Any similarity between this work of fiction and real events or people is entirely coincidental. The portrayal of a particular action or belief does not imply the writer’s endorsement of said action or belief.

I would be lying if I said that Catherine was the person whom I loved most. From a young age, I have believed that friendship is more precious than romance, and I have always lived in accordance with this belief. I have let many women go – no matter how much I loved them – for Gerald.

He has helped me in innumerable ways. I cannot help but sacrifice for him, for he is a true companion.

Gerald and I have never had any real issues in our friendship, save for one time, many years ago, when I briefly dated his sister. Amy quite enchanted me; she was irresistibly gorgeous, and it was difficult to believe that such a vibrant woman would want to go out with someone as analytical as me.

I had created such a grandiose image of her in my head, but after a couple of dates, it became evident that she was not all I had thought. She was a boring girl; nothing she spoke of was of great importance. She paid no attention to politics and took no interest in religion. If she couldn’t even converse on matters as surface-level as these, how could I possibly have any deep conversations with her?

On our third date, I took her to an upscale restaurant, paid her bill, and was as charming as a rational man could be. I must admit how intoxicating it was that her gaze was often lost in my eyes, affixed to my eyes with glue. Again, I am not at all a fascinating person by any standards, yet I enchanted her.

It was unbelievable.

But this date would not have a happy ending for her. It was then that I broke up with Amy, and Gerald did not appreciate my decision. He stopped speaking to me for about two days, but then reached out.

He accused me of breaking his sister’s heart. I accepted his anger, fell to his knees, and begged forgiveness. He granted it; he loved me that much.

It was shortly thereafter that I met the woman who would become my wife, my darling Catherine. How exciting it was to meet a girl who was not that dissimilar to me. We spoke for hours, discussing intricate topics such as the nature of Reality, and the interplay between the individual and society. Her views on even the simplest issues fascinated me.

I decided to marry her just six months after meeting her.

Gerald was my best man, and it was at the wedding that he and Catherine had first met. I didn’t think it was right to introduce them any earlier. Gerald was still grieving his sister’s loss; when I told him that I had started seeing someone new, his eyes drooped downwards as wrinkles appeared on his forehead.

He could not accept that I had left Amy, let alone commenced a new relationship.

“Catherine, I have heard a lot about you. You must be an incredible woman that Andrew should want to marry you just half a year after he broke up with Amy.”

Given that Catherine had no idea who Amy was, I was rather frustrated at Gerald for having brought her up.

As Catherine turned to me, a look of confusion – however obscured – appeared briefly: a dismissive wave of the hand followed a slight twitching of her eyebrows.

“Amy? Who is this Amy? You have never told me about her, Andrew,” she said with a seemingly benign laugh. “Do you have a secret girlfriend?” she teased.

Laughing, but my hands ever so gently shaking, I said, “Amy is Gerald’s sister. I went out with her – a long time ago – and it was only a very brief relationship. We lasted about two weeks; I broke up with her on the third date. I then met you, my love, and I knew that I would be with you forever.”

“So, as soon as you met me, you broke up with her?”

I had met Catherine after breaking up with Amy, but I answered yes. I should want Catherine to think that I love her that much, should I not?

“Interesting,” said Catherine, still smiling at me gently. I gazed back affectionately as she began to walk away to speak to the guests.

I turned to Gerald. In a quiet but firm whisper, I leaned into his ear to say, “Why would you bring that up?”

“No reason, really. I just think that your wife should know everything about you.”

“Are you trying to get back at me for breaking up with your sister? We were fundamentally incompatible; you should be happy that I set her free.”

Gerald scoffed. “Set her free? Amy has barely left the house since you left her. She is miserable. She loved you so very much, Andrew, and now she is paying the price. Meanwhile, you’re here getting married. And I am your best man; what a terrible brother I am.”

I placed my hand on Gerald’s shoulder. “You are not a terrible brother, my friend. Nor was Amy a terrible woman. Nor am I a terrible man. Love is a fickle thing. It is primordial, yet it is intricate. Love is a web that catches us all, and once we are caught, we can never escape. It is a dreadful thing, no matter how sweet, and it is love that has destroyed your sister, not me. I hope one day, you can forgive me.”

“I have forgiven you, Andrew. But I need someone to project my anger onto. I am sorry that you have become the scapegoat. I simply cannot bear my sister’s suffering. She is in constant pain – she cries upon hearing your name. She needs closure.”

I took a deep sigh. “If closure is what she wants, I suppose that I can give it to her.”

“Thank you so much, Andrew. Come by my apartment next week; she’ll be there.”

***

She sat there before me, the dishevelled woman. She seemed nothing like she was when I met her. How vibrant and full of energy she was back then. Now, she looked as if she had been spending every day giving birth, with not a single break in between.

Such was the extent of her misery.

I couldn’t help but feel guilty. She was in this state because of me. Or was it because of love? I no longer knew.

“Amy,” I said in a gentle whisper, “why do you suffer so much?”

As tears began cascading down her unkempt clothes, she said, “You broke me, Andrew. You were my only hope. You were the guardian of my dreams, the protector of my soul. And you took it all away. And I hear that you are married. Who is Catherine? What does she have that I don’t?”

I couldn’t bear to see Amy’s pain. Her tears were an infinite river of sorrow that drained out into a bleak and desolate sea of stagnation. Her dry lips, her tired eyes. She had completely neglected herself following my breaking up with her.

I held Amy close as she wept. She took a deep and shaky breath, and gradually her tears became less like a thunderstorm and more like a drizzle. She wiped the excess fluid from her eyes as she gazed into mine, just as she did six months ago when she first expressed her desire for me.

And just as I felt a sense of pride that Amy should desire me back then, so too I did now. I broke eye contact with her, for her approval was far too validating. I closed my eyes and kept thinking of Catherine. I needed to keep thinking of Catherine; she was my love.

“Why do you close your eyes, Andrew?” she said. “Are you dreaming of your love? Do you feel guilty that you’re here with me, hugging me tightly, consoling me? What would Catherine think, Andrew?”

“She would think I was helping a friend.”

After all, I was doing this all for Gerald. He was also in that room, and he, too, gave me a hug upon hearing my remark.

“Andrew, thank you so much,” he said. “This is why I love you. I promise you that your wife will never know of the fact that you hugged Amy.”

I smiled.

“Andrew, I need to go out to buy some groceries; you’re having dinner with us tonight. You stay here with Amy.”

Before I could protest, he had already left the apartment.

It was a strange and unsettling feeling. Being alone with my ex-girlfriend as a married man. Was it wrong? It felt wrong.

But I was doing this all for Gerald. I was simply helping a friend.

As I turned to look at her, Amy smiled at me for just a moment. It was the first time that day I saw her expressing any emotion besides unadulterated misery.

“So, you can still smile.”

“I cannot do anything but smile when I am with you, Andrew.”

She was doing it again. Why did her words of approval laced with forbidden desire feel so good? I closed my eyes.

Catherine is my love, Catherine is my love, Catherine is my love…

And before I knew it, Amy was hugging me again. Her hugs were intoxicating.

I felt as if I was standing at the bottom of a majestic waterfall, enveloped in refreshing sweetness that would continue to pour from Heaven for the rest of eternity.

I felt like I was eating dark chocolate while dreaming of rainbows as I flew through the sky at a speed faster than sound, burned by the Sun’s core yet escaping unharmed.

It was a feeling of unbridled ecstasy, and it felt good.

It was difficult to think of Catherine. As Amy hugged me, I felt as if I were being absorbed into her soul. I couldn’t help it. Amy had transported me into her world, and I could think of nothing but her.

And all this thanks to nothing but a brief hug. What a terrible husband I was.

As she began to withdraw from our embrace, I gained a heightened sense of awareness as to Amy’s state of mind. Her deep breaths of sadness, the look of longing in her eyes. It was all piercing through my soul. A strange feeling of fullness engulfed me; I felt as though I had so much to give.

She was no longer hugging me but was resting her head on my shoulder. She looked up into my eyes, and I couldn’t help but look back into hers. Her lips, however dry, were beginning to look like springtime blossoms. Her tears were like dewdrops that emerged from the fog to land on the crisp, cold grass.

I wanted to kiss her; I was going to kiss her. But then I remembered Catherine. I don’t know why or how, but I remembered.

I had forgotten that I was married; I forgot about the existence of a woman in my life named Catherine. But just as I was about to kiss Amy, I remembered.

I stood up and distanced myself from her. Gerald returned to the apartment.

He prepared dinner for us. He made steak with roast vegetables and mushroom gravy. It was delicious. We also drank much wine. It was late when I got home; my wife was fast asleep.

This routine became a staple of my life. Every Friday night, I would go to Gerald’s apartment. Amy would try to seduce me; I would almost yield. He would cook us delicious dinner, we’d drink lots of wine, and I’d arrive back home well after my wife had fallen asleep.

Catherine was aware of all of this. I told her every detail of my nights with Gerald, including how flirtatious Amy was with me. I even asked Catherine to join me a few times, but she could not, for she was working late.

How I loved my Friday nights. Gerald was so important to me. But did I truly enjoy his company? Or was his presence merely a means by which I could spend time with Amy without feeling guilty? Was Amy the real reason why I maintained my friendship with Gerald?

Catherine worked night shifts on most days. Until a few weeks ago, she worked only three days per week, but recently, she started working on Wednesdays too. She must have been so drained of energy working at night that her circadian rhythms would have suffered. I could never do it.

I respected my wife very much. She was a woman with a great work ethic and great integrity. How intelligent she was; how passionate she was. No wonder I had fallen in love with her. She was my darling, my dearest darling.

She respected how important Gerald was to me. She never complained when I would go to his apartment on Friday nights.

There were times when I wondered what it would be like to have Gerald over at our place sometime for a change. When I posed the idea to Catherine, she said that she was too tired to host. I could understand. Working four nights per week would take its toll, I was sure.

One Friday night, just as dinner was served, the power went out in Gerald’s apartment. In the darkness, I felt Amy’s hand in mine. I did not resist, for I was afraid of the dark, and I enjoyed the comfort that her warmth provided. I just needed to remind myself that Catherine was my love.

But that curious thing happened yet again. I lost all memory of my wife. All I could think of was Amy. She became my world.

I began to search for her lips frantically. I wanted nothing more than to kiss her. I was unmarried, and Amy was my darling. I needed Amy. But just before my lips met hers, Gerald had lit some candles.

Thankfully, he didn’t notice how close I was to Amy’s face. In truth, I was always that close to Amy. Our chairs would always be touching. But this – the mere placement of chairs – carried no deeper meaning.

Catherine is my love. Catherine is my love. Catherine is my love.

What was it about Amy that was so powerful that she could make me lose all memory of my Catherine? And why was it that despite this, I continued to spend time with her?

For Gerald. Gerald was my closest friend. I would do anything for him. That was why.

As we began to eat our meal – what an excellent cook Gerald was – he began to speak of how he needed some financial assistance. He had recently accrued $5,000 of credit card debt, and he had no means of paying it back.

“Gerald, of course, I can help you out. I’d do anything for you, my friend.”

I made a transfer of $10,000 from my account into his. The extra five thousand was my way of telling him that I loved him.

Gerald paid off his debt, and with the leftover money, he bought Amy a second-hand car. How happy Amy was.

***

“Why did you give ten thousand to Gerald?” said Catherine as she read through our joint bank statement.

“He was unable to repay his debt; I had to help him out.”

“I suppose that he accrued that debt by buying Amy a car?”

“How did you know that he bought Amy a car?”

“I saw him at the shops a few days ago. He purchased the car using money you gave him, is what he tells me. You’re still in love with Amy, aren’t you?”

“No, my darling. That money was for Gerald.”

“And yet Amy has the car.”

“Because I gave him more money than he needed. To show him I love him.”

“To show him you love his sister?”

“Catherine, darling, that is not true.”

“Yes, it’s not true. Of course, it’s true! Every Friday night, you go to Gerald’s apartment. Amy tries to seduce you. Do you think I don’t see the smile on your face whenever you describe the things Amy says to you? I believe all that you have told me but one thing. You say that you’ve resisted all temptation. But you do not act like a man who is faithful to his wife.”

“I have not betrayed you, my dearest. I go to Gerald’s apartment to see Gerald. Amy just happens to be there. I am not at all attracted to her.”

“To believe you any longer would be to make a fool of myself. You made friends with Gerald with the twisted intention of getting close to Amy. You want Amy to love you. You use Gerald as an excuse for spending time with Amy. You love the things she says to you. You feel exhilarated when she praises you. You even gave $10,000 of our money to Gerald so that Amy could purchase a car. I have had enough of your manipulation; I am filing for divorce. You go and have fun with your Amy.”

***

What can I say? Catherine divorced me. I am all alone now.

Amy’s all alone.

Now that I have lost the woman whom I loved so dearly, perhaps I should follow Catherine’s advice. Perhaps I should go and have fun with my Amy. After all, she never stopped loving me, not even when I was with Catherine.

Her love was true love. Catherine’s was not love at all.

It was a Wednesday evening. I had nothing better to do. I knew that Gerald was not at his apartment, for he worked late on Wednesdays.

I knocked on the door. Amy opened it as she smiled at me.

I didn’t need to remember Catherine anymore. She meant nothing to me. She was gone.

I stroked Amy’s hair and pressed my lips against hers. As she swept me away into a land of bliss, far away from memories of Catherine, I heard one of the doors in the apartment open.

From the room emerged Gerald, and his arm was linked with Catherine’s.

Gerald approached me, looked me in the eye, and said, “I have wanted Catherine ever since I first met her at your wedding. Thank you so much for divorcing her. You must have found out the truth behind her working late on Wednesday nights?

“I knew you were telling the truth when you said that you’d do anything for me. You really love me, don’t you? Best friends forever, Andrew!”

In exchange for blind trust and undying loyalty, I received betrayal from the two people whom I loved most. But upon discovering this truth, I felt no resentment towards my closest friend.

After all, I’d do anything for Gerald.