Amanda only knows Faye went abroad for treatment. That’s what her high school classmates told her. Amanda never asked for more details. Actually, they weren’t sure why either, only heard something treatment overseas. Faye was tight-lipped about it. It felt like crossing a line that didn’t belong to her. And maybe, deep down, Amanda was afraid the truth would make her feel things she wasn’t ready to feel.
But still—whatever the real reason was, Amanda had felt sorry for her. Whether Faye was truly sick or not, whether the illness was serious or something else was going on, Amanda believed one thing for sure: leaving the country wasn’t easy for someone like Faye.
Faye's family had deep roots here. They had power, money, and connections. Her last name carried weight. If she chose to walk away from all that, she must have had a strong reason. Amanda believed that. Faye had built a life here. She had friends, a
A few minutes later, the door opens, and Grace walks in. She’s in a long beige coat, wind tugging at the hem as she slips inside. Her eyes scan the room fast—sharp, searching. “Huh, The Snug. Nice choice.” Then she stares at Amanda and heads straight over.“You really are hiding out,” Grace says as she slides onto the stool next to her. She leans one elbow on the bar and shrugs off her coat. Amanda lets out a breath through her nose, faint like a laugh. “I needed some air. And vodka.”“Henry’s been asking about you,” Grace says, reaching for the small bowl of cookies on the bar, tossing one into her mouth. “I told him I had no idea. Gave him the whole wide-eyed clueless act.” Amanda smiles a little. “Thanks. I really didn’t want to deal with him.”“You two talked like, what, twice?” Amanda tilts her glass again, watches the vodka swirl. “Yeah. It was never real. I flirted with him just to piss off Fiona. Stupid, huh?” Grace raises her brows. “It’s understandable. I just didn’t know Fi
Amanda tilts her head, amused. “What, already?”“Yup,” Grace says, turning to face her fully. “You staying at your apartment?”Amanda hesitates. “For now.”“You sure?” Grace asks. “You said your place is right next to the company. Maybe get some distance? My guest room’s empty. Just come stay with me for a while.”Amanda bites her bottom lip, thinking. Her thumb presses lightly against the glass rim. “Okay,” she says after a moment. “Just for a bit.”Grace nods, satisfied. “Good. Have any plan to buy a new place?” Amanda shrugs her shoulders and then shakes her head, “uh-uh.”Grace raises an eyebrow. But she doesn’t ask much—just gives her a short nod and a side hug. The kind that says, “I got you,” without using words.But Amanda doesn’t tell her everything. Something in her chest stays quiet. A tight, low feeling. It's not fear exactly. More like knowing. She has a gut feeling she won’t be here too long. Not in this city. Not in this life.They sit a bit longer, talking about nothi
Faye knew how to play cute and weak to get extra love and attention. Sure, she had her own struggles, and yes, she was really sick—but when those became her weapons, and when innocent people got hurt because of it... Amanda just couldn’t feel good about her anymore. And, Fiona is that kind of person. The moment Fiona’s name was mentioned, Faye’s face popped into Amanda’s head. Fiona’s epilepsy. Fiona’s hidden agenda. No different.Amanda lifts the glass again. She plans to savor this glass of vodka slowly, letting each sip unfold its hidden layers. The first sip of Grey Goose was like swallowing winter moonlight—cold, smooth, and almost weightless on the tongue. The vodka slipped down her throat without a fight, leaving no burn, only a quiet warmth pooling in her chest. She swirled the glass, watching the liquid cling to the crystal edges like liquid mercury. No harsh ethanol bite, no chemical aftertaste—just
Amanda only knows Faye went abroad for treatment. That’s what her high school classmates told her. Amanda never asked for more details. Actually, they weren’t sure why either, only heard something treatment overseas. Faye was tight-lipped about it. It felt like crossing a line that didn’t belong to her. And maybe, deep down, Amanda was afraid the truth would make her feel things she wasn’t ready to feel.But still—whatever the real reason was, Amanda had felt sorry for her. Whether Faye was truly sick or not, whether the illness was serious or something else was going on, Amanda believed one thing for sure: leaving the country wasn’t easy for someone like Faye.Faye's family had deep roots here. They had power, money, and connections. Her last name carried weight. If she chose to walk away from all that, she must have had a strong reason. Amanda believed that. Faye had built a life here. She had friends, a
Amanda picks up her phone, checks the screen. No new messages. She locks it again and tosses it back onto the table. So, yeah. Riley gave her a lot. But at a price. She leans back in the seat, one hand lifting to brush her hair off her face. Her earrings swing a little as she moves.People on the outside don’t get it. They see the shine, the surface. They say, “Why leave? Why not stay a little longer? So what if there’s no love—look at everything else you get.” But they don’t feel it.They don’t feel the cold silence in the car rides. The way he listens to everyone else more than her. The way he looks right through her when she’s trying to say something real. The way he picks and chooses when she’s allowed to matter.It’s not always the big fights that break things. It’s the small stuff. The nothing moments that pile up, like grit in a shell. Hurts like he
Faye’s breath catches. She doesn’t know how she knows. But she does. She swallows hard, throat dry. And then she can not hear any thing after that.Until... Amanda turns. She gets out of the car and walks back toward the bar. Riley doesn’t follow. He just sits there, motionless, like a statue.Faye stares. She’s still staring when the door to the bar closes behind Amanda. She’s not cold anymore. Or maybe she just can’t feel it now. She is so shocked that her mind goes blank.Her limbs move on their own as she steps away from the chocolate shop and walks toward her own car. Her steps are slow, uneven. Like she’s trying not to trip over something invisible. She doesn’t look back. Doesn’t glance toward Riley’s car.She just walks. Mind spinning. Hands stiff. And something heavy, sharp, pressing down right in the center of her chest.---Amanda walks back into the bar. The warmth inside hits her skin like a blanket, soft and heavy. It’s a little stuffy. Loud again. The low hum of music, p