Chapter Eight: The Lunch That Changes Everything
1113 Words
Ariana Cole POV
By the time I arrived at the restaurant, I already knew I had made a mistake. Not because I didn't want to see Chloe, because I did. That was the problem.
For years, Chloe had been one of the most important people in my life. She was the friend who showed up with ice cream after breakups. The friend who answered phone calls at three in the morning. The friend who somehow knew exactly what to say when the world felt impossible. And now I was carrying a secret that could destroy her.
I stood outside the restaurant for several seconds before finally forcing myself through the doors.
The hostess immediately smiled. "Miss Cole? Your party is already here."
Of course she was, Chloe was never late. I followed the hostess toward a private corner booth.
The moment Chloe saw me, her face lit up. "There you are!"
Before I could react, she jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around me. The hug nearly broke me. Because it felt normal. Because she trusted me. Because she had absolutely no idea what I'd done.
I hugged her back anyway. "Hi."
She pulled away and immediately grabbed my hand. "You look exhausted."
I laughed weakly. "Thanks."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"I know."
We settled into our seats, the waitress brought menus, Neither of us looked at them, Chloe was practically glowing, Her excitement filled the table, And with every passing second, the knot in my stomach tightened.
"You have no idea how much I need this lunch."
I forced a smile, "Wedding stress?"
"Wedding stress. Moving stress. Family stress."
I raised an eyebrow. "Moving stress?"
Her face brightened instantly. "Oh my God. I forgot I haven't told you everything."
My heart sank, I already knew, but she didn't know that.
She leaned forward excitedly. "I'm officially moving into Damian's penthouse next month."
The words landed like a punch, I managed to keep my expression neutral, Barely.
"Wow."
"I know."
She laughed, "I'm ridiculously excited."
I reached for my water. Mostly because my hands needed something to do.
"That sounds serious."
"It is serious."
For a moment, her smile softened. "I think we're finally moving forward."
Something about the way she said it made me pause, move forward, not happy, not in love, moving forward. There was a difference, and suddenly I wasn't sure I'd ever noticed it before.
The waitress returned. We ordered lunch. The moment she left, Chloe's excitement seemed to dim slightly. The change was subtle. But I saw it. Years of friendship made certain things impossible to miss.
"What's wrong?"
She blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You're doing that thing."
"What thing?"
"The thing where you pretend everything is fine."
She laughed. But it sounded forced. I knew that laugh. I hated that laugh. Because it usually meant she was hurting.
For a long moment, she stared out the window.
Then she sighed. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course." She hesitated.
And suddenly she looked vulnerable. Smaller somehow. "I need you to be honest."
A cold feeling settled in my chest. "Okay."
She looked directly at me. "Do you think Damian loves me?"
The question stole the air from my lungs. I froze. Completely. My brain scrambled for an answer. Any answer. The truth was impossible. The lie felt cruel. Chloe noticed my hesitation immediately. And somehow that seemed to tell her everything.
A sad smile touched her lips. "Yeah."
My chest tightened. "Chloe—"
"It's okay."
No. It wasn't okay. Not even close.
She looked down at her hands. "When we first got engaged, I thought things would get better." I remained silent. She needed to talk. I could feel it. "He treats me well." Her voice was quiet now. "He respects me."
I nodded. Because that part was true. Damian had never struck me as cruel, or careless. If anything, he seemed trapped. Just like I was.
"But sometimes..." she continued softly, "I feel like I'm the only one trying."
The confession broke something inside me, I stared at her, this wasn't the Chloe everyone else saw, this wasn't the confident socialite. The future Mrs. Vale. This was just a woman. A woman who wanted to be loved. A woman who wasn't sure she was.
"He forgets important dates." Her laugh sounded hollow. "He cancels dinners."
She looked away. "And sometimes I think he only says yes because it's easier than arguing."
I swallowed hard. The guilt was becoming unbearable. Because every fear she had… Every insecurity… Every doubt… Was probably true. And somehow that made everything worse.
"I keep telling myself he'll change." She smiled sadly. "That one day he'll look at me the way people in love are supposed to."
I couldn't breathe. Not properly. Not after hearing that.
The worst part was knowing exactly how Damian looked at someone he couldn't stop thinking about. Because I'd seen it. I felt it. And Chloe never had. The realization made me sick. Lunch arrived.
Neither of us touched it.
For a while, we talked about safer things.
Wedding venues. Flowers. Family drama.
Anything except the truth sitting between us.
By the time we finished, I felt emotionally exhausted. Outside the restaurant, Chloe hugged me again. "Thanks for listening."
I smiled. Or at least I tried to. "Always."
She pulled away. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
The words followed me long after she disappeared into her waiting car. Because neither did I. And I wasn't sure how much longer I deserved to be her friend.
Back at the hotel, all I wanted was silence. I kicked off my shoes. Dropped my purse onto the chair. And collapsed onto the edge of the bed. The room felt strangely empty. My mind wouldn't stop replaying Chloe's words.
Do you think Damian loves me? I buried my face in my hands. A sharp vibration interrupted my thoughts. My phone. I reached for it automatically.
Then I froze. Damian. His name glowed across the screen. My pulse immediately quickened. I stared at it. One ring. Two rings. Three. Part of me wanted to ignore it. The other part already knew I wouldn't.
Slowly, I answered. "Hello?"
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then his voice came through the line.
Low. Different.
"Ariana."
Something in my chest tightened. "What's wrong?"
Another pause. When he finally spoke again, every word sounded deliberate. Like he'd spent hours making this decision. "I ended it."
The room spun. My grip tightened around the phone. "What?"
His next words shattered whatever remained of my fragile control. "I called off the engagement."
And suddenly, nothing felt simple anymore.
- Writer
