All Chapters of The Roomie Complex: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

CHERYL'S POVThe tennis club was pristine—one of those places that looked like it had a monthly manicure. All white fences, trimmed hedges, and the scent of fresh-cut grass floating through the air like something out of a luxury perfume commercial. I stood in front of the court, holding the borrowed racket Sabrina had tossed at me from her car with a smirk, wondering what exactly I’d gotten myself into.She stood across from me now, a perfect figure in her white tennis dress, blonde hair glinting like spun gold beneath the mid-morning sun. She twirled her racket with ease, like this court was her kingdom and I was the clueless intruder.“You don’t play often, do you?” she asked, bouncing the ball once with her racket.“Define ‘often’,” I muttered, brushing my ponytail over my shoulder. “I mean, I watched a lot of Wimbledon as a kid.”Sabrina laughed—a real one this time. “Well, try not to die. That’s all I ask.”Then she served. And it was vicious.The ball rocketed over the net like

CHERYL'S POVI stood frozen as Sabrina’s drenched form shook herself out, water spraying like a storm. Her hair—once sleek and ice blonde—clung to her cheeks and neck, strands whipping her face. Her dress was heavy and dripping, plastered to her form, revealing the tension locked in her muscles. She now had a little bit of mascare dripping from her eyes, plus the angry wildness of her eyes made her look like a crazed banshee.“This is insane—I got pushed!” she yelled, voice loud enough to halt conversations and attract curious stares. “Someone shoved me into that pool!”Anika, leaning against the far wall, didn’t miss a beat—cold blue eyes locked on me with pure hostility. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. It was like she had mastered weaponized stillness.Mid-murmur, Sabrina locked onto Anika. Words tumbled out: “It was you, Anika. You pushed me!” Sabrina's soprano rang clear, trembling between accusation and disbelief.Anika slid off her perch with measured grace, stepping closer, ev

CHERYL'S POVThe house greeted us with silence and warmth, the hum of the chandelier above the foyer casting a soft golden hue over the marble floors. Sabrina and I stepped in, soaked to the skin, our damp clothes sticking to our bodies, hair dripping trails of chlorine and regret across the tiles. I was still catching my breath from the mess of the evening—my nerves still vibrating from the way Aiden’s arms had felt wrapped around me. Sabrina beside me, fuming quietly, looked like a woman who had survived a storm and was still deciding who to strike with lightning.Oliver was the first to meet us.He was standing at the foot of the stairs, dressed in a dark sweater and slacks, one hand resting casually on the railing, a tablet in the other. But the second he saw us—his brow furrowed deeply, lips parting in visible confusion.“What happened?” he asked, stepping forward quickly, eyes flicking from me to his sister, then back to me again.Sabrina didn’t miss a beat. “Some bitch pushed m

AIDEN'S POVFundraisers like these weren’t new to me.Rich people dressed in borrowed nostalgia, sipping champagne, and trying to outbid each other in kindness. They added glitter to guilt and games to keep it exciting. It was all very polished, very predictable.But I hadn’t come here for the glitter, the money, or even the game.I came here for her.I arrived fashionably late, just enough to be noticed but not remembered. Picked up my name tag from the velvet-draped table and clipped it to my lapel. The silver font caught the light. Aiden Scott. Sharp. Formal. Deceivingly tame.I scanned the room like a bloodhound, but my eyes found her faster than instinct.She stood at the drinks area in a gown that looked poured from liquid stars, the sequins catching the light like constellations. Her dark hair was swept up to expose her long neck, and her lips—painted red—looked like trouble wrapped in a kiss. I’d spent nights trying to forget how those lips tasted. I failed every single one.S

Cheryl’s POVThe silk shimmer of my gown caught the faint chandelier light as I stepped away from the door, clutching the small velvet pouch with my prizes. The tagged name cards—fifteen of them—and Sabrina’s lay inside, each one a trophy of my quiet triumph.I hadn’t meant to play the game, but after Aiden’s confrontation, I found myself wanting to prove something—not to him or even Oliver or even anyone at all, but to myself. Maybe I was just a liar and I was seeking a distraction, every time I run into Aiden which happens to every damn day, I always needed a distraction from the way my heart raced. It wasn't easy to put the way he looked at me out of my mind, the way he looked deeped into my eyes like he wanted to reach my soul. The river of adrenaline, guilt, and guilt-riddled pride I’d felt skirting the edge of the garden had steered me back inside, into the sea of elegantly deceiving faces.I walked silently through the corridor, my footsteps sounded like tiny little echoes Ther