My best friend demanded I share my husband with her because she had feelings for him before I even knew he existed. "I'm in love with Leo and I want to share him," my best friend Elena said during dinner with me and my husband Leo. Leo and I looked at her like she was crazy. "What are you talking about?" I asked.



"Share him with me. I get him sometimes; you get him sometimes." She said it like she was talking about splitting a subscription. Leo put his glass down slowly and said, "Elena, that's not happening."

"Why not?" She looked genuinely confused.

"I met you first. I've loved you longer. If anything, she should be sharing with me." I felt something cold run through my chest. She actually believed what she was saying.

"You've never even dated him," I said. "Because I was being nice." Her voice went up. "I was being a good friend, and this is the thanks I get." She turned to Leo.

"Tell her. Tell her you've thought about me."

"I haven't," Leo said.

"You have. You're just too scared to admit it." She reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. Leo yanked it back. "Don't touch me."

"See?" She pointed at him. "That reaction—that's not nothing. That's passion." "That's him being uncomfortable," I said. "You don't get to tell me what he feels." She was standing now towering over us.

I have been waiting for five years. Five years of watching you have everything I deserve. And I'm still being generous. I'm still letting you keep him part-time.

She hit the table hard. Most women wouldn't do that, Veronica. Most women would have just taken him, but I'm including you because you're my best friend, and I want us all to be happy. Just open your mind.

I stood up. "No. This is insane, and you need to leave right now, or our friendship is over." She stared at me for a long moment. Her jaw locked and the anger drained out of her face until there was nothing left but cold.

"You're going to regret making me the enemy." She grabbed her purse and walked out without another word. The door clicked shut behind her. Two days later, Elena showed up at our door with grocery bags. I saw her through the peephole and my whole body tensed.

Leo came up behind me and whispered, "Is that her?" I nodded. We stood there for a moment, neither of us moving. She knocked again, "Veronica, I know you're home. Your car's in the driveway.

I just want to talk." Leo shook his head at me. I agreed. We weren't opening that door. "I brought groceries," Elena called out.

"All your favorites—the good yogurt, that fancy olive oil you like. I just want to apologize for how the other night went. I came on too strong." I looked at Leo.

His jaw was tight. "Don't," he said quietly.

"I'm not," I whispered back. We stayed completely still. Elena knocked again harder this time. Veronica, come on.

Don't be like this. I'm trying to make things right. Just let me in so we can talk like adults. I didn't move.

I didn't breathe. After what felt like forever, I heard her sigh through the door. Fine. I'll just leave these here.

The yogurt needs to go in the fridge soon or it'll go bad. I really hope you'll think about what I said. I love you both. I just want us all to be happy.

I heard the rustle of bags being set down, then footsteps walking away. I waited until I heard her car start and pull out of the driveway before I finally exhaled. Leo pulled back the curtain slightly and watched her go. "She's gone," he said.

I opened the door and looked down at the grocery bags. She'd bought everything: my favorite yogurt, Leo's protein bars, and the expensive olive oil we only bought for special occasions. There was a little note tucked into one of the bags. I pulled it out and read it.

"I'm not giving up on us. Love, E." I showed it to Leo, his face tightened. "We should throw all of this away," he said.

"We should," I agreed. But we're not going to. He looked at me confused. "What do you mean?" I picked up the bags and brought them inside.

"Next time she shows up, we need proof. We need to record everything she says. If she's going to keep pushing, we need documentation." Leo nodded slowly.

Then he stopped. His face changed. "Veronica, I need to show you something." He pulled out his phone and started scrolling. I should have told you sooner.

I didn't want to worry you and I thought if I just ignored her she'd stop. He handed me his phone. It was a text thread. Hundreds of messages all from Elena.

All unanswered. The earliest ones were from eight months ago. "Hey, just thinking about you. I had a dream about you last night."

Do you ever wonder what it would be like if things were different? They got more intense as I scrolled. I know you feel it, too. You can't hide from me forever.

Why won't you answer me? I see you reading these. I love you so much it hurts. Please just talk to me.

The most recent ones were from three days before the dinner. "I'm going to tell her soon. We can finally be together. Just wait for me."

I looked up at Leo. My hands were shaking. "How long has this been going on?" "Eight months," he said. His voice was heavy with guilt.

I blocked her twice. She made new numbers. I thought about telling you, but I didn't know how. She's your best friend.

I kept hoping she'd just stop. She's been texting you for eight months and you never said anything. I never responded. Not once.

I swear to you, Veronica. I never encouraged this. I believed him. I could see in his face how much this had been weighing on him.

But it also meant this was so much bigger than I thought. This wasn't a sudden confession at dinner. This had been building for almost a year, maybe longer. "We need to document everything," I said.

"Screenshot all of these. We might need them." Leo nodded and started taking screenshots. While he did that, I walked through the house. Something was nagging at me.

I went into our bedroom and looked around. Everything seemed normal. Then I opened my closet. My clothes were organized by color.

I don't organize by color. I organized by type. Shirts together, pants together, dresses together. Someone had been in here and reorganized my entire closet.

I called Leo in. "Did you do this?" He looked at the closet and shook his head. I haven't touched your stuff. I felt sick.

I walked through the rest of the house really looking this time. The books on the shelf were in a different order. The photos on the fridge had been rearranged. In the bathroom, my shampoo and Leo's shampoo had been switched.

Little things, things you wouldn't notice unless you were looking. Things that said someone had been here, touching our stuff, moving through our space like they belonged there. "She's been in our house before," I said. Not just today.

She's been coming in while we're at work. Leo's face went white. "How long?"

"I don't know, but she has a key." She could have been doing this for months. We checked everything. The drawers in the bedroom, the cabinets in the kitchen, the desk in Leo's office. That's where we found it.

A photo of me and Leo from our wedding day, tucked into one of Leo's folders. Elena had drawn herself into the picture, a crude sketch of her face next to ours with a heart around all three of us. On the back, she'd written soon. Leo sat down heavily on his desk chair.

"This is insane," he said. She drew herself into our wedding photo. "She thinks she belongs there." I said, "She's been thinking that for a long time." I took a picture of the drawing with my phone. Evidence. We were going to need all of it.

Three days later, I came home early from work. I'd had a headache all day, and my boss told me to just go home and rest. I pulled into the driveway and noticed the front door wasn't fully closed. I knew I'd locked it that morning.

I always lock it. I sat in my car for a moment, heart pounding. Maybe Leo came home early, too. Maybe he just forgot to close it all the way.

I texted him. "Are you home?" The response came back immediately. "No, still at work. Why?" My hands were shaking as I typed back.

"Front door is open."

"Don't go in. Call the police." But I didn't call the police. I don't know why. Maybe because part of me already knew who was inside.

I got out of my car and walked up to the front door. I pushed it open slowly. The smell hit me first. Garlic, rosemary, something roasting.

I walked through the living room and into the kitchen. And there she was. Elena standing at my stove in an apron I'd never seen before, stirring something in a pot. She looked up when I walked in and smiled like this was completely normal.

"Veronica, you're home early. Good. Dinner's almost ready." I stood there frozen. I couldn't process what I was seeing.

My best friend had broken into my house and was cooking dinner. "How did you get in?" I asked. My voice came out steadier than I expected. Elena reached into her pocket and held up a key.

"I made a copy." "Remember when you gave me your spare last year when you went on vacation? I made one before I gave it back. I knew you'd want me to have one eventually." She said it so casually, like this was a reasonable thing to do. I felt sick.

I needed to stay calm. I needed to get evidence. I walked over to the counter where my purse was sitting and casually pulled out my phone. I propped it up against the fruit bowl, tilting it so it looked like I was just setting it down and hit record.

Elena didn't even notice. She was too busy tasting whatever she was making. "Elena, why are you here?" I asked. I needed her talking.

I needed her to explain herself on camera. She set down the spoon and turned to face me fully because I wanted to show you what it could be like. I remembered Leo mentioned at that barbecue two years ago that he missed home-cooked meals. You've been so busy with work lately.

I figured I could help. She remembered something my husband said at a barbecue two years ago. She remembered and she'd been holding on to it this whole time. I've seen you rearranging things in our house.

I said, "How many times have you been in here, Elena?" She didn't even look embarrassed. "A few times. I just wanted to help." You never fold Leo's shirts right. And your spice cabinet was a mess.

I organized it for you. "That's not helping," I said. "That's breaking and entering." It's not breaking and entering when you have a key. She laughed like I was being silly.

I just want to take care of you both. That's what family does. "I didn't ask for your help," I said. I know you didn't, Elena replied.

She walked toward me and I forced myself not to step back. But that's what love is, Veronica. anticipating what people need before they even know they need it. I've loved Leo since the day I met him. I've never felt this way about anyone else.

And I would do anything for him. Anything. I just need the chance to prove it. She was close enough now that I could see the shine in her eyes.

She believed every word she was saying. "I'm not trying to take him from you," she continued. "I just want to love him the way he deserves to be loved, the way you're too busy to love him." That one landed like a punch. I love my husband just fine," I said through my teeth.

"Then why isn't he happy?" Elena asked. She tilted her head like she was genuinely curious. "I see the way he looks sometimes. Tired, worn down.

He needs someone to take care of him. Let me take care of him, Veronica. Let me take care of both of you." The front door opened and Leo walked in. He must have left work the second I texted him.

He stopped in the kitchen doorway and stared at Elena standing at our stove. His face went through about five different emotions in 2 seconds. Confusion, recognition, disbelief, anger, fear. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.

His voice was controlled, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. Elena's whole body changed when she saw him. She stood up straighter. Her face softened.

She looked at him like he was the sun and she'd been living in darkness. "Leo, I'm making your favorite." I remembered you said you missed home-cooked meals. I wanted to surprise you both. She gestured at the stove like she was showing off a gift.

You also remembered the barbecue, I said two years ago. You remembered exactly what he said. Of course I did, Elena said. I remember everything about him.

I caught Leo's eye and glanced at my phone propped against the fruit bowl. He understood immediately. He needed to keep her talking. "Elena," Leo said slowly.

"How did you get into our house?" "I have a key. I made a copy." She held it up again proudly. And you've been coming in when we're not home, I added, rearranging things, going through our stuff. "I was helping," Elena insisted.

I was making things nice for Leo. "That's not helping, Elena," Leo said. That's stalking. That's breaking and entering.

That's illegal. Don't be dramatic. She waved her hand dismissively. I have a key.

It's not illegal when you have a key. Leo pulled out his phone. "I'm calling the police." Elena moved faster than I'd ever seen her move. She crossed the kitchen and slapped herself across the face hard.

The sound made me jump. Her cheek went red immediately. Then she did it again and again. She stumbled backward and screamed, "Leo, stop.

Please stop hitting me." I lunged forward and tried to grab her arms. She twisted away from me and clawed at her own neck, leaving red marks. "Please, Leo, I won't tell anyone. Just stop." She threw herself against the counter and wailed, "Not my face, please.

Not my face." Leo was frozen, his hands up, not touching her at all. I finally got hold of her wrists and yelled, "Elena, stop it. Stop." I fumbled for my phone and stopped the recording. The second I did, Elena went still.

The tears stopped like someone had turned off a faucet. She looked at my phone in my hand and smiled. "You didn't think I saw that?" Her voice was completely calm now. Completely cold.

You were recording, waiting for evidence, but all you got is audio of me begging your husband to stop beating me while you tried to pull him off. She straightened her clothes, wiped her face. She walked over to Leo, and her voice went soft again, almost tender. "I'm doing this for us, Leo.

Everything I do is for us. One day, you'll see that." She touched his face. He flinched, but didn't move. She kissed us both on the cheek and walked out the front door like nothing had happened.

Leo and I stood in our kitchen in complete silence. The pot on the stove was still bubbling. The whole house smelled like the dinner she'd made. My hands wouldn't stop shaking.

"What just happened?" Leo asked. His voice was barely a whisper. I looked down at my phone. I played back the recording.

Elena was right. Without the visual of her hitting herself, it sounded exactly like what she described. Leo threatening, Elena screaming, me trying to pull him off. The recording was useless.

No, it was worse than useless. It was ammunition for her. "We have to delete this," I said. If anyone ever hears it without context, Leo nodded.

"Delete it now." I did. We changed the locks that night. We thought that would be the end of it. That night, I couldn't sleep.

I lay in bed next to Leo, staring at the ceiling, replaying every conversation I'd ever had with Elena, looking for signs I'd missed, looking for some clue that this was coming. And then I remembered something. Elena had never let us meet her mom. Not once in 1five years of friendship.

I'd asked a few times over the years, "Hey, we should all do dinner sometime. Your mom could come." Elena always shut it down. She'd get this look on her face and say her mom was complicated or that it wasn't a good idea. At the time, I figured they had a difficult relationship.

Lots of people do. I didn't push it, but now I wondered why. What was she hiding? I got out of bed quietly and grabbed my laptop.

I went to Facebook and searched for Elena's mom. It took me a while, but I finally found her through a comment on one of Elena's old posts. Beatrice. I clicked on her profile.

The cover photo was a church. The profile picture was Beatrice standing with a pastor, both of them smiling. I scrolled through her posts, Bible verses, church announcements, photos from bake sales and charity events, posts about family values, and raising good Christian children. Elena's profile was the opposite.

Carefully curated, nothing controversial, nothing too personal because her mom was watching. I found what I was looking for in the comments of a church fundraiser post. Beatrice had listed her address for people who wanted to drop off donations. I wrote it down.

I woke Leo up and showed him everything. "I think we need to go talk to her," I said. Elena's mom. Leo rubbed his eyes.

"Why?"

"Because she might know something." Elena's been hiding her from us for a reason. Maybe her mom knows something about all this. Maybe she can help us understand what's going on. Or maybe she can talk some sense into her.

Leo looked at me for a long moment. And if she can't, then at least we'll know more than we know now. I'm still processing what just happened in my own kitchen. The next morning, Leo and I drove to Beatrice's house.

It was about 40 minutes outside the city in a quiet neighborhood with big lawns and American flags on every porch. On the drive, Leo and I talked about what we were going to say. "We just need information," I said. We need to understand what we're dealing with.

"What if her mom is just as unstable as she is?" Leo asked. What if this runs in the family? "Then at least we'll know." I gripped the steering wheel tighter. I'm tired of being in the dark.

I'm tired of being surprised. Whatever Elena's been hiding, I want to know. We pulled up to a small white house with a garden full of flowers and a cross hanging on the front door. My stomach was in knots.

I had no idea what we were walking into. Leo squeezed my hand. "You sure about this?" I nodded. "We need to know what we're dealing with." We walked up to the front door and I knocked.

A moment later, the door opened. Elena's mom was smaller than I expected. a petite woman with gray hair pulled back in a bun, a gold cross around her neck, and eyes that were sharp and tired at the same time. She looked at me, then at Leo, and her face tightened. "I know who you are," she said.

"Not hello, not can I help you, just that I know who you are. I'm Veronica. I'm Elena's friend. This is my husband, Leo.

We were hoping we could talk to you about I know who you are," she repeated. She looked at Leo with an expression I couldn't quite read. resignation maybe or dread. "You'd better come inside." She led us into a small living room filled with religious artwork and family photos. There was a picture of Elena as a little girl on the mantle, smiling in a white communion dress.

Beatrice sat down in an armchair and gestured for us to take the couch across from her. "So," Beatrice said. She finally made her move. I blinked.

"You know what's happening?" "I know my daughter," Beatrice said flatly. I've been waiting for this since the day she told me she met him. She nodded at Leo. "Why don't you start from the beginning?

Tell me what she's done." I told her everything. The dinner where Elena made her demand. The groceries on our doorstep. Breaking in with the copied key.

Cooking dinner in our kitchen. The months of unanswered texts to Leo. The evidence she'd been sneaking into our house and rearranging things. The drawing she'd made of herself in our wedding photo, hitting herself and framing Leo. the recording that was useless because of what she'd done.

Beatrice listened without expression. When I finished, she closed her eyes for a long moment. When she opened them, she looked older somehow. "I hoped she'd grown out of this," she said quietly.

"I really thought the therapy had worked." "Grown out of what?" I asked. "What do you mean?" Beatrice stood up and walked over to a cabinet in the corner of the room. She opened a drawer and pulled out a photo album. She brought it back and set it on the coffee table between us.

She told me she met Leo about five years ago. You were all at some party together. She came home that night and talked about him for three hours. three hours, Veronica.

She didn't sleep. She just talked and talked about this man she'd met and how he was perfect and how they were going to be together. She opened the photo album. It was full of pictures of Leo printed from social media.

Some of them I recognized from posts I'd made. Some of them I'd never seen before. He was in the background at parties, walking down the street, coming out of buildings. She'd been following him, photographing him for years.

"This is the one I found first," Beatrice said. She pointed to a page near the back. "It was a shrine. Candles arranged around Leo's photos.

A journal lying open filled with his name written over and over. Elena and Leo forever. Our wedding day. Names for their children.

I made her destroy it," Beatrice continued. She didn't speak to me for two weeks. I felt like I was going to throw up. This wasn't an obsession that started at that dinner.

This had been building for five years, maybe longer. "When did you find out about me?" I asked. My voice came out small. Beatrice looked at me with something that might have been pity.

She called me sobbing the night she found out you two were dating. She called me every night for months. She'd cry herself sick. She stopped eating.

She went to church every single day and prayed for your relationship to fail. She lit candles asking God to bring Leo back to her as if he'd ever been hers in the first place. Leo leaned forward. "How long has this been going on?" The full truth.

Beatrice's face crumbled for just a second before she composed herself. When you two got engaged, Elena stopped eating completely. I had to force her to drink water. She lost 15 pounds in 3 weeks.

And when you got married, she stopped. Her hands were shaking. "What happened when we got married?" I asked. Beatrice wiped her eyes.

She tried to end her life. Swallowed a bottle of pills the night before your wedding. I found her on the bathroom floor. I got her to the hospital just in time.

She was in the psych ward for three days. She made me swear never to tell anyone. I felt the room tilt. 1five years of friendship, sleepovers, secrets, late night phone calls.

And the whole time, Elena had been building this fantasy world where Leo belonged to her. She'd tried to kill herself because he married me and she'd never said a word. There's something else you should know, Beatrice said. She was looking at me now with that same expression of tired resignation.

She tried to stop your wedding. "What do you mean?" I asked. Two weeks before you got married, I started getting calls from your wedding venue. They said someone had been calling them repeatedly trying to cancel the event, claiming to be you, saying the wedding was off.

I only found out because Elena accidentally used my phone to make one of the calls and they called back. I remembered. I remembered getting a panicked call from the venue coordinator asking if we were still having the wedding. I thought it was a mixup, a glitch in their system.

I never even thought to suspect Elena. And there was a letter, Beatrice continued. She wrote an anonymous letter to Leo about 3 months before the wedding. She sent it to his work address.

I found a draft of it on her computer. It said you were cheating on him, that you'd been having an affair with your coworker for months, that he shouldn't marry you. Leo's face went pale. I got that letter, he said quietly.

I threw it away. I didn't believe it. I thought it was just someone trying to cause trouble. It was Elena, Beatrice said.

She was trying to destroy you from the inside. I thought she was better. Beatrice said the therapy seemed to help. She got a job.

She was functioning. She even told me she was happy for you too. I wanted to believe her. She looked at Leo.

I should have warned you. Both of you. I kept hoping it would just go away. "What do we do now?" Leo asked.

His voice was strained. She needs help. Real help. She needs to be committed again.

But she's an adult now. I can't force her. The only way she goes back is if she's a danger to herself or others. She threatened us, I said.

She said we'd regret making her the enemy. That might be enough, Beatrice said. Combined with everything else, the break-ins, the stalking, the self-harm manipulation, if you document everything and report it, they might be able to get a psychiatric hold on her. We were still sitting there trying to process everything Beatrice had told us when the front door slammed open.

Elena stood in the doorway. Her face cycled through shock, then confusion, then pure rage. "What are you doing here?" Her voice shook. Elena, Beatrice started.

No. Elena pointed at us. "You went to my mother. You're trying to turn her against me." She stormed into the living room.

Her whole body was vibrating with anger. Veronica, how could you do this to me? I'm your best friend. "Elena, we're trying to help you," I said.

I stood up slowly, keeping my voice calm. You need help. What you're feeling isn't "Don't tell me what I'm feeling." She was screaming now. I know exactly what I'm feeling.

I love Leo. I've loved him for five years. And I've been patient. I've been so patient while you got to have him every single day.

She turned to Leo. "Tell her. Tell her you feel it, too. I know you do.

I know you think about me." Leo stood up. His voice was firm. "Elena, I don't have feelings for you. I never have.

I never will." What you're feeling isn't love. It's obsession. And you need professional help. Elena's face twisted.

"You're lying. You're both lying. You're trying to make me look unstable." "Honey," Beatrice said gently. "You need to listen to them.

You need to go back to the hospital. Get help." Like before, "I'm not going back there." Elena backed away from all of us. "I'm not crazy. I'm the only one who sees things clearly.

I love him. Why is that so hard for everyone to understand?" "How did you even know we were here?" I asked. Elena smiled. It was the wrong smile.

Too wide, too sharp. She pulled out her phone and showed us a map with a blinking dot. Air tag in your car. I put it there months ago.

I always know where you are, Veronica. I always know where he is. I know when you go to work. I know when you go to the gym.

I know when you're home alone. She looked at Leo. I know when you're home alone, too. My blood ran cold.

She'd been tracking us for months. Every move we made, she knew about it. I know everything about you, Leo, Elena continued. Her voice had shifted now, almost dreamy.

I know you get coffee every morning at the same place. I know you go to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I know you call your mom every Sunday at 2:00. I know you hate olives, but you eat them anyway because Veronica puts them in her salads. I know you talk in your sleep sometimes.

I've watched you through your window. Leo took a step back. His face was gray. You've been watching me through my window? our window.

Elena corrected. It's going to be our window soon. Beatrice stepped forward. Elena, this has to stop.

You're going back to the hospital tonight. I'm not going anywhere without him. Elena's voice went flat. Deadly calm.

"If I can't have Leo, then no one can." Elena's eyes darted between all of us. Her mother, me, Leo, three people standing against her. Her breathing was getting shallow and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides. "You're all against me," she said.

Her voice cracked. "My own mother, my best friend, the love of my life. Everyone I care about is standing in this room looking at me like I'm some kind of monster. You're not a monster, Elena.

Beatrice said softly. You're sick. And we want to help you get better. I'm not sick, Elena screamed.

The sound made all of us flinch. I'm in love. That's not a sickness. That's the most natural thing in the world.

She turned to Leo and her whole demeanor shifted. Softer now, pleading. Leo, please. You have to understand.

I've given up everything for you. I've waited for years. I prayed for you. I starved myself for you.

I almost died for you. And this is what I get. Leo's face was pale, but his voice was steady. Elena, I never asked you to do any of that.

I didn't know you were doing any of that. And even if I had known, it wouldn't change anything. I don't have feelings for you. I love Veronica.

I chose Veronica. That's never going to change. Elena flinched like he'd hit her. Her face crumbled for just a second.

Then her face hardened again and she turned to me. This is your fault, she said. Her voice was low and cold. You stole him from me.

You knew I loved him and you took him anyway. That's not true. I said I didn't know anything about how you felt. You never told me.

I didn't have to tell you. You should have seen it. You should have stepped aside. That's what a real friend would do.

You don't understand, Elena said. She stopped and looked at Leo with an intensity that made my skin crawl. We're meant to be together. I've seen the sign.

Remember when you held the door for me at that coffee shop three years ago? You looked right at me and smiled. That was a sign. Elena, that's just being polite.

Leo said, "No, it wasn't. You held it for an extra second. You wanted me to notice. And remember at Veronica's birthday party when you asked if I wanted the last slice of cake.

You gave it to me because you wanted to take care of me. That's love, Leo. That was just I was being nice to my wife's friend. You were being nice because you love me.

Elena's voice was getting higher. And that time at the beach when you put sunscreen on my back because Veronica's hands were full. You touched me. You wanted to touch me.

I felt it. I felt sick. She'd been collecting these moments for years. Ordinary interactions that meant nothing.

And she'd twisted them into proof of something that didn't exist. "What about our wedding?" I asked. My voice was harder than I meant it to be. What sign did you see there?

Elena's face flickered. That was a test. God was testing my faith. Testing how much I was willing to sacrifice for love.

You tried to kill yourself the night before. I said, "Your mom told us everything. She shouldn't have told you that." Elena's voice went cold. That was private.

You sent a letter to Leo calling me a cheater. You tried to cancel our wedding venue. You've been sabotaging us from the beginning. I was fighting for my love, Elena shouted.

I was fighting for what's mine, and I almost won. If that stupid venue coordinator hadn't called mom back, you never would have made it to that altar. Beatrice stepped toward her daughter. Elena, honey, you need to calm down.

We're going to call Dr. Dixon. We're going to get you some help. Don't touch me. Elena shoved her mother back.

Beatrice stumbled, but caught herself on the arm of a chair. You've never believed in my love. None of you do. She turned back to me.

Her eyes were wild now. If I can't have him, you don't get to keep him either. She lunged at me. Leo moved faster.

He stepped between us and caught Elena before she could reach me. She thrashed against him, screaming, clawing at his arms. "Let me go." She ruined everything. He was supposed to be mine.

Leo held her tight, his arms wrapped around her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. She kicked and twisted, but he didn't let go. Beatrice was already on the phone, giving the 911 operator her address. "Do you feel it?" Elena asked suddenly.

She'd stopped struggling. Her voice was eerily calm. "Right now, you're holding me. Don't you feel how right this is?" "I feel nothing, Elena," Leo said. His voice was tired.

I feel nothing but sorry for you. You're lying. I can feel your heartbeat against my back. It's racing.

That's because of me. That's because I'm scared of you. Sirens in the distance. Elena's head snapped up.

Panic flooded her face. No, no, no, no. I'm not going back there. Leo, please.

I'll do anything. I'll share. I'll take whatever you give me. Just please don't let them take me.

Leo didn't let go. "You need help, Elena. This is the only way." I can change.

I can be better. I'll stop coming to the house. I'll delete the AirTag. I'll do whatever you want.

Just please, please don't send me back there. Her voice broke completely. You don't know what it's like in there. The white walls, the medication that makes you feel like you're underwater.

The way they look at you like you're broken. "You are broken, Elena," I said. I didn't mean for it to come out so harsh, but I was done. You've been broken this whole time, and none of us saw it.

She went still in Leo's arms. When she spoke again, her voice was different. Hollow. I'm not broken.

I'm just someone who loves too much. That's not a crime. "What you've been doing is a crime," Leo said. "The stalking, the break-ins, the threats."

"I never threatened anyone."

"You said if you can't have me, no one can. What does that mean, Elena? What were you going to do?"

She didn't answer. The sirens were getting closer. Elena's body started trembling. I wasn't going to hurt anyone, she whispered.

I just wanted you to love me. I just wanted someone to pick me for once. Beatrice knelt down so she was eye level with her daughter. Tears were streaming down her face.

"Elena, baby, I pick you. I've always picked you. I'm your mother. I love you."

"You locked me up," Elena said. "You put me in that hospital and left me there." I was trying to save your life. You took those pills.

You almost died. I took those pills because the man I love was marrying someone else and you let him. You could have stopped it. You could have told Veronica about me, about how I felt, and you didn't.

You just let it happen. "That wasn't my place, Elena. That wasn't my decision to make." "It should have been."

Elena was crying now, but it was different from before. This wasn't performance. This was real. Someone should have fought for me just once.

Someone should have looked at me and said, "You matter more." But nobody ever does. Not you. Not Veronica. Not Leo.

I'm always the one who gets left behind. The cops pulled up outside, red and blue lights flashing through the windows. Elena saw them and something in her changed. The fight went out of her completely.

Her shoulders dropped. Her head fell forward. "It's over, isn't it?" she said.

It wasn't a question. "You're going to get help," Beatrice said. "Real help this time. And when you're better—"

"I'm never going to be better, Mom."

"Don't you get it? This is who I am. This is all I am." The officers came through the front door.

They took in the scene quickly. An older woman crying. A man holding a limp woman in his arms. Me standing against the wall.

"She's having a psychiatric episode," Beatrice told them. "She needs to go to the hospital. Ask for Dr. Dixon. He treated her before."

The officers approached slowly. "Ma'am, we need you to come with us," one of them said gently. Elena looked up at Leo one last time.

"I would have been so good to you," she said quietly. "I would have loved you better than anyone ever could. You'll never know what you missed." Leo released her and stepped back.

The officers took her gently by the arms. She didn't fight them. She didn't scream. She just walked between them like she was sleepwalking, like she'd already left her body behind.

At the door, she stopped and turned back. She found Leo's eyes across the room. I'll wait for you, she said. However long it takes.

I'll wait. They put her in the back of the car. Through the window, I could see her pressing her face against the glass. Still watching Leo, still waiting for him to change his mind, to run out and tell her it was all a mistake.

He didn't move. The car pulled away. The sirens faded into the distance. Leo came and stood beside me in the doorway.

Neither of us spoke. Behind us, Beatrice was sitting in her armchair, crying quietly into her hands. "It's over," Leo said finally. Is it?

I asked. I didn't know if I believed it.