The Red Light I Couldn’t See, The Love That Was Never There Chapter 01
The day I was diagnosed with temporary color blindness, my boyfriend, Ethan Cole, and my best friend, Lily Carter, each took one of my hands.
“Don’t worry. From now on, we’ll help you cross at every traffic light.”
After that, they kept me wedged between them wherever we went.
Until one day, I crouched down to tie my shoe.
When I looked up again, they were already standing on the crosswalk across the street, smiling as if nothing was wrong.
“Sophie, you need to learn to cross the street on your own. You can’t rely on us forever.”
Ethan nodded. “Grow up a little. You can’t keep relying on other people.”
I froze in place, staring at the traffic light whose colors I couldn’t tell apart. My palms were slick with sweat.
“What are you waiting for? Come on! The light’s about to change!”
Lily shouted at me.
I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and ran toward the other side.
Suddenly, brakes screamed beside me, and the front bumper stopped inches from my knees.
“Are you fucking blind? Why would you run into a red light?”
The driver rolled down his window and started cursing.
I hit the pavement. The skin on my knee had been scraped raw, and beads of blood slowly welled up.
Lily doubled over laughing, tears spilling from her eyes.
“She’s such an idiot. She’s still the same as she was when we were kids. She can’t tell when we’re telling the truth and when we’re messing with her.”
Ethan looked down at me and shook his head in exasperation.
“Great. We’ll never get rid of her now.”
That’s when I realized that, to them, I was nothing but a burden.
They didn’t need to drive me away. I could leave on my own.
…
The beads of blood on my knee had already dried into dark red scabs.
I pushed myself up, the scraped palm stinging against the pavement.
Lily was still laughing across the street.
She didn’t panic until she saw me turn and walk the other way.
“Sophie! Where are you going?”
“We were supposed to get fondue together. The restaurant’s that way!”
I didn’t look back.
The traffic light changed above me, but I couldn’t tell which color it was.
I crossed during a brief break in traffic, relying only on the cars coming to a stop.
Suddenly, footsteps hurried up behind me, and a hand clamped around my wrist.
“Sophie, you’re going the wrong way.”
Ethan frowned.
“I’m not going.”
“What are you throwing a fit about now?”
Lily caught up behind me, looped her arm through Ethan’s, and tried to smooth things over.
“Come on, if she doesn’t want to go, don’t force her. Let’s just go.”
Ethan hesitated for a second, then released my wrist.
“Fine. Go home for now. We’ll talk tonight.”
I stood there, watching the two of them walk away side by side and disappear into the crowd.
My knee throbbed in waves.
When I got home, I collapsed onto the couch and pulled out my phone.
The first post in my feed was from Lily.
One picture showed a close-up of bubbling red broth. The other showed the person sitting across from her.
Only half of Ethan’s face was visible as he leaned over the pot, dipping meat into the broth with his sleeves rolled to his elbows.
Lily’s caption read, “Same table, same partner as always.”
Our mutual friends left comments underneath.
“Another date?”
“You two might as well get together already.”
Lily replied with a shy emoji and didn’t deny it.
I stared at the picture.
Suddenly, I remembered how people had always mistaken them for a couple whenever the three of us went out.
At restaurants, servers would hand Lily the menu and tell Ethan, “Let your girlfriend order.”
At the movies, the ticket clerk glanced at them and said, “Couples’ seats, center of the third row.”
Even when we went home for the holidays, the older woman next door would take Lily’s hand and ask,
“When are we getting wedding invitations for you and Ethan?”
Every time, Lily would cover her mouth and giggle while Ethan carried her bag beside her.
I was nothing but extra baggage.
I locked my phone and set it facedown on the couch.
It was fully dark by the time Ethan came home.
The lock clicked.
He changed into slippers and walked into the living room, bringing the smell of the fondue restaurant with him.
When he saw me curled up on the couch, he paused, then smiled.
“Still mad?”
He came over and bent down close to me.
“All I did this morning was make you cross one street by yourself. Was that really worth ruining your whole day over?”
I turned away from him and met his eyes.
“Was messing with me really that much fun?”
Ethan’s body went rigid.
In the two months since I was diagnosed with temporary color blindness, this kind of prank had happened more than once.
Last month, they cooked a plate of shredded ginger and told me it was shredded potatoes.
I took a huge bite and ended up bent over the table, gulping water as my mouth caught fire.
Lily and Ethan doubled over laughing across the table from me.
“She actually ate it! Hahahaha!”
“Sophie, you’re way too easy to fool!”
I coughed for half an hour, my throat raw from the heat.
Three days earlier, an overseas client I’d been working with for six months had finally been ready to sign a contract.
Before I left, I specifically asked Lily to help me pick out an outfit and told her the client had a thing against green.
Lily patted her chest confidently and handed me a dress.
“Relax. It’s dark gray, classy, and professional. Wear this.”
Ethan glanced at it and nodded.
“Looks good. Very formal.”
But when I arrived at the office wearing the outfit they had chosen,
the client stood up and said they were no longer interested before even looking through my proposal.
Only later did I learn that I had been wearing green from head to toe.
The project I’d spent six months on, a four-million-dollar deal, was gone just like that.
That night, I crouched on the bathroom floor and cried until morning.
Lily sent me a voice message, her tone light and careless.
“Oh, Sophie, I must’ve read the color wrong that morning. I hadn’t slept well. I’m sorry!”
“Don’t be sad. You’ll have another chance next time.”
When Ethan found out, he said, “We didn’t do it on purpose. Don’t be so petty.”
I believed him.
Every time, they managed to soothe me into forgiving them.
Coming back to the present, Ethan straightened.
With his hands in his pockets, he looked down at me.
“Sophie, when are you going to grow up?” “We’re only trying to make you independent. Is that really wrong?”
His voice held a thread of anger, along with that familiar, dismissive exasperation.
As if everything I did was just me being dramatic.
I clenched my hands, with nowhere to put all the hurt.
“But I…”
“Enough. I’m tired. I’m going to take a shower.”
Ethan acted like he couldn’t be bothered to argue and disappeared into the bathroom.
I stood there in a daze. It wasn’t until the water started running that I curled my lips into a bitter smile.
“Okay.”
