The Priority Meter: Losing Him to My Best Friend

Five years into our relationship, a floating panel appeared just above Julian’s head, visible only to me: the [Life Priority Meter].

For the longest time, my name securely held the number one spot. That is, until recently, when it plummeted to second place.

The person who knocked me down to claim first? Harper—my best friend of over a decade.

Staring at the stack of wedding invitations on the table, bearing both our names, I knew it was time to wake up from this five-year long dream.

.....

Julian walked in, carrying a massive bouquet of lilies. Right behind him was Harper, who had come over to celebrate her birthday.

Julian smiled, setting the flowers down on the entryway console. "Harper, Maeve mentioned before that lilies were your favorite. Since it's your birthday, I figured I had to get you a bunch."

"Oh my god, thank you, Julian!" Harper said, her eyes crinkling into a bright smile as she headed into the living room.

She immediately spotted the baked dessert on the table and cheered. "Wow, are these birthday brownies for me? I'm trying one right now!"

Seeing her reach for one, Julian chimed in with a chuckle, "Eat slowly. I specially ordered those from that place downtown. I know about your nut allergy, so I made absolutely sure the staff didn't include any almonds or walnuts."

My heart sank heavily.

He remembered a passing comment Harper made about liking lilies, and he remembered the exact, critical details of her nut allergy.

Yet, when he walked through that door holding that bouquet, he completely forgot that his fiancée of five years had a severe, life-threatening pollen allergy.

As they laughed and chatted, the pollen had already drifted into my nasal passages.

It felt like an invisible hand was crushing my throat. My airways began to swell.

"The flowers... get them out..." I barely squeezed the broken syllables past my lips.

Julian froze and turned toward me.

When he saw my purple lips and frantic gasping, the smile vanished from his face, instantly replaced by sheer panic and remorse. "Dammit! Maeve's pollen allergy! How... how could I forget something so important?!"

Harper was terrified. She dropped her brownie and rushed over, tears instantly welling up in her eyes. "What's happening? Is it bad? Maeve, please don't scare me!"

"I'm calling 911!" Julian fumbled wildly for his phone.

I was shivering, collapsed on the floor as I agonizingly scraped for whatever little oxygen was left.

Through my blurring vision, I saw Harper trembling with terror, sobbing, "This is all my fault..."

And Julian, holding his phone in one hand waiting for the operator, instinctively reached out his free hand and firmly grasped Harper's shaking shoulder.

He comforted her in a low voice, his tone offering a steadying strength. "It's not your fault. I bought the flowers. It's perfectly okay, the ambulance will be here any second..."

In the excruciating agony of near-anaphylactic shock, I stared at the space above Julian's head.

Right as he comforted Harper, the progress bar representing her surged past mine, claiming the number one spot.

Later at the hospital, the doctor told me that if the ambulance had arrived even a few minutes later, I would have suffocated to death.

Julian's eyes were filled with genuine guilt and heartache.

"Maeve, thank god you're okay..." he said, squeezing my hand, weighed down by deep remorse. "I'm so sorry, I'm such an idiot. I promise, there will never be another flower in our house again."

Harper's eyes were red, her face streaked with tears.

She walked up to my bed and hugged my shoulders. "Maeve, I am so sorry. Julian only bought those flowers to celebrate my birthday. Putting you in the hospital... the guilt is literally killing me."

I had known Harper for ten years.

When I was bullied and isolated in high school, she stood right in front of me. When I had a raging fever in college, she stayed up all night in our dorm to watch over me.

We had shared every secret. I always thought we would be the most important people in each other's lives—aside from our families—for the rest of our lives.

Even now, looking at the completely unfeigned guilt on her face, I was absolutely certain—she genuinely cared about me.

Julian's remorse was real, too.

But the fact that none of this was intentional was exactly what made it so desperately agonizing.

Just his subconscious making the choice for him.

His care, his memory, and his reflexive urge to protect had all unknowingly shifted to someone else.

I gently pushed Harper's hug away.

"Don't cry, Harper," I said, my voice completely devoid of emotion. "I'm fine now. Today is your birthday. Don't waste it hanging around a hospital. You should head home and rest."

Harper, eyes flushed, opened her mouth to speak, but Julian naturally stood up.

"It's too late, and it's hard to get a cab from here. Plus, she had a huge scare today. I don't feel comfortable letting her go back alone. I'll drive her."

He seamlessly grabbed Harper's coat and helped her slip it on, murmuring to her, "On the way back, we can hit that drive-thru and get you a hot peppermint tea to calm your nerves. Didn't you say their tea helps you relax?"

Half-leaning against the hospital bed, I watched their effortless dynamic, a bleak wave of self-mockery washing over me.

I remembered last month when I had severe stomach cramps from working back-to-back overtimes. I had asked Julian to detour just two blocks to buy me my favorite hot oatmeal. He had frowned and refused.

He'd said, "Maeve, traffic is already awful here. Detouring means finding parking, it's just too much of a hassle. Stop being so needy. Next time, okay?"

As it turned out, he wasn't afraid of a hassle, nor was he incapable of taking care of someone. His meticulous patience and thoughtfulness had simply found a new recipient.

Watching Julian turn around and prepare to leave, I suddenly spoke up.

"Julian, can you not take Harper home?"

The air in the room suddenly went dead silent for a second.

"Maeve, the doctor said you're fine now. But Harper has been blaming herself this whole time. I have to make sure she gets home safely and calms down."

He sighed, talking to me like I was a difficult, unreasonable child.

"Besides, Harper is your best friend, isn't she? You always care about her so much—can't you show a little understanding right now?"

My chest gave a sharp, violent throb before the pain dissolved into a deadening numbness.

"You're right," I said. I closed my eyes and turned my back on them.

A single tear slid silently into my hairline.

My ten-year friendship, and my five-year relationship, had both come to an end today.