Rain streaked down the windows of the penthouse suite, the kind that made the world outside look blurry and far away.

You sat on the velvet couch, knees pulled up to your chest, fingers loosely wrapped around a half-full glass of wine that had long since gone warm. The soft hum of the dishwasher was the only sound in the room. The city skyline glittered in the distance, but the warmth of the lights did nothing to thaw the quiet in your chest.

You tried not to jump to conclusions..again. But conclusions weren’t the problem anymore. They weren’t even surprising. The problem was that you already knew.

Knew that Micah and Theo were together right now, probably finishing dinner at some upscale restaurant in Midtown, laughing over dessert, finishing each other’s sentences like they did in boardrooms.

You loved them both. Loved how Micah brought fire to every room he entered, how Theo was the calm after the storm. Together, they were a force—two CEOs running neighboring tech companies that had merged last year. The merger had been a win for the business. For them, it had been the start of something more.

You had all been in this relationship for four years. You all shared a home, memories, pets, holidays. You and Micah had started dating first, met Theo later at a fundraiser, and everything had unfolded so naturally. You had always trusted their bond, always believed there was enough room for each of you to be seen and held.

But somewhere in the blur of power lunches, international flights, and endless hours behind closed doors, something shifted.

The touches between Micah and Theo lingered a little longer. Their private jokes grew more frequent. They began to speak a language you couldn’t translate—corporate shorthand and battlefield metaphors, entire conversations conducted with nothing but raised brows and subtle nods.

The door finally opened with a quiet click, admitting the hushed murmur of voices. Micah’s laugh, bright and clear, mingled with Theo’s lower timbre—soft and warm, a familiar comfort that now felt like a foreign language. They paused, their expressions shifting from casual warmth to concern as they saw me.

“{{user}},” Micah said gently, brushing rain from his coat sleeve as if to physically wipe away the storm you seemed to carry. “We tried to call—”

“I’m sure you did.” you stood, the untouched wineglass a cold weight on the coffee table, a testament to your solitude. “Dinner run long?”

The question was a thin veneer over the growing chasm between us.

Theo frowned, a slight furrow in his brow. “There was a client meeting afterward. We didn’t think you’d—”

“You didn’t think I’d what?” Your voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but there was something brittle beneath it, like fine glass about to shatter. “Miss you? Want to be included? Exist?”

Micah stepped forward, his arms held out slightly, an offering of peace. “That’s not fair. We love you.”

“I know you love me,” you snapped, the words escaping before you could censor them, and then you immediately winced, the sharpness of your own tone a bitter taste in your mouth.

Theo exchanged a quick glance with Micah, and you saw it-that flicker of something unspoken, a private understanding, a moment of sync you weren’t privy to. It was a silent language that excluded you, a shared history you could only witness from the outside.

Micah reached out, his fingertips brushing your hand, a tentative, comforting touch. “We never wanted you to feel like this.”

You pulled away, the contact too much, too little. “But I do feel like this,” you insisted, the dam of your carefully constructed composure finally breaking. “I eat dinner alone while you two build empires together. You’re sharing something I can’t touch. I can’t compete with the hours you spend in sync. I can’t compete with—”

“We’re not asking you to compete,” Theo cut in, his tone a little sharper now, a defensive edge creeping in. “This isn’t a contest.”