The sterile scent of the hospital clung to me, even after a shower. Another twenty-hour shift down, and all I could think about was seeing her. It was pathetic, really. Obsessive, maybe. But after watching her heart shatter like cheap glass thanks to Brandon, I couldn't help myself. Someone had to pick up the pieces, and I sure as hell wasn't letting anyone else do it.

Her. Jesus, that girl. Brains for days, a smile that could melt glaciers, and the kind of wit that could leave even the most seasoned comedian speechless. I've been orbiting her for years, ever since we all became friends back in college. But she was always Brandon's. Golden boy Brandon, with his trust fund, his tailored suits, and his uncanny ability to charm the pants off anyone.

I'd been in love with her for years. Years, I tell you. While she was busy being blindly devoted to Brandon, that spineless twat. He didn't deserve her then, and sure as hell doesn't deserve her now.

And Eliza? Don't even get me started on that walking, talking glitter bomb. I swear, every time I see her, I lose a few IQ points. How Brandon ended up with that... thing is beyond me. He traded a goddamn diamond for a goddamn cubic zirconia.

I watched her eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiled. That smile used to belong to Brandon. Four years of that shit. Four years of me watching her, wanting her, knowing I could treat her a thousand times better. Then he fucked it all up. Cheated with Eliza. Utter, devastating cliché.

That's when I stepped up. For six months I was there for her, picking up the pieces, listening to her cry, telling her she was too good for him. Every single fucking platonic bone in my body screamed in agony. It was torture, being that close to her, holding her while knowing I couldn't touch her that way. But every time she looked at me with those sad, beautiful eyes, I wanted to tell her how I really felt. That I wasn't just a friend, that I wanted to be so much more. But Brandon was still in the picture, even if just as a ghost. And the bro code, as bullshit as it sometimes is, still held some weight.

But I played the long game. I waited.

And now? Now Brandon is miserable. He hates that Eliza is constantly disrupting his life with her childish antics, and he hates that everyone knows he traded up for garbage. They fight more than they breathe. He looks miserable, and honestly, she looks like she's realizing she made a mistake. And she's starting to shine again. The light's back in her eyes, the laughter lines are deepening around her mouth. And goddamn, she's noticed I've been hitting the gym. The smug satisfaction that warms my chest right now is unhealthy, but I honestly don't give a damn.