When Friendship Marries Love

Five Years Ago

David

—She wasn’t part of the plan. But somehow, Laura Mitchell became my way out. And maybe—my only shot at love that didn’t end in a funeral.—

The sky was overcast that day, as if it too was mourning something. I stood at Scarlet’s gravesite, the familiar ache in my chest tightening as I traced her name etched into the cold stone. I wasn’t alone in the cemetery—Laura was there too, a few rows down, crouched by another grave. I didn’t know much about her then, except that she’d recently lost her brother, and her grief looked as raw as mine.

Laura and I weren’t strangers. We had Daniel in common, and through him, I’d come to see her as someone sharp, witty, and oddly grounded for a woman juggling more chaos than most people could imagine. That day, as she knelt in front of her brother’s grave, she looked fragile. I thought, maybe, I wasn’t the only one in need of something—or someone—to steady me.

Daniel’s words echoed in my head: “You and Laura? You’d be good together. You both need a win for once.” I wasn’t sure about a “win,” but I needed a way out of my father’s schemes, and Skylar—his handpicked future daughter-in-law—wasn’t it. The idea of marrying someone who once bullied Scarlet was unbearable.

I hesitated as I approached her, my steps slow and uncertain. She was crouched by her brother’s grave, her shoulders trembling just slightly. I knew grief when I saw it—it was etched into her every movement, a shadow she couldn’t shake. My heart was pounding, not just from nerves but from the sheer absurdity of what I was about to do.

I cleared my throat softly, and she glanced up, her tear-streaked face catching the overcast light. For a moment, I forgot what I wanted to say. She looked so fragile yet so unshakably present, and I wondered if I should turn around and leave her alone.

But then, a reckless courage took hold of me.

“Laura, would you… would you be my girlfriend?” I blurted, my voice louder than it should have been.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and I immediately wanted to kick myself. “I’m sorry it came out like that. I’ll restart. Laura, would you… consider just spending time together? As friends, or… whatever we need to be. Just not alone.”

Her small, sad smile warmed a little, like a flicker of light in the midst of her pain. She nodded. “I’d like that, David. I really would.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and nodded back. “Good. Me too.”

And just like that, an unspoken agreement passed between us. We didn’t need to define it, not yet. It wasn’t about romance or passion or even love. It was about not facing the world alone—and somehow, that was enough to start.

On our next date, I decided to make my intentions clear with her.

“I know you’re… going through something. With your brother, I mean. And I just thought—” I paused, feeling like an i***t. “Maybe we could help each other out.”

Her brow furrowed, her tears momentarily forgotten. “Help each other out?”

I took a deep breath. “Look, I’m supposed to marry someone I don’t like. You’re alone in all this grief. I thought, maybe we could… date. See where it goes.”

I waited for her to laugh in my face or tell me to shove it. Instead, she just tilted her head, studying me like I was a particularly interesting puzzle.

“Sure,” she said finally, wiping her cheeks. “Why not?”

Our dates were surprisingly fun, though I still wasn’t sure what I was doing most of the time. Laura had this way of making things light, even when the mood should’ve been awkward. One time, we were at this fancy restaurant my father liked to frequent. The waiter, stiff and overly professional, asked what wine we’d like.

Before I could answer, Laura grinned and said, “Anything with alcohol, really. We’re not picky, just thirsty.”

The waiter’s face was priceless—his stiff professionalism cracked into full-blown confusion. I tried to stifle my laugh, but it came out as a snort instead. Laura looked at me, pretending to be horrified. “Oh no, did I just ruin your rich-guy reputation? Quick, order the most expensive bottle to fix it.”

By the time the waiter returned, we were both laughing so hard that we didn’t even notice the stares from the other tables.

The penthouse moment, though—that was the real turning point. Laura had started stopping by after her shifts, bringing leftovers or complaining about her day. That day, I’d been rushing to tidy up before she arrived, trying to hide the evidence of my disorganized life.

When she came in, she caught me trying to shove a stack of files into the wrong drawer. Except the drawer wouldn’t close, and I ended up knocking over a glass of water onto the floor—and onto myself.

Laura froze for a second before bursting into laughter. “David Thompson, FBI extraordinaire, taken down by a filing cabinet.”

I glared at her, water dripping off my shirt. “Glad you’re entertained.”

She smirked, grabbing a dish towel. “Oh, I am. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone your secret. Though, for a lawyer, your organizational skills are… questionable.”

She knelt to clean up the spill, her movements quick and efficient, and I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. “Yeah, well, I’ll just sue the cabinet later.”

She paused, looking up at me with a grin. “You’d lose. Cabinets are very well-represented.”

I reached down to help her stand, but somehow, we ended up too close. Her face was inches from mine, and before I could second-guess it, I leaned in and kissed her.

The next day, I was back at Scarlet’s grave.

“I kissed her,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “And I don’t know what I’m doing. I miss you, Scarlet. I miss you so much it feels like I can’t breathe sometimes. But I don’t have a choice anymore.”

I knelt, brushing my fingers against the cold stone. “If I don’t marry, I’ll lose everything. And if I marry Skylar…” I swallowed hard. “I can’t do that. But Laura? She’s different. She’s kind. She deserves to be treated right. And I’ll make sure she is. But you…” I paused, my voice shaking. “You’ll always have my heart.”

I kissed the edge of the stone, letting the coolness ground me before standing up. “Don’t feel guilty about this. You’ll always be my Scarlet.”

And with that, I walked away, leaving behind the ghost of my first love and the promise of a new beginning.