Chapter 9

Roman’s POV

The house was too quiet.

I’d spent the last hour flipping through the same playlist, trying to drown out the silence. But music didn’t do shit when your thoughts were screaming louder. The sofa was still warm from where I’d been sitting for too long, doing nothing but clenching my jaw and trying not to think about her.

So when Maddie texted me—“u home? i’m bored and hot ;)”—I didn’t even hesitate before I replied.

Yeah, come over.

That was all she needed.

Ten minutes later, she was at the door, perfume hitting me before she even stepped in. Vanilla. Cheap. Sticky sweet, like every time she came over already meant nothing. Her smile was stretched too wide, her blonde hair in those perfect waves she spent hours on, like she expected me to care.

“You gonna let me stand out here or what?” she teased, already walking in like she owned the place.

I shut the door behind her.

She didn’t wait. Dropped her bag by the stairs and turned around to press herself against me, her lips brushing my neck, her hands sliding under my shirt like she had something to prove. She always acted like that—like we were playing some kind of game I never agreed to. Like she could make me forget what I really wanted.

I let her pull me to the couch. I let her straddle me. Her laugh was high and breathy, her thighs already moving over mine, grinding like she needed me right that second.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” she whispered, biting my earlobe.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Liar.” She licked her lips. “You just missed this.”

She kissed me, and I didn’t stop her. I kissed her back, just to feel something. Just to keep my mind from wandering to the one place it always wanted to go. Her hands fumbled at my belt. I helped. Not because I cared. But because it was easier than feeling nothing at all.

Her moans filled the room too fast, too loud, too fake.

My hands slid up her thighs, and she arched into me, throwing her head back like we were in a movie. She always performed, like she was auditioning for the role of the girl who could make me forget.

But she didn’t know she’d already lost.

Because even with her on top of me, half-naked and desperate, I wasn’t thinking about her.

I was thinking about someone else entirely.

I didn’t hear the door open. But I felt it.

The air shifted. Just slightly. Just enough.

Then I heard it. The soft click of the front door shutting. A pause. Silence. And then.

“Ari?” I muttered without thinking.

Maddie froze for half a second, then rolled her hips again, oblivious. But I wasn’t looking at her anymore. My head turned. Slowly.

There. In the hallway.

She stood there, still as stone.

Ariana.

Her hand was still on the doorknob. Her eyes locked on me. Then on Maddie.

And then lower.

Time stopped. For me, at least.

Her face didn’t twist in shock. It didn’t crumple in pain. It didn’t do any of the things I expected. She just looked at me. Not like a girl caught in heartbreak. But like a girl who just had the last piece of something beautiful ripped from her hands.

And then she walked away.

No screaming. No tears. Just a quiet turn and a door slamming upstairs.

Maddie shifted in my lap. “Was that your sister?”

“She’s not my fucking sister,” I snapped.

Maddie blinked, confused.

I pushed her off me and stood, my hands shaking, heart racing like I’d just been shot.

Because Ariana saw me.

And I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.

I didn’t want Maddie. I never did.

I wanted her.

Ariana's POV

I pushed the front door open, trying not to drop my smoothie or my bag. And then I heard it. A sound I couldn’t unhear even if I tried.

A moan. High-pitched, breathy, unmistakable.

I froze.

At first, I thought maybe the TV was on. Some over-the-top drama show. But when I stepped into the living room, I saw her.

A girl.

Blonde. Perfect. Straddling him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

And Roman. Sitting on the couch. His shirt halfway off. His hands gripping her waist.

They didn’t stop.

They didn’t even pretend to.

And Roman... he looked up. Straight at me. His eyes met mine, and he didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.

He just... stared.

Like I was invisible.

Like I didn’t matter.

Like I wasn’t anything at all.

I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to disappear, to vanish before I broke down in front of them. My chest felt like it was caving in, my fingers went numb, and I don’t even remember how my feet moved. I just remember the door slamming shut behind me.

I didn’t cry.

Not yet.

I walked. Fast. I didn’t even care where I was going. I passed the corner store, the gas station, someone called my name but I didn’t stop. My vision was blurry and my throat was tight and my hands were shaking.

I made it to the little park near our street and sat down on a bench. That’s when the tears came. No warning. Just hot, ugly crying that made my whole body shake.

Why did it hurt this much?

He wasn’t mine.

He never even talked to me unless he had to. Half the time, he looked through me like I didn’t exist.

But sometimes... sometimes I caught him watching me. Sometimes I felt something in the way he went quiet when I laughed. I thought maybe... maybe there was something there.

I was wrong.

He wanted her. That girl. Whoever she was. That blonde, confident, perfect girl who didn’t hesitate to throw herself at him. Who had everything I didn’t.

He didn’t even push her away when I walked in.

And maybe I deserved it. For thinking I ever had a chance. For believing that the way my heart pounded when he looked at me meant anything.

He made it clear tonight.

I’m just a girl living in his house.

And he doesn’t see me at all