His Obsession, My Ruin

Walking Red Flags

Chapter 8

Melanie's POV

The mall was buzzing with weekend energy. Bright lights, clacking heels, and perfume clouds that hit before you saw the store. It should’ve been too loud to hear a thought.

I spotted Aria near the escalators. She was wearing an oversized hoodie that swallowed her figure and sunglasses far too big for indoors. Her usual red lipstick was gone, replaced by a washed-out pallor. Something in my chest tightened.

“Aria?” I called out as I walked toward her.

She didn’t answer right away, just tugged her hood lower and gestured for me to follow. No sass. No teasing. Just the same strange heaviness that had been in the text she sent asking me to meet her here.

We ended up in a tucked-away café on the second floor, half-empty except for a man with a laptop and two teens pretending to study.

Aria picked the booth in the corner, slid in like her body weighed twice as much as usual, and said nothing.

“Are you okay?” I asked as I sat across from her.

Rather than an answer, she took off her glasses.

Her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. Not the kind of red from a bad mascara day, but the kind that meant she’d been crying long enough to forget how to stop.

“Okay,” I said gently. “What happened?”

She exhaled like the words were poison and she’d been holding them in too long.

“Riley and I broke up,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“What? Why?” I asked, my voice dropping.

She looked at her fingers, rubbing her nail polish. “He said he couldn’t do it anymore, that he’d had enough.”

I blinked. “Why would he say something like that?”

She nodded, tears already slipping down again.

“Did something happen between you two?” I tried my best to ask softly.

She shook her head, but there was something unconvincing about the way she did it.

“Oh my gosh. Aria.” I slid into the seat beside her. “I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head violently, like that wasn’t what she needed. “I can’t believe I actually begged him to stay.”

Her voice broke fully then. A sob cracked through her throat like glass.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her onto my shoulder. She trembled against me, clinging like someone trying not to fall off a cliff.

I had to admit, I was stunned. Riley and Aria were one of the most enduring couples I’d ever seen. Yeah, they had fights, but they always figured it out. In a way, they were my proof that love existed, and now that proof had been crushed just like that.

“It’s okay,” I murmured, rubbing her back. “You’re gonna be okay. He’s the one who lost something.”

She pulled away after a moment, wiping at her cheeks with her sleeve. “He’s probably in some other girl’s pants. I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” I said quickly. “You trusted him. That’s not a flaw.”

Aria gave a hollow laugh. “No, Mels. That’s the flaw. Trusting men like they’re anything but walking red flags. Riley was supposed to be the safe one. The guy you settle with.”

I didn’t even know what to say to that.

She picked up her latte, hands still shaking. “They lie. They cheat. Even the good ones.”

I winced. “Hey, that’s not true. You’ll find someone else. Riley doesn’t get to represent all of them—”

“Come on,” she cut in, voice sharp and brittle. “You don’t think Idris has secrets? Please.”

I blinked at her.

Okay, that was unexpected.

“That’s not fair.”

She shrugged and looked out the window, eyes unfocused. “It’s not about fair. It’s about patterns. I should have seen it coming. Riley worked late. Just like Idris. Riley got secretive. Just like Idris. I overlooked it, and now look at me. New York’s biggest joke.”

I felt something twist inside me. A flicker of defensiveness. But also doubt. Aria was hurting, but her words had teeth.

“Idris isn’t like Riley,” I said carefully.

And he wasn’t.

He was different in so many ways.

Aria didn’t respond. She just took another sip of her drink, then wiped a smear of mascara off her cheek with the back of her hand.

That silence was louder than anything she could’ve said. And it echoed all the way down into my ribs.

By the time Aria finally stopped crying, she still wasn’t smiling, but she had managed to sit upright, her hands wrapped around the latte like it was keeping her from unraveling completely. Her sunglasses were back on, more armor than accessory now.

“I’m sorry I dumped that on you,” she muttered, voice hoarse.

“It’s fine. What are friends for?” I said.

“I just… hate that this is me now. Heartbroken.”

I was about to tell her she didn’t have to be strong right now, but the universe had other plans.

“Melanie?”

We both turned.

Charlotte stood just inside the café’s threshold. Designer bags dangled from one arm, gold-accented, expensive, understated in the way only expensive things tried to be. She wore a sleeveless white blouse tucked into high-waisted pants, not a wrinkle in sight. Her makeup was light and luminous.

Practically glowing.

She looked like a curated Pinterest board. A bit too much.

“Oh,” Charlotte said, smiling as she walked over. “I didn’t know you guys were here!”

Aria went completely still beside me. Rigid. Cold.

I could already tell this was going to be bad.

Charlotte’s eyes drifted toward her and landed on the oversized sunglasses, the barely concealed redness behind the lenses.

“Yikes, you look...” Her voice pitched slightly, concern wrapped in a bow. “Did something happen?”

It sounded so practiced that I wasn’t even sure if she meant it.

Aria didn’t bother answering. She didn’t even pretend. She did that when she didn’t like a person.

“I think you should go, Charlotte,” she said flatly.

Charlotte blinked. “What?”

“You’re not needed here,” Aria continued, each word clipped and sharp. “So if this is your usual pop-in to check whose life you’re accidentally winning at, congrats. Go away.”

Charlotte’s face remained composed, but I saw it: the briefest flicker of offense before she smoothed it back down.

“I wasn’t trying to intrude,” she said softly. “I just saw Melanie and thought I’d say hi. That’s all.”

I opened my mouth, not sure if I was going to thank her or defuse the situation, but Charlotte was already turning.

She glanced back once, eyes meeting mine. “Nice seeing you, Mel. And... feel better, Aria.”

And then she walked away, heels whispering against the tiled floor, shopping bags swaying gently at her side.

Aria let out a long, slow breath.

“That was a bit harsh,” I said.

“Good for her. She acts like you’re a princess and I’m a peasant. That b***h is an ass kisser,” she muttered.

I didn’t respond.

I’d never actually noticed Charlotte being overly nice to me, but I’d seen the way she treated people who weren’t in her “social class,” and honestly, it was distasteful, to say the least.

“If you ask me, she’s fake,” Aria muttered, voice low and mean. “The kind of girl who pops up when your boyfriend starts lying. Soft voice, expensive perfume, all that supportive energy. Then one day she’s a little too close to someone’s boyfriend, and everyone acts like you’re crazy for noticing.”

I tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow even to me. “I think Charlotte’s just... Charlotte.”

Aria’s gaze cut to mine. “You’re too nice, Mel. That’s your problem.”

“Well, I’m thankful Idris isn’t like that. She’s not his type.”

“Don’t be surprised if he’s not who you think he is,” she said, voice going quiet. “That’s how it starts. Subtle. Slippery. Like you’re always the one adjusting.”

Something about the way she said it made my stomach tighten.

I tried to shift the conversation back to her. “Is that how it felt with Riley?”

“Has he ever made you feel like you’re crazy?” Aria asked suddenly. “Or like something’s your fault, but he won’t say it out loud?”

My body went still.

Had that ever happened?

Aria nodded slowly, like that was confirmation. “That can be emotional manipulation, babe. And if it is, that’s not love.”

Her words felt like a hook, tugging at places I didn’t want touched.

I straightened. “That’s not Idris.”

But the protest lacked heat.

“Does he ever make you feel like you’re being paranoid?” she pushed. “Like you’re too much or not enough, but he never says it outright? Just lets you feel it?”

I looked away. “Now you’re just stating obvious red flags.”

“Well, it’s obvious when you realize you missed it. Imagine you find out that the Velvet Room is actually a brothel,” she said.

My jaw tightened. Did she have to use that against me when she knew how unsure it made me feel?

“Okay, Aria,” I said, a little firmer. “You’ve made your point. It’s enough.”

She pulled back, folding her arms. “I’m just trying to keep you from ending up like me.”

I nodded but didn’t speak.

Inside, I was unraveling.

I loved her, but if I let her go on and her words got into my head like they had at the club, I’d be setting my relationship on fire with my own hands.