I’m a travel vlogger who never really made it big, but I had two people who spoiled me rotten. My number one fan was my boyfriend, Ethan. My number two was my best friend, Ava. They were constantly trying to one-up each other in my live streams, showering me with gifts in a bitter rivalry to be number one in my heart. It was a constant headache. But when a flight mishap sent me home earlier than expected, I walked in on these two, who were supposed to be like oil and water, locked in a deep, desperate kiss. Ava’s voice, breathless, pulled away. “I should go. Cathy will be back soon.” Ethan buried his face in the crook of her neck, his voice muffled. “God, I wish her flight was delayed.” So, I was the obstacle. The inconvenience in their love story. But that’s okay. I won’t be a problem for them much longer. In my third year of vlogging, I had traveled across most of the country, documenting everything with my camera. I edited it all together into a final highlight reel of my life. The title of the first video was: [When you watch this, I’ll likely already be dead.] The title of the last was: [Ethan, Ava, if you can, I hope you forget me.] 1 It seems like when your luck runs out, it really runs out. A sudden downpour started just as I was heading home. My first instinct was to call Ethan and ask for a ride, but then I hesitated and put my phone away. The rain was too heavy; I didn’t want him driving in this. Now, standing outside my own front door, I could feel cold raindrops tracing paths down my hair and into the collar of my shirt. I was soaked through, but my first thought was a strange sort of relief: At least I didn’t interrupt them. I slipped around to the fire escape and waited, my drenched clothes clinging to my skin like a second, colder layer. Normally, I would have rushed inside, desperate for a hot shower. But now, I just stared blankly at my feet, my mind a complete void. Finally, I heard the front door open and close. I took a deep breath, walked back around, and tried to enter the code as if nothing had happened. My hands were shaking, probably from the cold, and I kept messing up the numbers. Just as the automated voice announced, “Please wait one minute before trying again,” the door swung open. Ethan poked his head out, a smile still lingering on his face. “Forget something?” His smile vanished the second he saw me. “Cathy? Isn’t your flight supposed to be at three? Why are you back so early? I was just about to leave to pick you up.” The watch on his wrist read 3:15. He rubbed his face awkwardly. “Look at me, my head’s like a sieve. Something came up with work, and I completely lost track of time.” “It’s okay,” I said softly. “Work is more important.” “Can I come in? It’s raining, and I’m freezing.” Only then did he seem to relax his guard, opening the door wider to let me in. I had barely set down my suitcase when his voice, sharp with suspicion, cut through the air. “Cathy, why are you back so much earlier this time? Your flights are usually delayed.” I heard the unspoken question in his voice. What did you see? I found myself thinking the same thing he was: I wish it had been delayed. Why, in the last three months of my life, did I have to walk in on this? My plane had flown straight into a thunderstorm. From my window seat, all I could see were thick, black clouds split by blinding flashes of lightning. The aircraft lurched and shuddered in the violent turbulence, tossing me around in my seat. The situation felt dire; the cabin was filled with the sound of quiet sobbing. But I just hugged my bag tighter. I’d cried like that three years ago, uncontrollably, when the doctor first told me I had stomach cancer. But after living under the shadow of death for so long, I found a strange sense of calm in the chaos. The man next to me shouted over the roar, “Kid, grab the seatbelt, not your bag! What’s in there, an urn?!” I ignored him. It wasn’t an urn. It was the last three years of my life. My final reel. At that moment, only one thought crossed my mind: Thank God I always carry my camera. If the plane goes down, at least Ethan and Ava can hear my last words. Snapping back to the present, I offered a simple explanation. “The weather was bad. The pilot just flew faster to get through it.” Ethan finally seemed to notice I was dripping water all over the floor. He sprang into action, kneeling to take off my shoes, bustling around to get me a glass of hot water. As he came back from the bathroom with a clean towel, he saw my eyes linger on the disheveled sofa. He rushed over, dropping the towel without noticing. “I took a nap here this afternoon,” he said, a little too quickly. “I’m a restless sleeper. Can’t believe I made such a mess.” He smoothed out the wrinkles on the cushions and picked up a hand-knit blanket to fold it. “I think it’s a little dirty,” I interrupted him. “Let’s just toss it in the wash.” “Good idea,” he said without a hint of argument, snatching the blanket and hurrying to the laundry room. The truth was, the blanket was perfectly clean. I’d had him air it out just a couple of days ago. But the image of the two of them tangled together on it made my skin crawl. I had knitted that blanket for Ava, but Ethan had thrown a fit and claimed it for himself. “No way! I’m your boyfriend. The first blanket you ever knit has to be mine!” Ava had been furious, ready to fight him for it. “Have you no shame, Ethan? Cathy made this for me!” The sight of them, red-faced and tugging at the blanket like children, was embarrassing. I’d had to coax Ava into letting go, promising to knit her an even bigger, better one. They say a triangle is the most stable shape, but not for us. Over the years, scenes like that had become common. With my boyfriend on one side and my best friend on the other, I was always stuck in the middle, playing peacemaker. I just never imagined that while I was busy keeping the peace, they were finding their own kind of harmony behind my back. 2 Ever since the cancer diagnosis, my body felt like a rusted machine. One rainstorm was all it took for it to grind to a halt. I had a fever. Lying in bed, lost in a delirious haze, I heard Ava’s voice cut through the fog. “How did Cathy suddenly get a fever? Ethan, what kind of a job are you doing taking care of her!” A cool palm pressed against my forehead, and the relief was so profound I instinctively leaned into the touch. Ava and I had been inseparable since childhood. I was always the sickly one, thin as a stray cat, my face flushing after the slightest exertion. Ava would always press her hand to my forehead, worrying I was running a fever. Back then, it was always Ava who walked me to the school nurse’s office. Later, it became Ethan who carried me there. Ethan was a senior when I was a freshman. He hit me with a basketball by accident during a game, sending stars across my vision and twisting my ankle. He was consumed with guilt. From that day on, he took it upon himself to get my lunch and fill my water bottle. He checked on my ankle every single day without fail and carried me home on his back. My ankle healed, but he never stopped getting my lunch, sprinting from his class the moment the bell rang just to grab my favorite dishes before they were gone. Ava used to whisper in my ear, “No one is that nice for no reason. He’s up to something.” “Cathy, you’re too trusting. Be careful, or a wolf is going to snatch you up.” Maybe I’m just a creature of habit. Ava had been my friend forever, my only friend. Ethan took care of me, and I fell in love with him. When Ethan found out, he was ecstatic. Ava was furious. “What’s so great about that big oaf? Anything he can do, I can do better. Cathy, why can’t you just love me?” I remember hugging a pouting Ava, repeating over and over, “I do love you. I love you, too.” But you can’t be in love with two people at the same time. Ethan and Ava both saw themselves as the rightful main character in my life, and a bitter rivalry was born. Every time they met, the air crackled with sarcasm and thinly veiled insults. That was one of the main reasons I made my video diaries—I hoped that after watching them, they might find a way to soften toward each other, to not blame one another for what happened to me. You can’t blame anyone for a terminal illness. You can only blame bad luck. I figured that because I had been blessed with the two best people in the world, and the purest kind of happiness, Fate had to take something back in return. “Ethan, did you give Cathy her medicine? She’s going to wake up thirsty and miserable. Go boil some water…” Ava’s voice was sharp, a string of commands fired off without preamble. Ethan just said, “Okay, okay,” his tone lacking its usual defensive edge. It sounded more like… affection. “Ava,” Ethan said her name softly. “Cathy got home right after you left yesterday.” Ava’s voice disappeared completely. I forced my heavy eyelids open just a crack and saw a hand snatch back from my bedside and Ava’s face, pale as a sheet. 3 “Don’t worry, she probably doesn’t know. I tested the waters last night. She was acting just like her old self. She even brought us souvenirs from her trip.” Seeing how shaken Ava was, Ethan was the one who started to panic. He pressed the glass of warm water he’d prepared for me into her hands. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. Drink some water. Calm down.” Ava took a sip, and some color returned to her cheeks. She looked from Ethan to me, lying feverish and unconscious, and suddenly her composure shattered. “So what if she didn't find out this time? What about next time? Ethan, how long can we keep hiding this?!” She paused, wiping away her tears with a fierce gesture. Her nose was red as she said, “I can’t do this, Ethan. The guilt is eating me alive. Let’s end it, before she finds out.” Ethan’s head snapped up. He pulled her into his arms, his movements sudden and desperate. “You’re always talking about Cathy, Cathy, Cathy! How long are you going to play mother to her?” he demanded, his voice tight with frustration. “She’s a bottomless pit of need, Ava. When are you going to start thinking about yourself?” “Ava, love isn’t something you can just give away out of pity. And it doesn’t care about who was first. As long as we both want this, there’s no reason to break up.” His voice was so firm, so resolute. For a second, I was transported back to that summer day when a blushing teenage boy shoved a bouquet of sunflowers into my arms. “Cathy, be my girlfriend! I promise I’ll take even better care of you than Ava does!” I let my eyes fall shut again, a wave of exhaustion washing over me. A bitter tear escaped the corner of my eye, disappearing into my hair. Even his confession of love had been haunted by her shadow. I should have seen it then. “Cough, cough…” The sound of my dry cough made them spring apart. Ava rushed to my side, carefully helping me sip some water. “Cathy, how are you feeling? Still awful?” I took the glass from her, taking small sips until the raw itch in my throat finally subsided. “Much better.” I gave her a smile, the same one I always did. But she couldn’t meet my eyes, turning away and quickly making an excuse to leave. “I’ll go pick up some medicine for you, just to have on hand…” As she stood up, she swayed, pressing a hand to her head as if she was about to fall. “Ava!” Before I could even speak, Ethan was by her side. He steadied her in an instant, one hand on her waist, the other cupping her face, his expression fraught with panic. “Ava, what’s wrong? Are you okay? I’m taking you to the hospital!” He was about to sweep her up into his arms, but she frantically pushed against his shoulders, creating distance between them. “I’m fine. Just got dizzy for a second, I stood up too fast. We don’t need to go to the hospital. Cathy’s the one who’s sick.” She shot me a nervous, guilty glance. “Honestly, Ethan, stop making such a big deal out of nothing!” Ethan, left with his arms empty, looked stunned. His eyes were downcast, his expression unreadable. I took it all in, still pretending I knew nothing. “Ava, is your blood sugar low again? I brought you some Belgian chocolates from my trip. They’re on the desk, go get them.” Then I turned to Ethan. “Ethan, go with her. I brought something back for you too, so don’t you dare steal Ava’s this time.” That seemed to snap him out of it. He stiffly led Ava out of the bedroom. The moment they were gone, my carefully constructed composure crumbled. I stumbled into the bathroom and doubled over the toilet, retching uncontrollably. Acid and streaks of blood burned my insides. I clutched my stomach, leaning against the sink as a cold sweat broke out across my skin, my body shaking with pain. I had been holding it all in while they were here, and the release was overwhelming. The noise brought them running to the door. “Cathy? Are you in there? What’s going on?” With the last of my strength, I locked the door and slid to the floor. The woman in the mirror was a pathetic sight, her face as white as paper. I was trying so hard to hide this from them. I didn’t want them to see me like this. But then… My eyes landed on a lock of my own hair lying on the cool tile floor. I suddenly had no idea how much longer I could hide anything at all. 4 “Ms. Evans, your condition has worsened.” I nodded calmly. I’d been expecting it. That day, after I’d locked myself in the bathroom, I had just picked up that first fallen lock of hair when another one drifted down to the floor. A primal fear seized me. I tentatively touched my scalp, and another clump came away in my hand. The hair loss became relentless. I started vomiting constantly. In just a few days, I had become gaunt and frail. I looked so hideous. I rented a small apartment and moved out without telling Ethan or Ava, avoiding them completely. “Ms. Evans, are you sure you want to continue with palliative care only? Chemotherapy might slow the progression.” The doctor’s voice was gentle, but anyone could see the ashen color of my skin. I adjusted my wig, surprised I could still manage a smile. “Yes. I’m not a fan of pain. Let’s not add to it. Just some painkillers will be fine.” After picking up my prescription from the pharmacy window, I turned and bumped right into someone. “I’m so sorry.” I apologized immediately, only realizing as the words left my mouth that the other person’s voice was achingly familiar. I looked up and met Ethan’s shocked eyes. “Cathy? What are you doing at the hospital?” Before I could even think of a lie, the pharmacist called Ethan’s name. “Dydrogesterone, twice a day, one tablet. Make sure the expectant mother stays calm, no emotional distress.” Ethan took the bag, his movements jerky. “It’s, uh, for my sister.” “Oh, I see…” My voice trailed off as another one cut in. “Ethan, the doctor said I need to be careful in the first trimester. You have to stop stressing me out like this.” The tone was soft, almost a playful pout. It took me a second to even recognize it as Ava’s voice. “Cathy! What are you doing here?” And in that moment, the subtle tension between them finally clicked into place. They were so in sync now, even their shock was perfectly mirrored. “Ava, you’re pregnant? When did you even get a boyfriend? Why didn’t I know?” Ava’s pupils contracted. Her fingers twisted the hem of her shirt, her knuckles turning white. “Cathy, I…” Ethan cut her off, looking me straight in the eye. “I’m her boyfriend,” he said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “And the baby is mine.” 5 That night, after I first discovered their affair, I’d spent hours thinking. Ethan and Ava had been so good to me, so incredibly good, that even after their betrayal, I couldn’t bring myself to hate them. I even thought that maybe, after I was gone, it would be a comfort for them to have each other, to move on together. But now, for the first time, I hated Ethan. Why did he have to rip it all open like this? Why couldn't he just let me live out my last days in peace? “Ethan! What are you talking about?” Ava cried out, her eyes darting nervously to my face. “I know exactly what I’m talking about. Ava, we’re having a child. We can’t let our baby be born without a name.” Ethan’s expression was deadly serious, a look I had never seen on him before. He turned back to me and repeated, “I’m sorry, Cathy. But I’m in love with Ava, and I want to be with her.” “Cathy, let’s break up.” A bitter, indescribable pain flooded my chest, spreading through my entire body. The color drained from my face, leaving my skin almost translucent and making the red rims of my eyes stand out in stark relief. A mouthful of blood suddenly spewed from my lips, and my legs gave out from under me. “Cathy!” Ava screamed and lunged forward to catch me, but then she stopped short, hesitating. “Ava, you’re pregnant. Don’t touch that, it’s filthy.” Ethan pulled Ava into his arms, and she let him, her forward momentum ceasing completely. I stared at the wretched mess on the floor, swallowing hard against the coppery taste rising in my throat. My life was ending, and I didn’t want to be a burden. I didn’t want some grand, dramatic farewell. I just wanted to leave quietly. But Ethan wasn’t done. A cruel smirk twisted his lips. “Wow, Cathy. That’s some perfectly timed theatrics. Didn’t the doctor just say we shouldn’t upset Ava?” he sneered. “Convenient we’re already at the hospital. Saves us the trouble of calling an ambulance.” I used to be frail. It was a known fact. A bad coughing fit could sometimes bring up a little blood. In the beginning, they would panic, scrambling to call for help, rushing to get me water. But I guess it was like the boy who cried wolf. They had just gotten used to it. At Ethan’s words, Ava flinched. The look she gave me changed. I wiped the blood from my mouth and forced a pained smile. “Sorry.” But as I took a single step forward, Ava instinctively clutched her stomach and recoiled, her eyes wide with fear and alarm. I froze. She didn’t have to be afraid of me. I barely had the energy to stand, let alone do anything else. Besides, I had once told her I wanted to be her baby’s godmother. “Ava, when you have a baby, I’m going to be the godmother. I’ll spoil them rotten, an extension of my love for you.” I had even bought a small gold locket, a gift for a baby I would never meet. A way for a piece of me to be there, even after I was gone. I stood there, unsure of what to say. In the end, I did what I did best. I ran. I fled back to my rented room and watched my video diaries, alone. A final look back at the life I was leaving behind. As the memories played out, the sobs I had been suppressing finally broke free. The arrival of their child had shattered every last one of my delusions. There was no more pretending. “How could you do this to me?” I wept into the empty room. “How could you?” I cried until I passed out. When I woke up, the storm had passed, leaving behind a dead, stagnant calm. I called a courier and had him deliver the collection of videos to them. It was three years of my life. I still wanted them to have it. Then, I packed my bag, booked a flight, and terminated my lease. I left with nothing, heading for the place I’d chosen as my final resting place. For three years, I had scouted the perfect location for my grave. I used to be so afraid that every goodbye might be our last, so I cherished every moment. I never thought I would be the one to walk away. Ethan. Ava. Goodbye, for good.
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