Chapter 375: Friends
ARIA
For a long moment after Andrew left, Ash and I just stared at the door like maybe he’d come back and explain what the hell had just happened. My heart hadn’t quite decided whether to slow down or sprint. There was something about that man—his calmness, his composure, the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes—that reminded me of Ewan Roman, that same quiet brand of danger that made you instinctively want to stand straighter.
Ash let out a low breath. "That was... unsettling."
"Unsettling is an understatement," I muttered, running a hand over my face. "Why do I feel like something’s about to blow up again?"
She didn’t laugh. She just looked at me, mouth tightening like she was holding words between her teeth.
"What?" I asked. "You have that look."
Ash hesitated. Her fingers brushed over the edge of the desk. "It’s about someone close to you," she said finally.
Someone close to me. My stomach tightened. "Who—?"
Before she could finish, the door opened.
Sarah walked in, all brightness and perfume, her voice a little too cheerful for how thick the air felt. "I think I just walked past someone who looks exactly like Kael," she said, laughing. "Nearly said hi before realizing he wasn’t him. I just couldn’t help sneaking out to see you—"
She stopped when her eyes landed on Ash. The smile stayed, but something cold slipped behind it. "Oh," she said lightly, "am I interrupting?"
Ash straightened, her tone too quick. "No. Actually, I was just leaving."
"Wait," I said, confused. "Ash, what were you saying? About someone close to me?"
Ash gave a small shake of her head. "It’s nothing. We’ll talk later." Her eyes flicked briefly toward Sarah—sharp, wary—before she slipped out the door.
Sarah’s gaze followed her until the door clicked shut, then lingered there a beat too long before she turned back to me, her tone soft and curious. "What was that about?"
"I’m not sure," I said. "Maybe it’s because the man you saw before you came in—he was Kael’s brother. Andrew. And he’s... he’s a lot like their father. It’s unnerving."
Her lips curved in that almost-smile that never reached her eyes. "Oh," she murmured. "Well, that’s interesting."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing," she said quickly, waving a hand. "Forget I said anything. So what was Ash doing here, anyway?"
"She just came to say hi," I said, still trying to shake the weirdness off. "She saw me around and wanted to check in."
Sarah tilted her head, her expression all sweetness but her tone carrying something sharper underneath. "You two seem close these days. Closer than you and I."
I blinked. "It’s not like that. She’s just been—supportive."
Her voice softened. "Supportive about what?"
The question caught me off guard. My breath hitched before I could mask it, and I tried to laugh it off. "Nothing serious. Just... you know, life."
Her eyes lingered on me, a little too still, a little too quiet. "You’re not keeping anything from me, are you?"
"No," I said quickly. "Of course not."
The silence that followed felt... off. Not hostile, exactly, but heavy, like something invisible had shifted between us.
Then she sighed, smiled again, and brushed her hair behind her ear like she was sweeping the moment away. "I’m sorry," she said softly. "I didn’t mean to sound crazy. I guess I’ve just been feeling a little left out." She paused and then...
"Ash gets to see you all the time, she knows things, and I don’t. Even when you were in Spain, I couldn’t reach you, but she could, right?"
Guilt pricked at me, because she wasn’t wrong. "Sarah, it’s not—"
"It’s okay." She laughed, though it sounded a little too light. "It’s all Kael’s fault anyway. Things changed when he came along."
I blinked. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing," she said, too quickly. "Never mind that." Then she straightened, the brightness slipping neatly back into place. "Actually, I was going to ask—there’s this new restaurant I saw on TikTok, not far from the office. We should go during lunch break. They have those ridiculously fancy drinks with the smoke coming out of them."
Her sudden shift almost gave me whiplash. "Lunch? Sure," I said slowly. "In a few hours?"
Her smile sharpened. "Actually, I was thinking we should go now."
"Now?"
"Yes, now. You’ve barely been back a day, and honestly, you need a break. I’ll drive."
"What about your work?" I asked. "Won’t HR say something?"
She leaned closer across the desk, her voice dropping, teasing but edged. "Oh, Aria. I have freedom now too, you know. Just like you."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I have a man of power under my thumb."
It took me a second. "You’re kidding."
Her lips curved. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"
"Who?" I asked before I could stop myself.
Sarah smiled wider, eyes glinting with something that made my chest feel tight. "It’s a secret," she said softly. "For now."
I hesitated, still not sure. "Maybe we should wait until lunch break," I said. "I just got back... people might talk if I disappear again."
Sarah’s smile faltered. "So what?" she asked softly. "They already talk."
"It’s not that," I said quickly. "I just—"
Her expression changed, something small tightening around her eyes. When she spoke again her voice was quiet, almost tremulous. "Do I still matter to you?"
The question hit me so suddenly I could only blink. "What? Of course you do—why would you even—"
She let out a shaky breath, looking down at her hands. "Because sometimes it doesn’t feel like it anymore," she murmured. "We used to do everything together and You used to tell me everything, Aria. You used to call, to text. Now it’s like I don’t exist unless I chase after you. It’s like I don’t even matter to you and other people get to have more access to you than I ever will in a lifetime."
"Sarah..."
"I don’t even know if it’s just me," she went on, voice trembling now, "but it feels like our friendship is crumbling apart."
I froze, dumbfounded. "It’s nothing like that. I swear it’s not—"
She shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes. "Then why does it feel like I have to compete for you? Like you’re so far away, like you’re somewhere I can’t reach? It’s so unfair Aria" Her voice cracked. "You’ve been the only constant thing in my life. I just—" She stopped, swallowing hard, wiping at her cheek with the back of her hand. "Forget it. It doesn’t matter."
"Sarah, wait." I stood before she could walk away and caught her arm. "I didn’t know I made you feel that way. I’m sorry."
Her eyes glistened as she looked at me, and then she folded herself against my shoulder, trembling. "I just feel like I’m losing my best friend," she whispered. "And I can’t stand it. I really hate it so much Aria. Even when you’re here. I still miss you so much."
I held her tighter, guilt creeping through my ribs until it ached. "You’re not losing me," I said quietly. "I promise..."
---
By the time we made it to the restaurant, the air between us felt lighter on the surface but strange underneath, like a wound half-bandaged. Sarah was trying a flaky meat pastry, lamb and spices, the kind that left crumbs everywhere, while I sat across from her, still wiping the last of her tears.
She looked fine again, laughing softly at the food, humming along to the music drifting through the café. But my mind kept circling back to what she’d said. You used to tell me everything.
She wasn’t wrong. She had been there long before Kael, through every heartbreak, every failure. And lately I’d built a wall between us without even realizing it. Maybe she deserved to know why. Maybe she needed to understand what had changed.
"Sarah," I said finally.
She paused mid-bite, eyes lifting to mine. "Mm?"
"There’s something I need to tell you." My throat tightened, heart pounding violently in my ribs.
Her expression softened instantly, careful and patient. "What is it?"
I hesitated, the words trembling at the edge of my mouth. But then they broke free, low and shaking. "About two months ago... uhm... I... Uhm... I was..."
I exhaled deeply, willing myself to say it out loud.
"Sarah. I was pregnant... with Kael’s child."
Her fork clattered softly against the plate, mouth hanging in disbelief."You—what?"
"But" I continued, feeling my heart break into a million places again.
"I lost it..." I said finally, the words dragging through me. "I lost the baby."
The sound of the café faded, only the rain tapping the windows, the hum of air between us, the tightness in my chest as I stared down at my untouched food. Tears blurred the tablecloth, and I tried to laugh but it came out as a gasp. "I haven’t said it out loud since it happened to anyone," I whispered.