The clock ticked towards ten in Chloe's cozy apartment. Elara had just slid her feet into worn, comfortable slippers when Chloe burst from her bedroom, eyes wide with anticipation.
"Elly! How did it go?" Chloe breathed, grabbing her friend's arm. "Tell me everything—what did Julian say?"
"Chloe..." Elara met her friend's searching gaze, the name catching like a knot in her tightening throat. She looked away, focusing on a loose thread on the couch. "It's... it's over. There's no future for us. Not anymore."
Chloe's frown deepened, a protective anger flickering beneath the worry. "He broke up with you?" The image of Julian Thorne flashed in her mind—the effortless, glacial charm that never quite reached his eyes, the way his expensive watch gleamed like armour as he'd barely acknowledged her presence either time they'd met. He was polished marble: beautiful, cold, and radiating an ancient, unshakeable sense of superiority that seemed woven into his very being, like the silk of his bespoke suits. To Julian, she suspected, she wasn't even a person, just background noise in Elara's world—a friendship he observed, if he observed it at all, with an air of utter, bored detachment.
Rumours had it Julian was heir to the Thornes, Oakhaven's most powerful family. Of course a man like that would reject a 'tainted' girlfriend—especially one who'd been violated. His pride would always outweigh any love.
Elara shook her head, a bitter smile playing on her lips. "No. I'm ending it."
Chloe choked back the curses burning her tongue. "Elly, no!" she protested, her voice thick with disbelief. "None of this was your fault! If he could look past it, why would you throw this away—?"
"I haven't told him." The words cut sharply through Chloe's plea. Elara's voice was fraying, thin as worn thread. "But it's decided. Julian... he isn't to blame. Neither am I." She drew a shaky breath, her gaze hardening slightly. "This is Bianca's doing. And fate's cruelty."
Chloe's arms tightened instinctively around her friend, a fresh wave of worry crashing over her, but Elara just held on tighter, her voice muffled against Chloe's shoulder. "Thanks, Chloe. Really." She pulled back just enough to meet Chloe's eyes, her own shimmering with unshed tears. "Just... can we leave it for now? I can't— not yet." A faint, hollow smile touched her lips. "I'll explain everything... when I can."
"Okay," Chloe murmured, squeezing her tighter for a moment. "You don't owe me anything, Elly. Go run a hot bath. And try to sleep." She pulled back, offering a small, fierce smile. "We'll start fresh tomorrow. To hell with toxic men."
Elara managed a ghost of a laugh, feeling a tiny knot loosen in her chest.
Much later, showered with her hair still damp, Elara sat on the edge of her bed. Her phone screen glowed in the dim room, displaying Julian's missed calls. Under the warm lamplight, her eyes looked strangely dull, staring back at her from the dark reflection in the window. She took a long, steadying breath, her finger hovering for a second before the deliberate press of the dial button.
He answered on the second ring, his voice tight with strain. "Elly? Where are you? I've been calling for hours."
"I'm home. Just got out of the shower." Her voice was unnervingly calm as she leaned against her desk, a statue of composure.
"Christ, you scared me." Relief flooded his tone. "Listen, about tonight... don't read too much into Dad sending you home early, alright? Pure tedium, that meeting. He was just trying to spare you the corporate drone talk. No insult intended." His voice softened, trying to reassure her of a world she no longer inhabited. The mention of his father was a knife twist.
The demand.
"I know, Julian. It's fine." The words were flat, smooth stone dropped into water. His familiar, possessive warmth returned instantly. "That's my girl. Always so understanding. A low chuckle rumbled down the line. "Alex was practically green tonight. Kept saying how jealous he is, that I somehow landed the perfect girlfriend."
Understanding. The word soured in her mouth. It had become her gilded cage, locking away the wild-hearted girl her family once called "our little hurricane." Now, only this fragile shell of composure remained.
"Elly," Julian pressed on, oblivious, "we need this. Work's swallowed us whole. Let's get away next week. Just us. Wednesday's our anniversary—we'll make a proper trip of it, hmm?" His voice held the smooth confidence of a man accustomed to getting his way.
Elara blinked hard, the sudden sting of tears a betrayal. He doesn't know this is the end. "Julian... I just committed to a new tutoring schedule, and this script rewrite is brutal—"
"Tutoring? Again?" His voice sharpened, cutting her off. "Darling, if it's money, ask. I'm your partner. Let me take care of you. Why exhaust yourself for scraps? I could place you with half the board members' children by lunchtime if you'd just stop this... stubbornness." The condescension was a velvet glove over an iron fist.
"I'm sorry," she breathed, summoning the placating tone she'd perfected. "Wednesday night? We'll celebrate properly then. Five days... it's not so long." Five days to find the courage.
Julian relented, though his sigh crackled with irritation. "Fine. Wednesday." As the silence stretched before goodbye, he caught the thread. "Earlier... you said you had something important. What was it?"
The pause this time was a chasm. "Just... the tutoring job," she whispered, the lie brittle as glass. Everything. I had everything to tell you.
After the call, Julian stood rigid on the balcony, the ember of his cigarette a furious red eye in the dark. The familiar frustration boiled – her infuriating independence, her refusal to accept the apartment key he'd offered months ago, her baffling protectiveness of that viper Bianca. He took a harsh drag. Something was deeply off. Her voice... that unnatural calm. It wasn't understanding. It was distance. A cold dread, unfamiliar and unsettling, began to coil in his gut.
Elara curled into the cold sheets, memories washing over her—vivid flashes of freshman year, their first meeting, his persistent three-year courtship, every stolen kiss feeling like a stolen piece of her old life. These weren't just memories; they were the brightest sparks of her youth, now extinguished. Sleep, when it finally came, was thin and restless, offering no refuge.
She woke past ten. Sunlight streamed into the uncharacteristically silent apartment. Taped to her door, Chloe's familiar scrawl: Got tapped for a sudden biz trip to Oakhaven HQ! Back in a week. Try not to miss me TOO much (lie if you have to) P.S. Eat something that isn't cereal.
Elara sighed, the note a small comfort that quickly faded. Without Chloe's chaotic energy, the small space felt vast and echoing, too quiet. She spent the next two days buried in her script revisions and lesson planning, filling the silence with loud music. Not that Julian called—he was likely sulking over the postponed anniversary. But then, her phone buzzed with an unwelcome name: Robert Hayes.
"Elara, sweetheart," her uncle's voice oozed down the line, thick with manufactured concern. "Darling, it's time to come home. We've... discussed that terrible graduation party incident. Bianca and her mother are absolutely devastated by it all. They're desperate to apologise properly, face-to-face. Truly make amends." He paused, injecting false brightness. "And after everything settles... well, we think some distance is best. We're sending Bianca abroad."
Devastated? The word tasted like ash in Elara's mouth. She knew their performances too well—the crocodile tears, the rehearsed remorse. Robert's desperate charade of the "happy, unified family" had lost its last audience member. The curtain had fallen. She was done playing her part.
Sunday dawned bright. Elara had planned another solitary day buried in work when her phone rang, displaying a name that sparked a flicker of warmth: Vivian Grays, a friend and fellow graduate from their class.
"Morning, sunshine!" Vivian's familiar, bubbly voice burst through the line. "Tell me you're free today? It feels like ages! Guess what—I've finally moved out of that shoebox! You have to come see my new place. Lunch? My treat—I'll cook!"
A genuine smile finally touched Elara's lips – the first real one in days. Vivian. Here was someone refreshingly untouched by the Thornes-Hayes poison, a sanctuary of normalcy. Chloe had mentioned Vivian landed that marketing job at Aeternum Capital and was getting serious with her boyfriend. A new home… that meant things were solid, stable. It was the simple, happy life Elara ached for.
"Absolutely, Viv. Send the address," Elara replied, the weight in her chest lightening slightly.
Hope, fragile but warm, flickered within her. A connection to the world before everything fractured.