“I don’t know why, I guess I just couldn’t help myself,” she stutters, the words tumbling over each other.

“You couldn’t help yourself to my boyfriend?!” I exclaim in disbelief. “You are - were - my best friend. I can’t believe this.” Emily - who had been my best friend since the third grade - was a cheat, a traitor, a liar. A fake. Ohhhh how those insults were wanting to roll off of my tongue, oh how I wanted to see her in pain. But I held back.

“I’m so sorry…” her voice falters and suddenly her shoes seem so interesting. Her ginger hair tumbles over her face, desperately trying to hide the tears. But I know her too well, at least I thought I did.

“I can’t believe you Emily. I just can’t,” I say, raising a shaky finger towards the door. I want to say that I’m sorry but I would be lying. “Leave.”

She looks up, her lip trembling. “May…” I almost feel a bit of mercy, a bit of remorse for my lifelong friend. I shake my head and refuse to let my voice quiver.

“Get. Out,” I repeat, more sternly this time. Tears threaten to release themselves as Emily hesitates, and then walks out the door, flaming hair trailing behind her.

I sink into the armchair and sob. Sob like there’s no tomorrow. Sob like Emily didn’t do what she did, like Matt didn’t leave me for her. I almost don’t notice Emily coming back in, I almost don’t notice her snatch a shiny Diamond ring off the coffee table next to me, but I could see out of my peripheral vision her initials carved into the band…