I thought I’d found the perfect boyfriend in Brennen. After almost a year together, I trusted him and felt like part of his close-knit friend group. Then, during a dinner, one of his oldest friends noticed something on my ankle. What happened next made me question everything about our relationship.
At dinner, my boyfriend’s oldest friend kept glancing beneath the table. The third time, I asked what he was looking at.
“That red butterfly tattoo,” Adrien said. Then he turned to Brennen.
What was I supposed to know?
“Brennen, I thought she knew.”
Brennen slammed his hand against the table.
We’d been together almost eleven months. What was I supposed to know?
***
I met Brennen through a dating app after a year I would rather forget. I’d ended a four-year relationship, moved into a smaller apartment, and spent most evenings eating cereal while pretending I liked being alone.
“You don’t have to marry the first guy who messages you.”
My friend Nina convinced me to create a profile.
“You don’t have to marry the first guy who messages you,” she said. “Just have coffee with someone who doesn’t know your ex.”
Brennen messaged two days later.
Is the dog in your third picture yours?
She’s my sister’s, but she prefers me if I’m being honest.
Our first date was a bit awkward.
Haha, seems like a smart dog.
We chatted for a week before meeting. Our first date was a bit awkward and I spilled coffee on myself, but he was a perfect gentleman.
“Thank goodness,” he smirked when I sat looking at the coffee stain. “I was afraid I’d be the only cluts on this date.”
I liked him immediately.
I hadn’t expected him to be so easy to talk to.
He remembered that I hated cilantro and loved terrible crime shows. When I mentioned a job interview, he wished me luck that morning and called afterward.
I hadn’t expected him to be so easy to talk to. He asked questions and remembered the answers. Once, when I worried that I was talking too much about my old relationship, he said, “You don’t have to pretend it never happened.”
In short, he always made me feel safe.
Twelve days after we’d matched, he wrote, “You’re different. I mean that in a good way.”
He asked about the red butterfly tattoo above my ankle.
I read it three times.
On our third date, he asked about the red butterfly tattoo above my ankle, visible in one of my profile pictures.
I’d gotten it after my breakup. I’d stood outside the tattoo shop for twenty minutes before convincing myself I didn’t need anyone’s permission to do something for myself.
I’d promised myself I’d take my next relationship slowly.
I hadn’t told many people what the tattoo meant. My ex had an opinion about everything I wore, watched, or bought. Getting that small butterfly had been the first decision in months that belonged entirely to me. Brennen hadn’t laughed at the story or told me I was being dramatic.
“You don’t need anybody’s permission to be happy,” he said.
I wrote his words in my journal that night.
I’d promised myself I’d take my next relationship slowly. With Brennen, though, that didn’t really feel necessary.
Two months in, he invited me to meet his college friends.
***
Two months in, he invited me to meet his college friends.
“What if they don’t like me?” I asked.
“They’ll love you. Just don’t believe Adrien’s embarrassing stories about me.”
“Now I want to meet Adrien.”
Adrien stood to greet me.
At the restaurant, Brennen introduced me to Adrien, Caleb, Simone, and Marissa.
Adrien stood to greet me.
“So you’re the woman who got Brennen to cancel poker night.”
“I had the flu,” Brennen protested.
“That’s his story,” Adrien said. “But I’m not mad if he’s happy.”
By dessert, I’d told them about Brennen accidentally ordering six pounds of potatoes.
Adrien was especially welcoming. When the conversation turned to an inside joke I didn’t understand, he paused to explain it instead of letting me sit there smiling politely. By the end of the evening, he was asking whether I’d join them again the following week.
By dessert, I’d told them about Brennen accidentally ordering six pounds of potatoes instead of six individual potatoes.
“Did he cook them?” Simone asked.
“Well, he refused to return them, so we ate potatoes for a week.”
An easy connection like this was incredibly welcome.
Brennen raised his glass. “Apparently nothing is private anymore.”
I laughed with everyone. After my last relationship, an easy connection like this was incredibly welcome.
My ex had made me feel demanding for wanting a returned phone call. Brennen never made me ask twice.
His friends soon felt like mine. Simone invited me shopping. Marissa asked for help with her birthday. Adrien and I argued cheerfully about pizza.
“Does he talk about me?”
One afternoon, while Brennen stepped outside to take a call, Adrien asked, “Things going well?”
“Really well.”
“Good. He seems happy.”
“Does he talk about me?”
“Enough that Caleb complains.”
“Just make sure he treats you right.”
Adrien glanced toward the door.
“Just make sure he treats you right.”
“He does.”
He nodded, but didn’t smile. I assumed he was being protective.
***
The words slipped out before I planned them.
A few days before our six-month anniversary, I told Brennen I loved him.
We were washing dishes. He had soap on his cheek, and the words slipped out before I planned them.
He stopped scrubbing.
“Say that again.”
“No. You heard me.”
Nina asked whether I was nervous about getting serious again.
For a moment, he looked startled rather than delighted. I mistook it for surprise. Then he rinsed the soap from his hands, pulled me close, and asked whether I really meant it. I told him I did. I never imagined anyone else might be waiting to hear the answer.
He kissed my forehead and said he loved me, too.
Later, Nina asked whether I was nervous about getting serious again.
“A little.”
Then I started skipping our Thursday dinners for plans with Brennen.
“Just don’t disappear into somebody else’s life this time.”
I promised I wouldn’t.
Then I started skipping our Thursday dinners for plans with Brennen. I even missed her birthday brunch when he surprised me with concert tickets.
Nina and I had been meeting on Thursdays since my breakup. Sometimes we talked for hours; sometimes we sat in comfortable silence. She’d helped me carry boxes into my apartment when I left my ex. Missing those dinners wasn’t just missing a restaurant reservation.
By December, Brennen and I were discussing whether I’d renew my lease.
“I’ll make it up to you,” I said.
“I’d rather you just show up sometimes.”
She was right. But I kept putting him first.
By December, Brennen and I were discussing whether I’d renew my lease. I had a drawer at his apartment, a favorite mug in his kitchen, and a spare key. Moving in together was a real possibility at this point.
It should have been another ordinary evening.
He invited everyone to dinner one Saturday. I came early to help cook.
It should have been another ordinary evening.
***
Adrien was unusually quiet. When Brennen mentioned we’d been talking about sharing an apartment, Adrien stopped laughing and studied his wineglass.
Later, Caleb brought up a disastrous college camping trip.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Just tired.”
I didn’t push.
Later, Caleb brought up a disastrous college camping trip.
“Remember when Brennen tried starting a fire with wet wood?”
That night, I’d chosen a cropped pair, since the dining room could be sweltering.
“I started one,” Brennen said.
“After we bought lighter fluid.”
Everyone laughed.
I usually wore jeans that covered my ankles when we got together. That night, I’d chosen a cropped pair, since the dining room could be sweltering. Adrien sat diagonally across from me, near the corner of the table, with a clear view beneath it when I crossed my legs.
A few minutes later, he looked again, this time long enough to make me check whether I’d spilled something.
I noticed Adrien glance downward.
I ignored it.
A few minutes later, he looked again, this time long enough to make me check whether I’d spilled something.
Then he looked a third time.
“Adrien, could you stop staring at my legs?”
“Sorry. I thought I recognized something.”
His face reddened.
“I wasn’t staring.”
“You were.”
“Sorry. I thought I recognized something.”
“On my legs?”
“How would you have seen my profile?”
“That little red butterfly. I remember it from your dating profile.”
I frowned. “How would you have seen my profile?”
“Brennen showed it to me.”
“Okay?”
Adrien looked from me to Brennen. His mouth opened, then closed.
Brennen slammed his hand against the table hard enough to rattle the glasses.
“Brennen, I thought she knew.”
Brennen slammed his hand against the table hard enough to rattle the glasses.
“Enough. Not another word.”
Everyone went still.
“Knew what?” I asked.
“When you said you two might move in together, I asked whether you’d finally told her.”
“Nothing,” Brennen said. “He’s being weird.”
Adrien shook his head.
“When you said you two might move in together, I asked whether you’d finally told her. You swore you had.”
“This isn’t the time,” Brennen snapped.
“Then when is?”
“Before Brennen ever messaged you, he showed Caleb and me your profile.”
I pushed back my chair. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Adrien swallowed.
“Before Brennen ever messaged you, he showed Caleb and me your profile. He said he could make any woman fall in love with him.”
“So?”
“Caleb challenged him to make you say you loved him within six months.”
Our six-month anniversary flashed through my mind.
I looked at Brennen.
He said nothing.
“How much?” I asked.
Caleb stared at his plate.
“Five hundred dollars.”
All at once, I thought of the flowers, the calls after difficult days, and the careful dates.
Our six-month anniversary flashed through my mind. I could see him grinning in the kitchen while I admitted I loved him. We’d been washing dishes after dinner. I’d thought it was a private moment. Now I pictured Brennen telling Caleb he’d won.
All at once, I thought of the flowers, the calls after difficult days, and the careful dates. I remembered how Brennen had listened when I explained my tattoo.
Had he understood me, or had he just learned what I wanted to hear?
“He told me you’d said it. I paid him the next day.”
“Did you win?” I asked.
“Please listen,” Brennen said, reaching for my hand.
“Did you take the money?”
Caleb answered instead.
“He told me you’d said it. I paid him the next day.”
“I didn’t know he actually paid you.”
I pulled away.
“I didn’t know he actually paid you,” Adrien told Brennen.
“Because it’s none of your business,” Brennen snapped.
“You made it her business.”
Brennen turned to me.
“You knew how hard my last relationship was.”
“It started as a stupid joke. But I fell for you. What we have is real.”
“When were you going to tell me?”
He couldn’t answer.
“You knew how hard my last relationship was. You let me tell your friends about it while keeping this from me.”
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
I grabbed my coat and Simone offered to drive me home.
“But you let me fall in love with you without knowing why you approached me.”
His eyes filled.
“I love you.”
I wished that could help the situation.
I stared out Simone’s passenger window for most of the ride.
I grabbed my coat and Simone offered to drive me home. I accepted before Brennen could get another word in.
***
I stared out Simone’s passenger window for most of the ride.
“Want me to tell you he’s awful?” she asked after a while.
“No.”
At my building, she walked me to the entrance.
“Want me to tell you he loves you?”
“Please don’t.”
She turned down the radio.
At my building, she walked me to the entrance.
“I didn’t know about the bet,” she said.
Inside, I searched our messages until I found the first “You’re different.”
“I believe you.”
“Can I call tomorrow?”
I nodded.
Inside, I searched our messages until I found the first “You’re different.”
Twelve days after we’d matched.
For three days, Brennen called, texted, and left flowers outside my door, but I didn’t answer.
I’d saved it because it made me feel special, but now I wondered whether he’d meant it or had simply known it would work.
For three days, Brennen called, texted, and left flowers outside my door, but I didn’t answer.
For a while, I tried to separate the beginning from everything afterward. Maybe he’d fallen in love. Maybe all the ordinary days had meant something to him. Then I remembered he could have told me about the bet before we discussed sharing a home, and he’d chosen not to.
Then Marissa called.
“Brennen kept saying we’d destroy something good if we didn’t help.”
“He invited everyone over last night,” she said.
“Why?”
“He wanted us to say Adrien exaggerated and that there’d never been a bet.”
My chest tightened.
“Did anybody agree?”
Brennen had insisted that his love was real.
“No. Adrien told him he was done lying.”
Brennen had insisted that his love was real. Part of me had wanted to believe him. But even after getting caught, he was asking other people to lie for him.
“I knew about the bet. so when Brennen told me you were getting serious, I told him to confess.”
That evening, Adrien called.
“I should’ve told you,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I knew about the bet. so when Brennen told me you were getting serious, I told him to confess. Then he said you might move in together. I asked again, and he promised he’d told you.”
“So you let me trust you, too.”
“And you believed him?”
“I wanted to.”
“So you let me trust you, too.”
He was quiet.
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
The next Saturday, Brennen appeared outside my building with flowers.
Caleb apologized separately and confirmed he’d paid Brennen. He offered the old messages as proof. I asked him to keep them in case Brennen tried rewriting what happened.
***
The next Saturday, Brennen appeared outside my building with flowers.
“I apologized to everyone,” he said.
“Can we start again?”
“After you asked them to lie for you.”
He looked away.
“Can we start again?”
“No.”
“We were happy.”
I handed him the spare key to his apartment and went upstairs.
“I was happy purely because I believed that I knew you.”
“I can’t undo the beginning.”
“No. But you could’ve told me the truth any day afterward.”
He didn’t argue.
I handed him the spare key to his apartment and went upstairs.
Over the next month, Simone and Marissa checked on me.
***
Over the next month, Simone and Marissa checked on me. Adrien stopped attending Brennen’s gatherings and Caleb said they barely spoke.
I didn’t celebrate any of it.
After building up enough courage, I called Nina.
“I’m sorry I kept missing Thursday dinner.”
“I keep thinking I should’ve noticed.”
“Then come this week.”
“Only if you’re paying?”
“Nice try.”
We ordered our usual noodles.
“I keep thinking I should’ve noticed,” I admitted.
“He hid it well?”
Last week, I caught sight of the red butterfly above my ankle
“But he tried too hard.”
“That’s what boyfriends do.”
I finally let myself cry.
Last week, I caught sight of the red butterfly above my ankle while getting dressed.
Brennen had used its picture to make a bet about me.
I’d gotten it because I wanted to remember I deserved a fresh start.
Brennen had used its picture to make a bet about me.
But the tattoo had been mine before he ever saw it, and it was still mine.
