3: 3
Margery frowned, watching me with a flicker of displeasure. "Rodney, when did you turn so paranoid?"
"The three of us have been hanging out since college, all these years. So what if we share a bite of ice cream?"
Emmet put on the same careless look.
"Right, Rod. If Margie and I really had something going, we'd have gotten together back in college."
Right. We were college classmates. Seven years of friendship.
Back in college, Margery, Emmet, and I were all in the campus radio club.
I joined first. Then Emmet said he was bored and joined too.
Emmet knew I liked Margery.
Margery was outgoing, always joking around, always wanting to game with the guys.
It's laughable now, but I actually taught myself online games just for her,
hoping she'd play one round with me.
Emmet made a point of pushing us together, finding chances to seat me beside her.
But I was wooden and gutless, barely able to look her in the eye.
All I could do was watch Emmet mess around with her without a care.
I poured every secret feeling into scripts and read them on the radio club's show.
Little by little, the whole school knew the radio club had a gifted writer.
On Valentine's Day of my junior year, in the middle of a heavy snowfall, Margery handed me a heart-shaped box of chocolates and asked if I wanted to be her boyfriend.
My head went blank. "Are you really confessing to me? I thought you liked Emmet…"
She wrapped her arms around my waist and rested her head on my chest. "Silly. Why would I ever like his type?"
"Emmet loves the spotlight too much, and he's flighty. I only like you. You're steady, dependable. You're the one I want to spend my life with."
Back then I was drowning in happiness, and I believed every word.
Steady and dependable.
In the end, those two words became the chokehold I've worn for seven years.
Because of those words, I made room for Emmet countless times.
I put up with him calling in the middle of the night for Margery to come game with him. I put up with Margery sitting up all night nursing him when he was sick.
There was even one New Year's Eve when we were playing a game,
and Margery actually dug out the diary where I'd written about my crush on her, and read it out loud in front of Emmet.
I was mortified and furious, and the two of them just laughed.
What exactly did she think my feelings for her were?
"I'm tired. I want to go lie down for a bit." I stood up.
"Go, go, get some rest." Margery waved me off, then turned to Emmet. "So tonight let's hit that new Japanese place? You've been going on about it for days."
"Sure, let's go." Emmet agreed on the spot.
I quietly got up, walked into the bedroom, and shut the door.
That Japanese restaurant — I'd booked it long ago.
But Margery kept putting it off, stalling and stalling until now.
Three years dating, one year married,
and Margery and I had never once had a proper meal at a decent restaurant.
Was it that she didn't want to go, or that she didn't want to go with me?
The thought pushed me past holding back. I pulled the door open and walked back out.
