Aria woke up the next morning to sunlight filtering through her blinds and a knot still sitting stubbornly in her chest. The image from last night... Damian in that restaurant, the pretty lady leaning toward him with that perfect, glossy smile... had refused to fade, replaying like a slow echo.
She had later woken Mila up and tucked her in her bed before putting her half eaten tin of icecream and Mila's in the fridge. She had tossed and turned all night long, thinking about Damian.
She hated how it made her feel.
Jealousy wasn’t something she wore comfortably. It just wasn't...her.
She wasn’t his girlfriend. She kept reminding herself of that. They hadn’t defined anything. A kiss didn’t make a relationship… right?
They were adults. Not some middle schoolers that suddenly become a
