Exhausted by Seven Years of Their Drama

My mafia boyfriend, Finn, is always bickering with his childhood friend, Amanda.

For my birthday, she brought me a bullet vibe. "Here. For round two, just in case. I know his stamina better than anyone."

He tossed a bottle of pale foundation at her. "Slap some more on. Maybe then someone will actually want to touch you."

They shoved each other on their way out, slamming the door behind them. The candles on the cake burned down to nothing while I sat alone at the dining table.

The first time our families sat down for a formal dinner, she smiled and slipped him a small bottle of lube. "Take it. So you don't make the poor girl suffer."

His face darkened. "Better than you crying at night, hugging a body pillow."

This time, Finn had arranged a private island vacation.

A mutual friend quietly gave me a heads-up, telling me he was planning to propose on a cliff at sunset.

After a seven-year marathon, I told myself this was it. The finish line was finally in sight.

I dressed meticulously, putting on my most expensive dress, and walked toward the helipad. I pulled open the helicopter door.

Amanda was already in the co-pilot's seat. She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Chloe, you're here? I'm claustrophobic, so you don't mind if I sit up front, right?"

Finn, gripping the controls, turned to look me over.

"Chloe, you sit in the back. I'm worried she'll have a meltdown and start scratching and biting. It'll ruin the mood."

Before I could say a word, Amanda was already arguing with him.

"What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm a burden?"

"It's not the first time I've thought so. Why are you being so dramatic today?"

Their back and forth was so practiced it felt like a script they had rehearsed a thousand times.

In that moment, the exhaustion of the past seven years washed over me.

And for the first time, I realized I didn't want to say yes to his proposal anymore.

My mafia boyfriend, Finn, is always bickering with his childhood friend, Amanda.

For my birthday, she brought me a bullet vibe. "Here. For round two, just in case. I know his stamina better than anyone."

He tossed a bottle of pale foundation at her. "Slap some more on. Maybe then someone will actually want to touch you."

They shoved each other on their way out, slamming the door behind them. The candles on the cake burned down to nothing while I sat alone at the dining table.

The first time our families sat down for a formal dinner, she smiled and slipped him a small bottle of lube. "Take it. So you don't make the poor girl suffer."

His face darkened. "Better than you crying at night, hugging a body pillow."

This time, Finn had arranged a private island vacation.

A mutual friend quietly gave me a heads-up, telling me he was planning to propose on a cliff at sunset.

After a seven-year marathon, I told myself this was it. The finish line was finally in sight.

I dressed meticulously, putting on my most expensive dress, and walked toward the helipad. I pulled open the helicopter door.

Amanda was already in the co-pilot's seat. She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Chloe, you're here? I'm claustrophobic, so you don't mind if I sit up front, right?"

Finn, gripping the controls, turned to look me over.

"Chloe, you sit in the back. I'm worried she'll have a meltdown and start scratching and biting. It'll ruin the mood."

Before I could say a word, Amanda was already arguing with him.

"What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm a burden?"

"It's not the first time I've thought so. Why are you being so dramatic today?"

Their back and forth was so practiced it felt like a script they had rehearsed a thousand times.

In that moment, the exhaustion of the past seven years washed over me.

And for the first time, I realized I didn't want to say yes to his proposal anymore.

...

Up front, the two of them were still bickering.

"You think I'm not sick of you? You threw my limited-edition watch in the fish tank last week. Pay up!"

"That was after you soaked my favorite dress in red wine."

"I did it on purpose. What are you gonna do about it?"

A corner of Finn's mouth twitched. "So childish."

"You're the one who's childish!"

Mia, another friend sitting with me in the back, leaned over to play peacemaker.

"Chloe, not used to flying this high? Lean back and get some rest. I brought some motion sickness pills."

It sounded considerate at first, but then she turned and called to the front, "Amanda, you calm down too. Finn needs to focus on the flight path."

It seemed evenhanded, but the difference in familiarity was stark.

For Amanda, it was a familiar, "You calm down too." For me, it was a polite, distant reassurance.

I quietly fastened my seatbelt and said nothing.

For seven years, I had spent so much energy trying to squeeze my way into Finn's world.

I learned the games their circle played, memorized their inside jokes, and even deliberately copied the way they poured their drinks.

I used to believe that if I just tried hard enough, I could become one of them.

But now, here we were. Amanda had put in no effort, had even picked fights with him at every turn, and yet she was always the one sitting by his side.

Some seats can't be earned through effort.

And some people's favor can't be won, no matter how hard you try.

"What is this lame, sappy music!"

Amanda's brow furrowed as she reached for the console screen. "It's so stuffy in here!"

The cabin was filled with a country folk playlist from my library.

The system was logged into my account. He always kept it that way on his helicopter, knowing I loved it when he played my favorite songs.

"Don't touch that."

Finn slapped her hand away.

"I feel suffocated. Can't I put on something more exciting to get my blood pumping?"

Amanda shot her hand out again, completely unapologetic.

A two-second silence.

"Do whatever you want."

Finn conceded.

Amanda immediately logged out of my account and switched to her own.

The next second, a blast of heavy metal exploded from the cabin speakers.

Finn laughed, exasperated. "You call this 'getting your blood pumping'?"

"I find it pretty relaxing."

Amanda didn't even blink. "You're just getting too old for it."

The two of them were at it again, mocking each other's terrible taste, arguing over who recommended the last crappy movie, and bickering about who started what…

My chest tightened. I couldn't tell if it was motion sickness or something else.

The ocean outside the window flew past in a blur. I pushed the vent open wider.

The cold, high-altitude air rushed in, stinging my eyes.

Finn glanced at me through the reflection in the instrument panel. "The wind's too harsh up here. Close the vent, you'll catch a cold."

I pretended not to hear him. I didn't move.

Amanda had already closed her vent and was back to settling scores with Finn.

"You promised to take me racing in Vegas. It's been three months. How are you going to make it up to me?"

"When did I ever promise that?"

"Don't you dare play dumb with me! You said it at your place, by the pool table. I've got witnesses."

"Are you crazy? You'd get guys to lie for you over this?"

"When you're dealing with a bastard like you, you have to have a few tricks up your sleeve."

They glared at each other in the reflection, then, almost at the same time, they both smiled.

The smile was brief, but it held a chemistry that an outsider could never breach.

I stared at their reflection in the small, mirrored surface and suddenly realized my own face was nowhere to be seen.

I was curled up in the back seat, a complete stranger.

Watching him fight with her, watching her get tangled up with him.

For seven years, I had believed he was just naturally cold, a man of few emotions who didn't express himself easily, someone who kept his feelings guarded.

But with Amanda, he was capable of everything.

He could be wild, he could laugh, he could concede, he could give her an out.

It was just that none of it was ever for me.