Trust, they say, is the foundation of any good relationship.
It’s sturdy, strong—until a single crack appears.
And once it starts to splinter, well…
Sometimes the one holding the hammer doesn’t even realize it’s in their hand.
Friendly Fire
You can always tell when someone doesn’t like you. They don’t have to say a word.
It’s in the way their gaze lingers just a second too long, the tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach their eyes.
It’s subtle—easy to miss, even—but you feel it.
That’s how it started with Nina.
I first noticed it a few weeks back in the office.
Ethan—my coworker and a platonic friend—had asked me for a favor. He was planning something big for his girlfriend, an anniversary surprise that was straight out of a romance novel.
Ethan Hayes, the most pragmatic guy I know, had decided to take ballroom dancing lessons so he could sweep Nina off her feet. Literally.
“It’s going to blow her mind,” he’d said, grinning sheepishly as I handed him the dance studio brochure. “I’m terrible at it, though.”
“That’s part of the charm,” I teased. “The effort counts.”
I was genuinely happy to help.
Actually, I liked Ethan—everyone at the office did. But I really liked him.
He was reliable, kind, the sort of coworker who’d take on someone else’s workload just because they were having a bad day.
So helping him pull off his surprise—flowers, a venue, the lessons—felt like a small way to return the favor.
But then… Nina started showing up.
At first, it was just little things.
She’d drop by the office out of the blue—“Just passing through,” she’d chirp with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Her gaze would always land on me if I happened to be talking to Ethan. And, I knew she was jealous.
Sadly, there was no reason for her feel that way. Ethan didn’t see me in that way.
If he and I laughed about something silly—like about the time Ethan stepped on his dance instructor’s foot and nearly knocked her over—Nina’s eyes would narrow, just a bit.
I brushed it off. People get protective. I probably would have too is Ethan was mine.
But then, one afternoon, I caught her watching me from across the street as I left work. She was in her car, pretending to look at her phone, but her eyes followed me as I walked to mine.
I stopped, keys in hand. For a split second, we locked eyes.
She looked away.
It was nothing. Probably nothing.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling: this wasn’t just in my head.
Passive-Aggression, GPS, and Guilt
The next time I ran into her, it was face-to-face.
I was coming back from lunch when I saw her waiting outside the office building. She was perched on a bench, legs crossed, her phone in her hand but her gaze nowhere near the screen.
The moment she saw me, she straightened and smiled—a little too tightly.
“Hi, Lena,” she said as I approached, voice chipper and casual, like we were old friends. “Spending a lot of time with Ethan lately, huh?”
I blinked, caught off guard.
There it is, I thought. The thing I’d been feeling.
I forced a laugh, trying to keep it light. “Just helping him out with something. You’ll thank me later, I promise.”
Her smile twitched. “I’m sure.”
I walked inside, pretending I wasn’t rattled, but I couldn’t shake her tone. Friendly on the surface, but sharp underneath—like there was a second conversation happening between the lines.
That was when things got weird.
One evening, I stayed late to finish a report. The office was mostly empty, and I was in the zone when I heard the faint shuffle of footsteps.
I looked up just in time to see a shadow disappear down the hallway.
Curious, I stood and peeked around the corner.
The building was dim, the only light spilling out from a few offices.
And there, at the far end of the hall, I spotted Nina.
She was standing near Ethan’s desk, hands at her sides, just… looking at it.
What was she doing here?
Before I could say anything, she turned and walked briskly toward the elevator, her heels clicking against the tile.
She didn’t see me. Or maybe she did, and that’s why she didn’t stop.
Okay, I told myself. That’s not normal.
I spent the next day trying to shake it off, but my patience was wearing thin. Ethan had no idea what was going on, completely oblivious to the tension radiating off his girlfriend.
And I wasn’t about to stir up drama.
So I kept my mouth shut.
Until the day I noticed the car.
It was a Friday evening. I was heading out, arms full of files, when I spotted her car creeping past the parking lot entrance—slow enough to look deliberate. I stopped mid-step, my stomach twisting.
Is she following me?
For a long second, I stood there, watching her taillights disappear around the corner.
A surge of frustration bubbled up inside me.
I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I wasn’t sneaking around with Ethan.
I wasn’t the villain in this paranoid little narrative she’d built, even though I did like her boyfriend.
I thought about confronting her. About telling Ethan. But I couldn’t bring myself to.
“Forget it,” I muttered as I climbed into my car. “Let her think what she wants.”
But deep down, I knew this wouldn’t be the end of it.
People like Nina—people who look for cracks where there aren’t any—always push until something breaks.
A Showdown at the Ballroom
The day Ethan’s surprise finally unraveled began like any other, but I should’ve known better.
In hindsight, Nina’s paranoia had been simmering for weeks—quiet but steady, like water just about to boil.
Ethan had asked me and a couple of coworkers to meet at the Grand Hall Dance Studio to finalize details for the anniversary surprise.
He’d completed his last dance lesson earlier that morning, and now we were fine-tuning the setup: a small ballroom decorated with fairy lights, roses lining the floor, and music ready to play.
It was perfect.
As I helped arrange flowers near the entrance, I glanced across the room to see Ethan twirling in place—half-joking, half-practicing—while two other coworkers laughed.
He was in good spirits, light on his feet for someone who’d spent weeks convinced he was “all left shoes.”
I grinned to myself. The guy had heart.
And then the doors slammed open.
It was loud—so loud the laughter cut off mid-breath.
Everyone turned, and there she was: Nina.
She stormed into the ballroom like she was marching onto a battlefield, her face pale and flushed at the same time. Her eyes locked on Ethan first, then flicked to me, narrowing like lasers.
“I knew it,” she said, her voice trembling.
She lifted a shaking hand, pointing straight at me. “I knew you were sneaking around with her!”
I froze, a bouquet of roses halfway to the table. The silence in the room was deafening.
Ethan just stared at her, blinking like he couldn’t process what was happening.
“What are you talking about?” he said finally, his voice steady but sharp.
Nina laughed—an unhinged, bitter sound.
“Don’t play dumb, Ethan! I tracked you! I know you’ve been coming here every weekend. And now look!”
She gestured wildly to me, then to the flowers, the fairy lights—every part of the romantic setup. “Here she is, helping you with… with whatever this is!”
A ripple of disbelief spread through the room.
I glanced at Ethan’s other coworkers. They were frozen in place, eyes wide, trying to make sense of the scene.
Someone whispered, “Tracked him?” like they weren’t sure they’d heard her right.
Ethan’s face shifted—hurt, anger, and embarrassment all flickering at once.
“Wait,” he said quietly. “You tracked me? You put a GPS tracker on my car?”
Nina faltered, her confidence cracking. “I—I didn’t have a choice! You’ve been so secretive. I thought you were—”
“With Lena?” Ethan finished for her, his voice rising. “Are you serious?”
He turned to me, and I just shook my head, holding up my hands.
“Don’t look at me. I had no idea she was following you.”
The silence stretched for what felt like forever.
And then, in the most surreal moment of my life, Ethan walked over to a nearby table, picked up one of the printed invitations, and held it up.
“Nina,” he said, his voice calm but cutting, “this is what I’ve been working on.”
She squinted at it. Everyone in the room did. In looping script, the invitation read:
“A Night to Remember: Celebrating Our Anniversary – Ethan & Nina.”
The color drained from her face. She blinked once, then twice, like she was struggling to comprehend the words.
“You… you did this for me?” she whispered.
Ethan’s voice was flat. “For weeks, I’ve been taking ballroom dance lessons—for you. I wanted to surprise you. Lena’s been helping me coordinate the flowers, the venue, and the details.”
He gestured to the room around us, frustration breaking through his calm exterior. “And you thought I was cheating?”
The realization hit Nina like a wrecking ball.
She looked around the room—at the flowers, the lights, the confused stares of Ethan’s coworkers—and then back at Ethan.
For the first time, she seemed to see the hurt in his eyes.
“I didn’t know…” Her voice was barely a whisper.
When Trust Breaks
Ethan ran a hand through his hair, turning away from Nina to address the rest of us.
“I’m sorry about this,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand.”
One of the coworkers coughed awkwardly, murmuring, “No worries, man.”
Another muttered under their breath, “Tracking someone’s car? That’s… next level.”
Nina flinched. The irony of it all—her jealousy, her need to control, her wild assumptions—had shattered whatever trust Ethan had left.
She’d humiliated him in front of his friends and coworkers.
Worse still, she’d sabotaged a gesture meant to celebrate her.
Ethan turned back to her, his expression unreadable.
“You don’t trust me, Nina,” he said simply. “You followed me. You accused me. And now, everyone here knows just how little you think of me.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “Ethan, please… I just—I didn’t mean—”
He shook his head, cutting her off. “Love without trust doesn’t work. And you’ve shown me exactly where we stand.”
With that, Ethan walked toward the door, his posture tense but his steps steady.
The others exchanged uncomfortable glances, but no one followed him.
After a beat, I picked up the bouquet I’d been holding, placed it on the table, and turned to Nina.
“You know,” I said softly, “he really did all this because he loves you. I hope you think about that.”
Moving On
After a few weeks, Ethan called me one day and asked me to lunch, as a sort of thank you for helping him out.
It was strange, but we had always been friends, so I gladly accepted.
During lunch, I figured he’d vent about Nina…
But, instead of that, he wanted to talk about me.
After he asked for the check and I was thanking him for lunch, he said something amazing.
“You know, sometimes the people who you think are so perfect turn out to be the worst sort of person in your life,” he said. “And when you realize it, you begin to see other people in a new way.”
“Will you let me take you to dinner next time, as a real date?” he asked.
I couldn’t believe it, but of course, I accepted.
Now, Ethan and I are celebrating our 3 year anniversary.