“Loves me? Loves me not? Or just loves herself?”
“What do you mean, you can’t choose?” Emily glared at her old school friend with such disapproval, as if she’d confessed to a crime. “If you’re torn between two men, it means you don’t truly love either. It’s as plain as day.”
“Maybe it’s plain to you, but not to me,” sighed Charlotte heavily. “I like them both. In different ways. Each has his own strengths.”
“You just love yourself more than either of them, that’s why you’re stringing them along,” Emily pressed on. “Someone who truly loves wouldn’t play with people’s feelings. It’s unfair. It’s cruel.”
“Easy for you to judge,” Charlotte turned away. “Not everyone’s as perfect as you. I’m still learning how to love. I don’t have the experience. One day, it’s the first one. The next, it’s the second. By Wednesday, it’s the first again. I can’t figure it out. It’s not funny. They’re both good men. Both familiar.”
“Flip a coin if you can’t decide,” Emily muttered. “Better than torturing yourself and them. At least your conscience will be clear.”
“Thanks for the advice. Go toss your coins into a wishing well for all I care. And don’t forget—maybe you’ve never even had a choice. Or anyone worth choosing.”
“I’d never lie like that!” Emily shot back defiantly. “I have James. He loves me. I love him. And we’re happy.”
“Sure, sure. Wishing you all the best,” Charlotte smirked bitterly.
…
Three years later. Emily sat alone in a nearly empty pub, tears streaming down her face. A glass of lukewarm wine sat untouched in front of her. That old conversation replayed in her mind.
“Never say never”—who would’ve thought she’d end up in the same predicament? Now *she* was the one agonizing over two men. *She*, the same Emily who once dished out advice like it was nothing.
She’d been with Daniel for over a year. Everything seemed perfect—he was reliable, smart, caring. A dream of a man, really. And yes, serious about their future.
Then, out of nowhere, James reappeared. *That* James. The ex. The one who’d left her because he grew jealous, suspicious, nitpicking over nothing.
They’d broken up when it became clear he no longer saw her as someone he loved. To him, she’d become invisible. Nothing was ever right—what she said, what she wore, where she looked. Then silence. The end. Months of loneliness.
And suddenly—a call. “Hey, how are you? I’ve got no one to talk to. Let’s meet…”
She went. Out of habit. Just to prove to herself it was all in the past.
But there he was—a lost, broken James. Jobless, with an ill mother, alone. He talked endlessly. She listened. And pitied him.
She didn’t mention Daniel. Didn’t say she might be happy. That someone was waiting for her.
James started texting. Calling. Inviting her out. They met more often. Innocently. At first.
With Daniel, nothing changed. He was still there. Caring. Giving little gifts. Brushing her hand gently. Looking at her—*that* look. Warm. Full of love.
But James… It felt like going back in time. The old crowd, shared friends, nights out, gigs, trips. With him, it was like reliving her youth. Daniel didn’t understand. He was serious. Busy. An introvert.
Emily was torn. Her heart ached. Daniel was the future. James was… someone she still pitied. And maybe still loved?
She obsessed over the choices. How to tell the truth? How to decide?
One evening, when she couldn’t take it anymore, she called Charlotte. To apologize. To beg forgiveness for those harsh words.
“I’m sorry about what I said back then… I understand now how you felt.”
“Sorry for what?” Charlotte sounded genuinely surprised. “I don’t even remember who I was choosing. That was ages ago.”
“And now I’m in your shoes. Between two. Terrified.”
“Do you really think love is something you feel ‘between two’? You just don’t love either of them. But you sure love yourself. What if someone did this to *you*? Dated two people—who would you love? *Him*?”
“No one,” Emily whispered.
“There’s your answer. No one. Because that’s what people do when they only love themselves. Emily, if one of them truly matters—look at him. Imagine him gone. Imagine him walking away. Never seeing his smile, never feeling his hand in yours—”
“Daniel,” Emily blurted out.
A shiver ran through her. She pictured it. No more of his eyes, his warmth. No patience. No love.
And in that moment—she *knew* who she loved.
P.S. Sometimes, to hear your heart, you just have to stop lying to yourself.
