Chapter nine

Ella turned, a wide smile breaking across her face.

Aria, a whirlwind of bright colors and boundless energy, was practically sprinting towards her, her long, dark hair streaming behind her.

Aria, her best friend since kindergarten, the one person who knew her better than anyone, even if she didn’t know everything

Aria launched herself at Ella, a bone-crushing hug that momentarily stole her breath.

“I missed you so much! Paris, huh? You lucky bitch!”

She pulled back, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Spill.

Every.

Single.

Detail!!!!!!!!!!”

Ella laughed, a genuine, unburdened sound.

“It was amazing, Aria. Truly.” She linked arms with her friend, pulling her towards their favorite coffee spot, a small, bustling café tucked away in a quiet corner of the campus.

“You would have loved it. The shopping, oh my god, the shopping!”

They settled into a booth by the window, the aroma of roasted beans filling the air.

Ella ordered a latte, Aria a triple espresso, her usual fuel.

“Okay, so details,” Aria prompted, leaning forward, her chin propped on her hands, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Did you buy everything? Did you see the Eiffel Tower? Did you meet a hot French guy? Tell me everything!”

Ella took a slow sip of her latte, savoring the creamy sweetness. She recounted tales of wandering through the Louvre, of picnics by the Seine, of stumbling upon hidden boutiques with exquisite vintage finds.

She described the taste of flaky croissants, the sound of street musicians, the feeling of the city’s ancient pulse beneath her feet.

She painted a vivid picture of a magical, romantic escape, carefully omitting the one detail that had truly defined her trip.

“And the clothes!” Ella gushed, her eyes sparkling. “I found this incredible little shop, just off a side street, with the most beautiful silk scarves. And a pair of boots, Aria, you would die for them. Softest leather, perfect heel…”

Aria listened, rapt, interjecting with gasps and exclamations of delight.

“Oh my god, you have to show me! We’re going shopping this weekend, you need to help me find some Parisian chic.”

“Absolutely,” Ella agreed, a warm glow spreading through her. It felt good to be back, to share these moments with her best friend, to feel a sense of normalcy after the intensity of the past few days.

Aria leaned back, a thoughtful expression on her face.

She studied Ella for a moment, her gaze unusually sharp. “You look… different, though.”

Ella’s heart gave a little lurch. She tried to keep her expression neutral.

“Different? How so?”

Aria shrugged, stirring her espresso with a tiny spoon. “I don’t know. More radiant, maybe? Like you’ve been on a really good vacation, not just a trip.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Did you meet someone?”

Ella forced a laugh, a littl e too loud, a little too quick. “No! No, nothing like that. Just Paris. It’s magical, you know? It just makes you feel good.”

She took another long sip of her latte, trying to appear nonchalant.

Aria didn’t seem entirely convinced. She watched Ella with an unnerving intensity. “Really? Because you have this glow about you. And you seem lighter. Happier.” She paused, then her voice dropped, a hint of seriousness replacing her usual playful tone. “Did you and James sleep in the same room?”

The question caught Ella off guard. She nearly choked on her latte. “James? No, of course not. He had… we needed privacy, he’s my dad.” She hoped her voice didn’t betray the tremor she felt inside.

She had spent the entire trip with him.

Aria hummed, a low, skeptical sound. “Right.”

She took a slow sip of her espresso, her gaze still fixed on Ella. “You know, I still think he likes you.”

Ella’s carefully constructed composure threatened to shatter.

“What? Aria, don’t be ridiculous.” She tried to sound dismissive, but a flicker of panic, cold and sharp, darted through her.

“No, I’m serious,” Aria insisted, leaning forward again, her voice hushed. “The way he looks at you. It’s… intense. Not like a guardian. More like”

She trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Like he sees something in you that no one else does. Something important.”

Ella felt a knot tighten in her stomach. “He’s my guardian, Aria. He took me in after my dad died. He’s just protective.” She tried to keep her voice steady, to project an air of certainty she didn’t feel. “He feels responsible for me, that’s all.”

Aria shook her head slowly. “No, it’s more than that. Remember that time at the charity gala, when that guy kept trying to talk to you? James practically materialized out of thin air and just… stared him down.

The poor guy practically ran away.” She chuckled, a wry smile on her lips. “He was like a lion guarding his cub. Or something else.”

Ella remembered the incident vividly. James had been a silent, imposing presence, his gaze a warning that had sent shivers down her spine, even as it thrilled her.

She had dismissed it then as overprotective behavior, a manifestation of his grief and his new role. Now, hearing Aria describe it, a different interpretation began to form, one that resonated with the raw, possessive way he had taken her in Paris.

“He’s just a good guy, Aria,” Ella insisted, her voice gaining a desperate edge. She needed to convince herself as much as her friend. “He’s always been there for me. For my dad, then for me.”

Aria’s expression was uncharacteristically serious. “I know he’s been there for you, Ella. And I know he’s a good man. But there’s a difference between being a good guardian and being possessive.

There’s a line, you know? And sometimes, I feel like he crosses it.” She paused, her gaze searching Ella’s face. “He likes you, Ella. Too much.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and unspoken.

Ella felt a chill despite the warmth of the café. Aria’s innocent observation, born of genuine concern, felt like a direct hit, a spotlight shining on the secret she was so desperately trying to keep hidden.

“No,” Ella said, her voice firmer now, pushing away the tremor. She met Aria’s gaze, forcing herself to project an image of calm conviction.

“You’re misreading it. He doesn’t. He really doesn’t.” She took a deep breath, trying to regain control. “He’s family. That’s all.”