Ken saw that I still wouldn't play along, and his face dropped again.
"Monica! Do you always have to ruin everything?"
"You're the one who kept whining about losing weight, but you couldn't keep your mouth shut or get off the couch. Now we're going out of our way to help you, and it's seven days, tops. You can't even manage that?"
Not going along with them was called ruining everything.
Before, I gave in to them on everything, just so I wouldn't ruin the mood.
And what did I get for it?
Lucy shot Ken a sharp glare.
"Shut up! Don't kill Mon's motivation like that!"
Then she took my arm and pulled me toward the door.
"Mon, if you don't want to go running, then we'll do the stairs. That works, right?"
She ignored what I wanted and dragged me into the fire stairwell.
We'd only climbed a few steps with her hauling me along when a stabbing pain shot through my stomach.
The doctor had warned me: no strenuous activity for three months.
I tried hard to pull my hand free, but Lucy stared at the cold sweat on my forehead and made a show of it.
"Mon, how are you this out of shape? You really don't move around enough!"
She called Ken over.
"Let's both take Mon up together, that way she'll actually stick with it!"
I was in too much pain to speak, but Ken was already pulling with Lucy, hauling me up the stairs.
The force of it made me suck in a sharp breath from the pain.
My body instinctively fought against their pulling.
The second they felt me resist, the two of them let go at the same time, like they'd planned it.
The momentum threw me backward down the stairs.
I tumbled down step after step, the pain everywhere, until the tears came pouring out.
Lucy and Ken snapped out of it and came scrambling down to stop me from rolling any further.
But coming down the steps, Lucy stumbled and fell.
Ken, who should have grabbed my hand, twisted around instead and caught Lucy against his chest.
In the end the weight of both of them came crashing down right on top of me.
The pressure crushed my stomach, and the pain sent stars bursting across my eyes.
Something warm and metallic rose up my throat.
"Lucy, are you okay?"
Ken helped Lucy up, saw the scrape bleeding on her forehead, and swept her into his arms, rushing straight for the hospital.
No one saw me cough up a mouthful of blood, and then black out completely.
When I woke again, I was in the hospital.
The nurse told me a neighbor had found me passed out in the fire stairwell and called 911 for me.
The doctor frowned and scolded me.
"Didn't I tell you there's a limit to this weight-loss business?"
"You just had ribs removed. First you're throwing back diet pills from God knows where like your life doesn't matter, and now you ignore my orders and go do strenuous exercise. Do you actually have a death wish?"
"Ten more minutes and not even a miracle could have saved you!"
That was when I learned that the impact of the fall, plus that one crushing blow from Ken and Lucy, had turned my spleen to pulp.
To stop me from doing anything else this reckless, the doctor shoved a photo of the spleen they'd cut out right in front of me.
"See for yourself. Was this weight really worth losing?"
I looked at the picture and wanted to defend myself.
In the end all I did was quietly thank the doctor and the neighbor.
"I know I was wrong."
Wrong for loving a man who wasn't worth it, and a best friend who wasn't worth it.
This time, I was in no rush to get discharged.
Five days in the hospital, and not one call from Ken or Lucy.
Instead, Lucy's feed had a new post every day: photos of Ken at the cosmetic surgery clinic, keeping her company while they repaired the scar on her forehead you could barely even see.
The day I was discharged, my phone buzzed. A bank charge.
The amount was $129,000, paid to the cosmetic clinic fixing Lucy's scar.
Then my phone lit up with an update alert from my budgeting app.
After Ken and I started dating, I'd picked up the habit of logging every expense so we wouldn't overspend.
Now the app was telling me that over three years together, after subtracting what I'd spent, Ken had spent a total of $130,000 on me.
Just now, he'd added in the $50,000 for the wedding dress.
So the $129,000 he'd pulled from my account through our linked payment account, I understood exactly what it meant.
But even in a breakup, that's not how you settle accounts.
Before I could go looking for him, Ken called.
"You saw the bank charge, right? That's the medical bill you owe for hurting Lucy."
"Lucy told me not to blame you, so I won't say anything more."
"At tomorrow's wedding, if you can fit into the mermaid gown, I'll marry you as planned."
"If you can't, then Lucy will wear the gown and the veil and stand in for you, and you can come out when it's time for the toasts."
"To marry you, this is the only way I could think of that works for everyone. Mon, don't hold it against me, and don't make things hard for Lucy anymore..."
I cut him off softly.
"Fine."
Ken breathed out in relief, and before he even hung up, he was telling Lucy, delighted:
"Lucy, you really are the smart one. She saw me settling the accounts and thought I was angry, that I didn't want her anymore! So to marry me, she actually agreed!"
"So when you stand in for her tomorrow, she definitely won't make a scene!"
I laughed softly and hung up.
I didn't want the gown or the man anymore. But the scene I was going to make, that still had to happen.
