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Chapter 24 — Chloe's Trust

Author: Luna Hart
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-03-20 15:32:00

The next morning, I woke up before my alarm and stayed still for a full minute, staring at the ceiling above me as if that would somehow make the weight in my chest easier to name.

I pushed the blanket aside and sat up slowly. My body still felt too aware, as if sleep had rested my mind more than anything else. For a few seconds, I let my feet remain on the floor without moving. Then I stood, got dressed, and forced myself into the routine of the morning because routine was easi
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  • Ruined by My Best Friend’s Father   Chapter 35 — The Other Woman

    I saw her before she saw me.She was near the entrance of the conference hall, standing with a glass of water and the same unhurried composure I remembered from the restaurant months ago — dark hair, straight posture, the kind of presence that didn’t announce itself because it didn’t need to.It was a quarterly industry event, the kind where two hours of polite networking passed as professional development. I had been there fifteen minutes, spoken to the people I needed to speak to, and was deciding how much longer I was obligated to stay when she turned and our eyes met.She smiled immediately. Warm. Direct.“You’re Eva.” She crossed toward me. “I thought so.”“I am,” I said carefully.“Selene Marsh.” She extended her hand. “It’s good to finally meet you properly. Chloe talks about you constantly — her words, not mine.”“She’s easy to talk about,” I said.“She is.” She smiled. “I’ve known the Coles for years. Damian and I work in overlapping circles.” She said it simply, nothing load

  • Ruined by My Best Friend’s Father   Chapter 34 — What She Said

    I couldn’t stop hearing it.*Do you think she’s good for him?*Chloe had asked it simply, openly, the way she asked everything — no walls, no second layer. She had no idea what she was placing in my hands when she said it. She just wanted an honest answer from her best friend.And I had given her a careful one.I thought about it on the drive over. Still thinking about it when Damian opened the suite door and stepped aside. He looked at me once and said nothing, the way he did when he could tell something was running underneath the surface. He just waited.“Does Chloe know anything?” I said.“No.”“You’re certain.”“Yes.”I believed him. That was the thing about Damian — he didn’t soften difficult truths, which meant when he gave you a clean answer you could actually hold it.I set my bag down and looked at him.“She came to mine this morning,” I said. “After I got back. She sat on my couch and told me she thinks you’re seeing someone. She said you seem different lately.” I paused. “S

  • Ruined by My Best Friend’s Father   Chapter 33 — The Wrong Morning

    Light came through the gap in the curtains before anything else.I registered it slowly. The angle. The quality. The particular flatness that meant it was later than it should be.I reached for my phone.Eight forty-three.Six notifications. All Chloe.*Hey, are you awake?* — 7:15 a.m.*I’m going to pop by yours if that’s okay, need to talk* — 7:34 a.m.*Are you home?* — 7:58 a.m.*I’m outside, did you sleep in?* — 8:11 a.m.*Okay I’ll wait, I have coffee* — 8:19 a.m.*Eva?* — 8:40 a.m.I was already out of the bed.Damian was awake, sitting near the window with his phone, fully dressed. He looked up when I moved.“Chloe,” I said. “She’s outside my building. She’s been there since eight.”He set his phone down. “Go.”“I need a reason. She thinks I was home all night.”“Tell her your phone was on silent. You left it at the back sit of your car.”“She’s going to look at me and know something is off.”“Then keep it short.” He looked at me evenly. “The more you explain, the worse it gets.

  • Ruined by My Best Friend’s Father   Chapter 32 — Deliberately

    He didn’t apologise. That was the first thing. He looked at me across the quiet of the car park and waited for whatever I was going to lead with, and when I didn’t speak immediately he said, simply and without preamble: “I didn’t want to share your attention tonight.” I stared at him. “That’s your reason,” I said. “Yes.” “You cancelled on her. She called me in the middle of dinner, Damian. She’d gotten dressed. She was trying very hard not to make it a big deal and doing a poor job of it.” I looked at him directly. “And your reason is that you didn’t want to share my attention.” “Yes.” “You don’t feel bad about that.” He considered this with the particular seriousness he gave to questions he actually intended to answer. “I feel bad that she was hurt,” he said. “I don’t feel bad about the decision.” “Those aren’t the same thing.” “No. They’re not.” I exhaled and looked away from him for a moment. The car park was empty. The overhead lights were flat and indifferent. Somewhe

  • Ruined by My Best Friend’s Father   Chapter 31 — What She Doesn’t Say

    The food helped.It usually did with Chloe. Something about eating together settled whatever had been unsettled when she arrived, like the act of it reminded her that things were still ordinary in the ways that counted.By the time the containers were half empty she was already talking about something else, a seminar she had nearly slept through, a group project partner who had not opened a single shared document in two weeks, a dress she had been looking at online and couldn’t justify.“Send me the link,” I said.“It’s too expensive.”“Send it anyway.”“Why? So you can tell me to buy it?”“So I can tell you whether it’s worth it.”She smiled. “You have very strong opinions about other people’s money.”“Someone has to.”She sent the link. I looked at the dress. It was good. I told her so.“See?” she said. “This is the problem. I come here for sympathy and you enable me.”“I’m very consistent.”“The worst kind of friend.” She set her phone down. “Can I ask you something?”“Go ahead.”“

  • Ruined by My Best Friend’s Father   Chapter 30 — Smarter

    His message came at 11:47 in the morning.One word.*Tonight.*I read it once. Put my phone face-down. Picked it up again. Read it a second time like the meaning might have changed.It hadn’t.Andre rolled his chair back and looked at me over the top of his monitor. “You’ve gone very still.”“I’m thinking.”“About work?”“Yes.”He didn’t look convinced. “Because that’s the face you make when it’s definitely not work.”“Andre.”“I’m just saying.” He turned back to his screen. “The Harlow file needs the Q3 numbers before two. Can you pull them?”“Already did.”“Sent them to me?”“Doing it now.”He hummed. “See, this is why I like you. You’re three steps ahead before I finish the sentence.”I forwarded the file without answering.The phone was still face-down beside my keyboard. I left it that way.An hour passed. Then another. I sat through a review meeting that ran long, helped a junior analyst fix a formula error that was making his whole spreadsheet collapse, and ate lunch at my desk

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