A Parasite's Public Reckoning

That night, Graham's call came right on schedule.

The moment I answered, his furious roar blasted through the phone. "Alyssa! Are you out of your mind? Morgan said you ditched her at the apartment! She had to use her own credit card for takeout! And what's this about the nursing home? Their finance department called me, said you're cutting off the funds! Are you trying to kill my mom?"

"Alyssa, is this how you treat my family the second I'm out of town? If you don't fix this immediately, I'm going to have to reconsider our entire relationship!"

Hearing this, I just hummed noncommittally. "Then let's meet when you get back. We can clear this up in person."

My unexpected calm seemed to throw him. Usually, I'd be a mess of tears and apologies by now. He probably thought I was just scared stiff, because he sneered, "What is there to clear up? Is it that Newport venue again? If you have so much free time, why don't you work on improving yourself instead of constantly pressuring me about marriage? Don't you think it's pathetic, how obsessed you are?"

He paused, his tone softening into a condescending drawl. "I'll be back the day after tomorrow. If you want my forgiveness, it all depends on your performance."

He'd clearly forgotten that in our first year together, when he was just a broke student, he had sworn he'd give me the most romantic wedding in the world once he got his PhD from Harvard.

I waited seven years for him to get close to his goal. Then I excitedly started comparing wedding venues.

In our eighth year, I presented him with my carefully selected options. He told me, a flicker of guilt in his eyes, that he was too swamped with his studies to think about a wedding.

In our ninth year, his dissertation was finally done, and he agreed to go dress shopping. I waited for him at the bridal salon all day, only to get a text message saying he'd overslept.

This was our tenth year. And I had just canceled the venue.

I took a deep breath. "Graham, this isn't about the wedd—"

Before I could finish, a woman's clear laugh echoed from his end of the line, followed by Sadie's voice. "Graham, come on!"

He hung up without another word.

I stared at my phone, but I didn't call back.

...

Soon, the day of Graham's return arrived. He texted, telling me to pick him up, which I ignored. Then, he called, insisting the only time he was free was right after he landed; he claimed he'd be buried in the lab for days after that.

To make sure this conversation happened, I drove to the airport.

The traffic was brutal. By the time I arrived, it was already 11 p.m.

The airport arrivals hall was brightly lit.

Through the glass, I saw Sadie pressing her forehead against Graham's broad back, swaying playfully like a pouting child. Graham, meanwhile, was pushing two enormous suitcases—Sadie's luggage.

I honked the horn. The pair, who had been completely wrapped up in their own world, scattered like startled birds.

When Graham saw my car, he strode over and banged on the window. "I told you to be here at seven! Look at the time!"

I rolled the window down a crack. His face was pale from the cold. "There was traffic," I said coolly.

He was furious, about to launch into a tirade, but I cut him off. "If you don't get in, your precious 'study partner' is going to freeze to death."

Graham froze, swallowing his comeback. He yanked open the back door and ushered Sadie in first. Then he glared at me, a silent command for me to get out and help with the luggage.

I ignored him, keeping my eyes fixed on my phone as I replied to a colleague's email.

After a tense few seconds, Graham cursed under his breath and heaved the heavy suitcases into the trunk himself.

In the car, Sadie’s eyes kept flicking to me in the rearview mirror. I met her gaze unflinchingly. My own eyes landed on the scarf wrapped around her neck—and a cold knot formed in my stomach. It was horribly familiar.

It was Graham's. The one he wore every winter.

Last Christmas, he had finally agreed to see a movie with me. When we came out, the wind was biting, and I was shivering.

Nearby, a man took off his own scarf and wrapped it around his girlfriend's neck. I nudged Graham, hinting.

He’d frowned. "I don't like sharing my personal things, Alyssa. Not even with you."

And yet, now his scarf was wrapped snugly around Sadie's neck. So, it wasn't that he disliked sharing. He just disliked sharing with me.

Sadie noticed my gaze and deliberately stroked the scarf, a shy smile on her face. "Oh, Alyssa, don't misunderstand," she said, her voice dripping with faux innocence. "It was so cold while we were waiting, and Graham was worried I'd get sick, so he insisted I wear his scarf. He's just so nice."

I smiled back. "It's just a scarf. Nothing to get worked up about. If anything, it just shows how thoughtless Graham is. It's freezing. He should have put you in a cab instead of making you wait out here with him. All that shivering just to save a few bucks? If you caught a cold, the medical bills would cost a lot more than a taxi fare. Don't you agree, Ms. Cole?"

Sadie’s smile froze on her face.