LOGINI didn’t go home after leaving Aria’s place. Instead, I drove straight to the office.Martha was already there when I arrived. Of course she was. Her car was parked in its usual spot, perfectly aligned, as if she’d planned to stay late long before today demanded it.The sight of it tightened something in my chest, not fear, not hesitation but a quiet resolve that had been forming since the moment Aria told me administration wanted a statement. I wasn’t coming here to defend myself. I was coming here to end something. Her assistant looked surprised when I asked to see her without an appointment, but she didn’t argue. Five minutes later, I was standing in front of Martha’s office door, my hand hovering just inches away from knocking. I didn’t hesitate this time. “Come in,” Martha said, her voice sharp and composed, like she’d been expecting me. She was seated behind her desk, glasses perched low on her nose, reviewing something on her tablet. She didn’t look up right away. That a
I stared at her message longer than I should have.Join her meeting. Not just lunch. It's a formal meeting with her team.My fingers hovered over the screen, hesitation creeping in like a warning I could not fully explain. Part of me wanted to decline. To stay invisible. To let her deal with the fallout without my presence becoming another variable.But another part of me understood what this meant.She was choosing to place me somewhere that mattered.I replied after a few seconds.Me:Okay. I’ll be ready.The rest of the morning passed in a haze. I showered, dressed carefully, choosing something neutral. Nothing too bold. Nothing that would draw unnecessary attention. I tied my hair back, stared at my reflection longer than usual, and tried to remind myself that I had done nothing wrong.Still, the unease stayed.Aria arrived exactly at noon.I recognized her car immediately, my chest tightening as I stepped outside. She looked composed when I slid into the passenger seat, her postu
So instead of leaving, I stayed.Aria looked tense but she assured me that she’ll handle this. And although I was unsure, I chose to trust her.I don’t understand why Martha would do this. She knows better than this… she’s been known in the industry for how many years now and yet, she decided to risk her own talent for what?Does she really like Aria? Because at this point, that would only be the reason she’d do this to me.“Hey…”I looked at Aria who’s now sitting beside me, worried.“Hmm?” I said, still couldn’t settle my thoughts.“What are you thinking? We’ll talk about everything right?” her voice sounded unsure. And I get why. Being in this situation isn’t part of our plan. We just want to enjoy ourselves and yet our careers might be at risk. And in this case, it’s Aria’s.I nodded and sighed heavily. “I’m just thinking how could Martha go this far. And for what?”She bit her lower lip and reached for my hand softly.“I don’t know. But this is my fault,” she admitted.I looked a
I stayed.That choice settled into my body slowly, like warmth after standing too long in the cold. Aria’s arms were still around me, her heartbeat steady against my cheek, and for a moment I let myself believe that this was enough. Not answers. Not certainty. Just presence.We stood there longer than necessary, neither of us moving, as if motion might undo the fragile truce we had just built. Her fingers pressed gently into my back, not demanding, not possessive. Just there.Eventually, she loosened her hold, enough to look at me.“You’re quiet,” she said.“I’m thinking,” I replied.She nodded, like she expected that. Like she knew better than to rush me now.We moved to the couch without speaking. She sat first, leaving space beside her instead of pulling me down. I noticed that. Every small choice felt deliberate tonight, as if she was relearning how to be careful with me.I curled my legs beneath me and leaned back. The room was dim, lit only by the lamp in the corner and the sof
After eating, I busied myself with the dishes. The sound of running water filled the kitchen, steady and grounding, even as my thoughts drifted elsewhere. I scrubbed the same plate longer than necessary, staring at nothing in particular, pretending the clench in my chest wasn’t there. I felt her before I heard her. Her arms wrapped around my waist from behind—slow, careful, like she was testing whether I’d pull away. Her forehead rested between my shoulder blades, warm through the thin fabric of my shirt. “What are you thinking?” she asked softly, almost a whisper. “Nothing,” I replied automatically. It was a lie. And she knew it. She didn’t move. Didn’t loosen her hold. “Please,” she said quietly. “Let’s talk this out.” I turned off the faucet and stood still for a moment, hands gripping the edge of the counter. Her arms slipped away as I turned to face her, but she stayed close, her eyes searching mine like she was afraid I’d shut down again if she blinked. “Okay,”
Work didn’t distract me the way it usually did. It moved around me instead—voices, lights, instructions flowing past while my body followed routine on autopilot. I smiled when required, responded when spoken to, adjusted when asked. From the outside, I probably looked fine. Professional. Composed. Inside, everything felt slightly off-kilter, like I was standing on a floor that hadn’t fully settled yet. Martha didn’t bring the conversation back up. That, more than anything, kept me on edge. She moved through the day with deliberate normalcy—directing fittings, discussing schedules, offering critiques with her usual precision. But every so often, I caught her watching me. Not openly. Not enough to call out. Just long enough to remind me that nothing I’d said earlier had been forgotten. I wondered if she was waiting. For confirmation. For a slip. For something to use. The thought made my shoulders tense. By midday, my phone still hadn’t buzzed with Aria’s name. I told myself it







