and sneered. "It's just the back seat, Stephanie. Do you have to make a scene out of everything?

Can't you just grow up?" Sienna immediately turned around, her face a mask of deep regret. "This is all my fault. Stephanie, if you're really that uncomfortable, let's swap.

My back will be fine. I'll just do an extra therapy session next week.

I don't want to cause trouble between you two." She reached for her seatbelt, but Max quickly pressed her shoulder down. "Don't move. You just started feeling better.

What if you slip a disc again?" He glared back at me, his teeth clenched. "Stephanie, stop pushing her. You know what she's going through.

Can't you just tolerate it for once?" "I can't tolerate it!

I'm carsick!" My vision was blurring, and a sour taste flooded my mouth. "Carsick?" he scoffed, completely dismissive. "Since when do you get carsick?

You're just trying to ruin the trip." By the time we finally reached the mountain park entrance, I threw the door open and scrambled out.

Clutching the trunk of a pine tree, I threw up. Max leaned against the hood, his brow furrowed in irritation. "Unbelievable.

We try to have a nice day out, and you turn it into a disaster." Sienna's eyes welled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Stephanie.

If I hadn't suggested the passes, you wouldn't have to suffer like this." She winced, pressing a hand to her lower back as if struggling to stand.

Max immediately wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to support her.

He looked over at me, his expression softening slightly when he saw the tears of physical exhaustion on my face. "Alright, now that you're done, let's go." He guided Sienna toward the trail entrance.

The stone path was uneven and rocky. The two of them walked briskly ahead. Max kept his arm around her, never once looking back.

I forced myself to keep up, but my foot caught on a jagged root. A sharp, whitehot pain shot up my leg. I gasped, collapsing onto the dirt. "Max!" I cried out.

Max stopped, starting to turn around. But Sienna suddenly shrieked and threw herself into his arms. "Ah! A bug!

Max, get it off me!" Max caught her tightly, his voice frantic. "Where? Did it bite you?" He glanced at the ground, spotting a harmless black ant. "It's just a little ant, Sienna.

You're terrified of that?" Yet, he bent down and scooped her up in a bridal carry. Sienna gasped, playfully swatting his shoulder. "Stop laughing! It scared me!

What if it was poisonous?" "Alright, alright, my bad." He carried her forward, laughing and chatting, completely forgetting I existed.

I sat in the dirt, the pain in my ankle throbbing. I remembered a time when a tiny scrape on my knee would throw him into a panic. Now, nothing I did could catch his eye.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and a sudden downpour slammed into the forest. I dragged myself up, limping heavily through the storm.

By the time I reached the cable car station, I was soaked to the bone. "Last ride! Only one cabin left, and it only fits two people!" the operator shouted over the wind.

My heart sank. I grabbed Max's wet sleeve, my voice hoarse. "Max, please. I can't walk.

Help me up." Sienna shrank into his chest. "Max, the thunder is so loud... and my back is killing me.

If we have to hike down in this storm, I think my spine will give out." She looked at me, her eyes red. "Stephanie, I'm so sorry. I'm so useless. You and Max should go first.

I'll manage." Max looked conflicted, then turned to me. "Stephanie, wait here for half an hour. Let me get Sienna down safely, and I'll come right back up for you.

She has a chronic injury. If she gets cold in this rain, it'll ruin her health." I stared at him, and a cold, empty laugh escaped my lips. "I sprained my ankle, Max. Are you blind?

Why should I give up my spot to her and freeze in the rain?" "Why can't you ever be the bigger person?" His face darkened. He tossed his jacket to me. "Wear this.

I'll be back before you know it." As the cabin door locked with a heavy metallic click, it felt like a blunt knife twisting in my chest.

The torrential rain quickly soaked through his discarded jacket. Standing on the deserted platform, I watched the cable car vanish into the gray fog.

I had no choice but to drag my injured foot down the mountain trail, step by agonizing step. Rainwater and cold sweat blinded my eyes.

By the time I finally reached the bottom of the trail, my strength gave out entirely, and I collapsed onto the wet gravel.

The next morning, Max finally noticed the silence in our chat history. Just as he grabbed his keys, his mother called. "Max!

The venue just called to say the engagement party is canceled! What on earth is going on?" Before he could process her words, Sienna let out a sharp gasp from beside him. "Max!

Look outside! The car is being towed!" He rushed downstairs to stop them, but the tow truck driver shrugged him off, shoving a clipboard in his face. "The vehicle was sold by Ms.

Stephanie. All paperwork is signed and legal. Didn't she tell you?"