003

Chapter 3

Aria

I stood outside Cole’s building with my bags at my feet, trying to talk myself into walking through the entrance.

There was no logical reason for the tightness in my chest over the idea of living under the same roof as Cole Carter after Sage had already convinced me everything would be fine.

Except there was a reason. There was always a reason where Cole was concerned. Something buried deep enough that I refused to dig it up.

I exhaled, shook the thought off before it could take root, and picked up my bags.

Sage buzzed me in before I even reached the intercom, like she’d been watching the street the entire time.

“You made it!” She pulled the door open before I could knock, already reaching for one of my suitcases. “Don’t worry, Cole isn’t home yet. Come in.”

I hesitated on the doorstep, grip tightening on the other bag. “Wait. Does he actually know I’m coming? I don’t want him being shocked to see me or something.”

“Sure, sure, he knows.” Sage laughed softly, already dragging my suitcase inside. “Don’t look at me like that. Come on.”

I followed her in anyway—unconvinced, but too drained to argue.

“Okay, don’t argue with me now, but I already made up the guest room for you,” she said, waving me down the hall. “I put fresh towels in there, and I may have gone a little overboard on snacks. Don’t judge me.”

“Sage, you didn’t have to do all that. It’s not even your apartment.”

“Details.” She waved a hand. “I still have a key and I’m still his sister, so I still get some say around here. Besides, I fly out to Paris tomorrow, and I wasn’t about to leave without making sure you were actually settled first.”

The apartment smelled faintly of cedar and something expensive. It hit me all over again whose space I was stepping into. She led me down the hall to a bright, tidy guest room with a bed made up in soft grey sheets and, true to her word, an embarrassing pile of snacks stacked on the dresser.

“This is too much,” I said, setting my bag down at the foot of the bed.

“It’s exactly enough.” She flopped onto the mattress, patting the space beside her until I sat too. “Now. Tell me you’re going to be okay.”

I opened my mouth to answer—and that was when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I almost ignored it. I wish I had.

It was a notification from one of those automatic apps that surfaces old photos and memories you never asked to see. Julian’s face filled half the screen. Today, three years ago.

Underneath was a picture of us kissing on a rooftop, his hand in my hair like he planned to stay.

I almost swiped it away. Then I saw the second notification stacked right under it—from a mutual friend’s public post. A photo of a church draped in white flowers. A caption that made my stomach drop straight through the floor.

*Congratulations to the happy couple. Julian and Elise, today’s the day!!*

Today?

I stared at the notification, confused, and tapped into it before I could stop myself. That was when I saw it in full. Julian was getting married.

What? Married? How? It made no absolute sense.

“Aria?” Sage’s voice cut through. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

I turned the phone toward her without a word, because I didn’t trust my voice not to crack the second I opened my mouth.

She took it from my hands and read the screen, her face cycling through about four expressions in two seconds—confusion, recognition, shock, then pure fury.

“He’s getting married? Like… today?” She looked up at me, still holding the phone. “It’s been what, four months?”

“Three,” I said quietly. “It’s been three months.”

“Still the same thing! He is an absolute rat.” Sage was already on her feet, phone still in her hand, scrolling like she was hunting for more evidence to be angry about. “Who does that? Who breaks up with someone and gets married three months later?”

I didn’t say a word. I just sat there, staring at my own hands, feeling strangely calm in the way you feel right before something breaks completely.

“I’m fine,” I said, mostly to convince myself.

“You are not fine. You’re doing that thing where you go all quiet and pretend you’re fine.” Sage sat back down, wrapping an arm around me. “You don’t have to be fine right now. You just found out your ex is getting married on the same day you moved out of a building that was, and I cannot stress this enough, an actual crime scene.”

A small, watery laugh escaped me, even though nothing felt funny.

“God, when you say it like that, it almost sounds funny.”

“I’m serious. You’re allowed to be a mess today.” She squeezed my shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you unpacked, and then we’re preparing way too much food and you’re going to sit on that couch and not think about Julian or the apartment or any of it.”

I nodded, grateful. She really was the best.

It took less than twenty minutes to unpack, since most of what I owned now fit into two suitcases. When I finally stepped out of the guest room to find Sage in the kitchen, my stomach still hollow from the day’s revelations, I nearly ran straight into a wall of a man coming from the opposite direction.

I looked up.

Cole.

He was in gym clothes, a towel slung around his neck, hair still damp like he’d just finished a workout. Up close he was taller than I remembered, broader too—nothing like the lanky teenager who used to make my life miserable in the hallways of our old high school. The only time I ever saw him now was from afar when he played or on TV, because there was no version of reality in which I would want him this close.

He stopped short when he saw me, expression shifting from mild irritation to something unreadable.

“You,” he said, like the word tasted bad.

“Me,” I answered flatly.

“Sage didn’t mention you were the one moving in.”

“That’s funny, because she told me you already knew.”

His jaw ticked. He shot a look down the hall toward the kitchen. “Of course she did.”

“Would it have changed anything if you had known?”

“Might have made other arrangements.”

“Trust me, if I had a choice, I wouldn’t be here either.” I crossed my arms. “But my apartment turned out to be part of a real-estate scam, so forgive me for not planning my housing crisis around your comfort.”

Something flickered across his face, gone before I could name it. “Sounds like your life is going great.”

The words landed exactly where he meant them to. Heat, humiliation, and anger tangled so tightly I couldn’t tell which was louder.

“Wow.” I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Some things never change.”

“Neither do you, apparently.” He brushed past me toward his room, close enough that I caught the clean scent of soap and sweat. “Still can’t take a joke.”

“That wasn’t a joke, Cole. That was you being exactly the same arrogant jerk you were in high school.”

He paused at his door, glancing back at me with something that almost looked like amusement—which somehow made it worse.

“Careful, Aria.” His voice dropped, low enough that only I could hear it. “You’re staying here now. Might want to remember whose apartment this actually is.”

He disappeared into his room and shut the door before I could think of a response sharp enough to satisfy me.

I stood there in the hallway, jaw clenched, the humiliation from the wedding notification and the fresh humiliation from Cole twisting into one exhausting knot in my chest.

Same Cole. Same feeling. Some things really didn’t change.

Sage appeared at the end of the hallway a moment later, glancing around like she expected to find someone else there.

“Where’s Cole? I thought I heard his voice.” Her eyes flicked from me to his closed door, then back to me.

I just sighed.

Sage’s expression shifted, suspicion creeping in. “Okay, wait. Did you two seriously already start something?”

“We didn’t start anything,” I said. “It was just a small argument.”

She let out a long, tired grunt. “Honestly, when are you two going to just get over whatever this is? It’s been years, Aria.”

“No, thank you,” I said flatly.

Sage sighed, glancing at Cole’s closed door one more time before shaking her head. “I don’t have the energy to referee this right now.”

“So leave it,” I said. “We’re both adults.

We’ll figure it out.”

“That’s what worries me,” she muttered, already heading back toward the kitchen.

I let out a sigh and followed her.