Mirabelle awoke to the soft glow of the sun filtering through the curtains of her bedroom, casting a pale golden light across the room. She stretched beneath the covers, her body heavy with the lingering weight of sleep. For a few blissful seconds, her mind was blank, just a warm hum of early morning calm.
Then, reality crept in.
She sighed heavily and dragged herself out of bed, her feet padding against the cool floor as she made her way to the kitchen. The stillness of the house, once comforting, now felt suffocating, a space too big for one person, yet somehow, too small for her thoughts. The smell of brewing coffee soon filled the air, but it did little to ease the gnawing discomfort in her chest.
Sitting down at the small kitchen table, coffee cup in hand, she stared at the steam rising from the dark liquid, her mind far away from the moment. The events of last night played over and over again in her head like a scene from a movie on repeat. Larissa's tear-stained face, her quiet sobs, the awkward tension as they tried to console her—those images clung to Mirabelle, tightening the knot of guilt that had begun forming in her stomach.
Mirabelle sighed, resting her chin in her hand. She had known exactly what would happen when she told Emmett he could sneak away to "handle his private business." She wasn't naive; she knew him better than anyone. She knew how his carefree nature made him oblivious to the emotional turmoil brewing around him. Emmett was a flirt, a charmer, but he was never cruel. He didn't intentionally break hearts—he just didn't see them.
And that was part of the problem.
As much as she valued her friendship with Larissa, Mirabelle couldn't deny that there was a darker part of her, a part that almost... wanted this to happen. She hadn't set out to hurt Larissa, but she hadn't stopped it either. If she were honest with herself, maybe she had hoped it would play out exactly as it had.
After all, Larissa was just one more person who had tried to get close to Emmett. And if there was one thing Mirabelle couldn't allow, it was anyone else being close to him.
She wasn't proud of it. She didn't like this version of herself—the one who schemed and manipulated, the one who pushed people away from Emmett while keeping herself in his orbit. But she'd been doing it for so long that it had become second nature, almost instinctual.
Her mind drifted back to their childhood, to the time when it had all been so much simpler. The trio—Emmett, Valerie, and herself. They had been inseparable, the best of friends. Back then, her feelings for Emmett were innocent, a schoolgirl crush that grew and bloomed with time. He was funny, kind, and protective in a way that made her feel like she was the only girl in the world. She had adored him, and at some point, she convinced herself that he adored her too.
But when they were about twelve, she had finally gathered the courage to confess her feelings. She still remembered the moment vividly—the way her heart raced as she stood before him, fumbling with her words, trying to tell him how she felt. And the way his face had softened into that familiar grin, the one that said he cared, but not in the way she had hoped.
"You're like a sister to me, Mirabelle. It'd be weird, right? Kissing your own sister?"
That had been the first time he rejected her. She had laughed it off, played it cool, pretending like it didn't sting. But it did. Every time after that, when she tried to hint or push just a little harder, he would shut it down with that same line—"We're like siblings. I don't think of you that way." Each rejection chipped away at her heart, but she never let it show. She was strong, or at least she pretended to be.
Over time, she had learned to hide the pain, to tuck it away in the quiet corners of her mind. But the longing had never gone away. Even when they stopped hanging out as much, even when their trio began to drift apart, Mirabelle still clung to the idea that someday, somehow, Emmett would see her the way she saw him.
But years passed, and nothing changed. Emmett remained the same—charming, funny, always surrounded by other girls but never committing to any of them. And Mirabelle... well, Mirabelle had learned how to adapt. She wasn't going to give up on him, but she also wasn't going to sit idly by while other girls tried to claim him.
That's when she realized something: if she couldn't have Emmett, then no one could. She began to sabotage his relationships, subtly at first, but with growing expertise. She would plant seeds of doubt in the girls who showed interest in him, drop little hints that maybe Emmett wasn't serious, or maybe he had eyes for someone else. Most of the time, it worked. The girls backed off, lost interest, or moved on. And Emmett, blissfully unaware, remained single.
It was a twisted game, and Mirabelle knew it. But she couldn't stop. Her love for him was too deep, too ingrained in her very being. She had invested so much of herself in him that she didn't know how to let go, didn't want to let go. So she manipulated, played the long game, biding her time until, maybe, one day he would realize that the person who had been there all along—the one who truly loved him—was her.
She ran her fingers through her hair, frustration gnawing at her. She wasn't a monster. She didn't want to hurt anyone, least of all Larissa. But Larissa had made the mistake of falling for Emmett, and in Mirabelle's mind, that was unforgivable. She could forgive a lot of things, but not that. No one got to have Emmett. No one but her.
And then there was Theo.
The thought of her fiancé sent a wave of discomfort through her. Theo, the ever-doting, ever-loving Theo, who looked at her the way she had once looked at Emmett. He was perfect, really—a kind, handsome man who would do anything for her. And yet, when she thought of him, she felt nothing.
Theo had been part of her plan too. When their trio had started to drift apart, Mirabelle realized she needed to do something drastic to keep herself close to Emmett. So she had let Theo pursue her, let him take her on dates, let him fall in love with her. She had accepted his proposal not because she loved him, but because it was convenient. Being with Theo was a way to show Emmett that she had moved on, that she was over him. It was a lie, of course, but one that helped maintain the delicate balance of their friendship.
And if she was engaged, it also gave her the perfect excuse to keep anyone else from getting close to Emmett. After all, how could she be a threat if she was already taken?
But the truth was, she didn't love Theo. She never had. She couldn't. Her heart belonged to Emmett, and no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, that wasn't going to change.
Mirabelle glanced at her phone, watching as the screen lit up with Theo's name. She didn't feel the usual flutter of excitement one should feel when their fiancé called. Instead, all she felt was an overwhelming sense of emptiness, like she was going through the motions of a life she didn't even want.
She answered the call, her voice bright and cheerful, but it was all forced. Every word, every smile, every laugh—it was all an act, a façade she had perfected over the years.
Theo was waiting for her outside, eager to take her to breakfast, to spend time with the woman he thought loved him. And she would go, she would smile and play the role she had created for herself. But deep down, she knew the truth.
As she hung up the phone and stood up from the kitchen table, her reflection caught her eye in the hallway mirror. She looked at herself—really looked—and for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to admit the truth: she was messed up. Twisted, even. She had become so consumed by her love for Emmett that she had twisted her life into knots, manipulating not just him but everyone around her.
She was sabotaging Larissa's happiness, stringing Theo along, and hurting herself in the process. All because she couldn't let go of the boy who had rejected her time and time again.
Mirabelle let out a tired sigh, running a hand through her hair. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this up, how much longer she could play this game without losing herself completely.
As she walked out the door and saw Theo waiting by the car, his face lighting up at the sight of her, she forced herself to smile. She waved, kissed him on the cheek, and slid into the passenger seat. But as they drove away, her thoughts were elsewhere.
She leaned back in the seat, her heart heavy, and whispered softly to herself, "I have so fucked up."