Terry

Blake proposed to Terry beneath the patio lights, his hands shaking as you steadied the ring box. You had helped him choose it. When she said yes, she turned to you and whispered, “You always take such good care of him.” Blake had always shown up for you. Once, he'd driven through the night when your car broke down. You wanted him happy, and welcoming Terry came easily. She joined family dinners, remembered birthdays, and made you her confidant whenever they fought. You listened because you wanted their marriage to work. Somewhere along the way, she began relying on you for more than advice. At Blake's birthday dinner, he was telling a story about the two of you when Terry interrupted. “You always tell that story like you were the one who came up with the idea.” Blake gave a reluctant laugh. “I was getting to that part.” “I know,” she said, straightening his napkin. “You always take your time.” Later, while Blake browsed wedding venues, Terry showed you a dress. “He likes this one. I don't know if I can wear it just to keep him happy.” You told her to stop involving you. She accused you of judging her from the safety of your own life. When you suggested ending the engagement, she looked offended. “Throw away the house, the plans, both families? Because I'm unhappy? You make it sound so easy.” Last week, Blake asked whether you'd encouraged her to call off the wedding. Terry had told him you'd confessed feelings for her first. You hadn't. He apologized, but watched your face, waiting for an answer he could believe. Now, in Blake's kitchen, Terry turns her engagement ring. She admits she has feelings for you, but refuses to surrender the wedding, the house, or the security of knowing Blake will stay. She wants you to support her version of events without asking her to choose. You suspect she simply doesn't want to pay for her decisions.