Chapter 3 Changes

Chapter 3 Changes

At my request, she often shared skincare tips with me—but she always posted them in our three-person WeChat group. At first, it was just text messages and links to articles or pictures. But later on, she started adding more and more late-night selfies.

In those photos, she showed her fair neck, deep collarbones, her beautifully retouched face, and her loosely fitting nightgown that revealed just a hint of skin. Even as a woman, I thought she looked stunning—so I could only imagine how my husband felt.

“Look at her,” my husband said to me, admiringly. “She’s your best friend, but she takes such good care of herself. She’s still so charming.” His words left a bitter taste in my mouth.

The next day, I tried to gently remind her not to post selfies in the group. But she just laughed and said I was overthinking it, explaining that those photos were just to show the results of using the skincare products.

“You know I do WeChat business,” Olivia said. “I’m in so many groups—I must have sent them to ours by mistake. I didn’t think much of it.”

“What’s wrong with you?” she added. “Are you feeling insecure about yourself?” Her words made me feel awkward and lost for words. Then, with a big smile on her face, Olivia brought up James Taylor—our mutual high school classmate. She said he’d been asking about me indirectly ever since the last reunion.

Let’s be honest—women love being noticed and admired, especially when we’re at an age where we feel stuck in the middle. Just moments earlier, I’d been feeling down, but the thought that my first love still cared about me after all these years made me happy.

But this happiness wasn’t because I still had feelings for my old flame—it was just the vanity that comes with comparing ourselves to other women. Even though I wasn’t as good-looking or in shape as Olivia, knowing that someone still had a soft spot for me after all these years was enough to shift my attention away from the slight resentment I’d felt toward her.

With Olivia taking the lead in organizing, we had a second class gathering. Besides James Taylor, she also invited a few other classmates.

Amidst the bright lights, clinking glasses, and flowing alcohol, everyone drank quite a bit. Someone suggested playing “Truth or Dare,” and soon everyone joined in.

Whoever the bottle pointed to when it stopped spinning lost. The loser had to either answer a question from the winner, complete a dare, or take a drink as punishment.

Maybe it was because we couldn’t hold our liquor, or maybe we just weren’t good at the game—for some reason, James and I ended up losing more and more times. Every time we had to take a punishment, Olivia would subtly bring up stories about our past romance from our younger days, making me feel embarrassed.

In the end, egged on by everyone, James and I—both tipsy—were surrounded by the group and forced to drink a toast with our arms crossed. I’d thought, as Olivia had said, that it was all just a game and no one would take it seriously. But it wasn’t until later that I realized this had all been a setup from the very beginning.

Quietly, everything was starting to change.