GOLD, GLASS AND US

CHAPTER 4 - SUNDAY TRUTHS

(Chloe woke slowly, the kind of morning where nothing rushed her.

Sunlight slipped through the curtains in soft lines, warming her face. For the first time since everything happened, her body didn’t feel tense. The spa, the quiet, the time away—it had worked, at least a little.

She stretched, exhaling deeply.)

Chloe - Okay . . . I can do today.

* * * * *

(By late morning, she stood in front of her mirror, fully dressed—composed again, but lighter this time.

She wore a soft ivory blouse tucked neatly into high-waisted tailored trousers the color of warm caramel. The fabric moved effortlessly when she walked, elegant without trying too hard. A thin gold chain rested against her collarbone, simple but intentional. Her heels were nude, sharp, and clean, adding just enough height to command a room without shouting for attention.

Her hair fell in soft curls, framing her face naturally, and her makeup was minimal—glowing skin, a hint of gloss, just enough to feel like herself.

Chloe looked at her reflection for a moment.

Then she grabbed her bag and headed out.)

* * * * *

(Zara was already seated when Chloe arrived, waving the moment she spotted her.)

Zara - Look at you, (eyes lighting up.) You look like a million bucks

Chloe - (laughed lightly.) I am a million bucks.

A billion even (she added with a slight chuckle)

Zara - Please, (she rolled her eyes.)

Sit down.

(As soon as Chloe settled, Zara leaned forward slightly, her expression softening.)

Zara - How are you? Like . . . really.

(Chloe hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then she nodded.)

Chloe - I’m okay. Better.

(Zara studied her face carefully.)

Zara - Did you tell your mum about what happened?

(A pause.)

Chloe - Yeah. (she said, keeping her tone steady.) I did.

(Zara’s shoulders relaxed instantly.)

Zara - Good. I’m proud of you. Hope she isn’t mad

Chloe - Nah . . . she’s chill. (Chloe looked away slightly)

(Chloe smiled faintly, ignoring the small twist in her chest. To move past it, she added;

Chloe - You should come for dinner tonight. Sunday dinner. Mum would love to see you.

(Zara’s face lit up again.)

Zara - Wait—really? I haven’t seen her in forever.

Chloe - Exactly, so come.

Zara - I’m there. (Zara grinned.) No question.

* * * * *

(Back in her car, Chloe sat for a moment before pulling out her phone.

She called Dylan.

He picked up almost immediately.)

Dylan - Well, if it isn’t my favorite CEO.

(Chloe smiled despite herself.) “Hi.”

Dylan - What’s up?

Chloe - Just checking—you’re still coming for dinner tonight, right?

Dylan - Of course I am. I never miss free food.

Chloe - (She rolled her eyes.) It’s not free, it’s family.

Dylan - Same thing.(He teased.)

Chloe - (Shook her head, then added,) Zara’s coming too.

(There was a brief pause—then,)

Dylan - Zara? As in Zara Zara?

Chloe - Yes, Dylan, (she laughed.) How many Zaras do you know?

Dylan - I haven’t seen her since your birthday dinner last year, (he said.) That’s actually great.

Chloe - You sound excited.

Dylan - I am. I like Zara.

(The conversation flowed easily after that—light, normal, familiar.

But at one point, there was a small pause.

Dylan’s tone shifted just slightly.)

Dylan - You good, though? Like . . . today?

Chloe - I’m okay. (She said softly.)

(He hesitated, like he wanted to say more. Then he exhaled lightly.) “Good.”

Chloe - See you tonight?

Dylan - Wouldn’t miss it.

(The call ended quietly.)

* * * * *

(At home, Chloe found her mum already in the kitchen.)

Mrs. Anderson glanced up with a smile. “Perfect timing. Come and help me.”

(Chloe slipped off her heels and joined her, tying an apron around her waist.

Despite everything they had, Sundays were always like this.

No staff.

No shortcuts.

Just the two of them cooking, talking, existing.)

Mrs. Anderson - Pass me the seasoning.

(Chloe handed it over, moving comfortably around the kitchen.)

Mrs. Anderson - You know . . . one day, you’ll have to do this on your own.

Chloe - (Smirked.) Bold of you to assume I won’t hire someone.

(Her mum gave her a look. “And lose tradition? Never.”

Chloe laughed softly.

For a moment, everything felt . . . normal.)

* * * * *

(Later that evening, the sound of a car pulling up echoed outside.

Dylan stepped out first, glancing around before his eyes landed on the sleek car parked beside him.

He paused.)

Dylan - Okay . . . whose is that?

Zara - (Stepping out from the driver’s side, grinning.) Mine.

Dylan blinked. “No way.”

(The car gleamed under the soft evening light—deep midnight blue, with smooth, curved edges and a polished finish that practically reflected the world around it. The interior, visible through the glass, was lined with cream leather, pristine and luxurious without being loud.)

Dylan - Since when?

Zara - Last month. (she said casually.)

Dylan - And you just didn’t think to tell me?

Zara - I like surprising people.

(He laughed)

Dylan - I rate it. It’s clean.

Zara - Thank you. (She said with a small bow.)

(He gestured toward his own car.)

Dylan - Still love my Porsche though

Zara - Of course you do. (Zara teased.)

You’d cry if anything happened to it.

Dylan - You’re not wrong.

(They both laughed before heading to the door.

Chloe opened it before they could knock.)

Chloe - Hey! (She smiled.)

(Zara hugged her immediately. “Hi.”)

(Chloe and Dylan shared a warm hug before going towards the dinning area)

. . .

(Dinner started warmly.

Laughter, conversation, the familiar rhythm of people who knew each other well.

Mrs. Anderson welcomed Zara like family. Dylan slipped easily into his usual place, joking, teasing, keeping things light.

For a while, it was perfect.

Until—)

Zara - Oh my God, I still can’t believe what that man tried to do to you. (Zara suddenly said, mid-conversation.)

(Silence.

Heavy.

Immediate.

Chloe’s heart dropped.

Dylan’s head turned slightly toward Mrs. Anderson—and in that split second, he saw it.

Confusion.

She didn’t know.

He jumped in quickly, voice casual but tight.)

Dylan - Zara—

(But it was too late.

Mrs. Anderson’s expression changed.)

Mrs. Anderson - Chloe? (She said slowly.)

(Chloe stood up, her chair scraping softly against the floor. “Excuse me.”

She walked out calmly, but her chest was tight, her breath uneven.

Upstairs, she barely made it to her room before her emotions caught up with her.

A knock followed soon after.)

Mrs. Anderson - Chloe?

Chloe - Come in.

(Mrs. Anderson entered, her face filled with concern.)

Mrs. Anderson - Why didn’t you tell me? (She asked gently.)

Chloe looked down. “I didn’t know how.”

(Her mum sat beside her.)

Mrs. Anderson - I’m so sorry. I should have seen something was wrong.

Chloe - It’s not your fault. (She said quickly.)

Mrs. Anderson - It is, in a way, (she replied softly.) I pushed you toward someone you didn’t even like.)

Chloe - I should have told you. (Her eyes stung)

Mrs. Anderson - Yes. (She said, not harshly, just honestly.) You should have. No matter what.

(She reached for Chloe’s hands.)

We may have everything, but that doesn’t mean we stop being there for each other. You’re still my daughter before anything else.

Chloe - I’m sorry (Her voice broke slightly)

Mrs. Anderson - (Pulling her into a tight embrace.) I love you.

Chloe - (Holding onto her) I love you too Mum

(And for the first time, she truly felt it—

Safe.)

* * * * *

(Back downstairs, Zara paced slightly while Dylan leaned against the table.)

Dylan - You weren’t supposed to say it like that.

(He murmured.)

Zara - I thought she knew (She whispered back, panicking.) She said she told her!

(Before he could respond, Chloe and her mum walked back in.)

Zara rushed forward immediately. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. I didn’t mean to—”

Chloe - It’s okay, (She said gently.) You didn’t know.

(Zara exhaled in relief.)

. . .

(Dinner ended not long after.

At the door, Zara hugged Chloe tightly before leaving.

Then it was just her and Dylan.

They stood there for a moment, the night quiet around them.

Dylan - You okay? (He asked softly.)

Chloe - Yeah. (She nodded)

(A small smile.)

Dylan - Always and forever? (He said, holding out his fist.)

(Chloe bumped it lightly.)

Chloe - Always and forever.

(He smiled, then turned and walked away.)

* * * * *

(That night, Chloe lay in bed, her room quiet, her mind calm.

Everything that had been heavy felt . . . lighter.

Not gone.

But shared.

And as she closed her eyes, one thought stayed with her—

She wasn’t alone.

Not anymore.)

* * * * *