All Chapters of The Roomie Complex: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

OLIVER'S POVThe chandeliers overhead looked like frozen fireworks—crystal exploding in perfect symmetry—each facet catching the warm light and scattering it over the room like gold dust. The ballroom glowed. Satin gowns trailed like whispers behind women, and tuxedos hugged the shoulders of men like confidence sewn into fabric. Laughter and soft classical music filled the air like perfume, elegant and rich, while the scent of white roses and sandalwood gently rolled over the hall.I stood by the tall glass window, the kind that made you feel like a king overlooking his kingdom. My reflection stared back at me, sharp tuxedo, tailored to perfection, the white pocket square perfectly crisp against black silk. My nerves weren’t visible, thank God. Inside though, my chest was a war zone.Pulling this night together had felt like wrestling with shadows. For weeks I’d wondered if anyone would show up. What if the memories of high school had been too cruel for some people? What if no one car

Cheryl’s POVThe kiss was dangerous.It was deep and slow, the kind that didn’t ask permission, the kind that knew it already had me. His mouth moved over mine like he had something to prove, like he was staking a claim he’d never truly let go of. His hand gripped the back of my neck, fingers tangled in my hair, and his other arm curled tightly around my waist. It should have felt wrong—immoral, reckless, maybe even pathetic.But I kissed him back.God help me, I kissed him like he was oxygen and I was seconds from suffocating. Like I was trying to feel something, anything, that would pull me out of the numb spiral I’d been trapped in for weeks. My head was spinning, my heart a mess of thunder and heat and grief. It was all too familair, this very moment - I have lived it before and it's still an excruciating pleasure.And then—Click.The lights came on.A gasp.A masculine gasp.I opened my eyes. Slowly. Like I already knew what I was about to see and didn’t want the confirmation.H

CHERYL’S POVFLASHBACK - LUNCH DATE WITH OLIVERThe clinking of cutlery had never sounded louder.We were seated at Celeste, the kind of upscale restaurant people posted on Instagram but rarely actually enjoyed, that same afternoon I returned Aiden's gift, I remember being all flustered about meeting Aiden again.I tried to push it down,Tried to smile, make conversation, laugh at Oliver's half-hearted jokes. He noticed. Of course he did. Oliver wasn’t stupid. He stirred his iced tea, eyes flicking to me with a mix of concern and something else—disappointment, maybe?"You're quiet today," he finally said.I looked up, feigning surprise. "I'm okay."He nodded slowly, though I could tell he didn’t believe me. The silence between us dragged. I hated it. I hated feeling like a traitor when I hadn’t technically done anything wrong. But even thinking about Aiden, his mouth on mine, the heat, the tension, made me feel like I was standing on broken glass."Cheryl," Oliver said, setting his

Cheryl's POVI knew I shouldn’t be nervous.But as the car pulled into the long stone driveway, I felt that familiar flutter in my stomach — like I was stepping onto a stage I hadn’t rehearsed for. The house loomed ahead, tall and elegant and cold, just like the people who lived in it. Or at least, one of them.I wasn’t afraid of grand houses. I’d lived in one before — with Marty. But even at his worst, that house had felt warmer than this one. This one felt like a museum. Like you weren’t supposed to touch anything. Like your existence was a favor, not a right.I stepped out of the car, carrying my suitcase in one hand, my phone in the other. I had texted Oliver ten minutes ago, telling him I’d arrived. No reply yet.The door was already opening before I could ring the bell.Of course it was her.Sabrina.Her posture was stiff, arms crossed over a pristine beige knit top, the kind of shade that only stayed that clean when you didn’t do anything real with your day. Her hair was pulle

Cheryl's PovThe sun cut through the ivory curtains like a golden whisper, soft and warm. I stirred slowly under the thick duvet, the weight of the night before lingering on my chest like a ghost I couldn’t quite shake.Oliver’s words echoed again.“I’m falling for you.”And just as loud, Sabrina’s voice clawed in after it.“You’re going to regret this. Both of you.”I sat up and swung my legs over the bed, exhaling slowly as the cold floor kissed the soles of my feet. A chill curled around my spine. I rose and padded to the bathroom, where warm water steamed against the marble tiles and lavender soap filled the room with a false sense of calm. I scrubbed harder than I needed to, as if I could wash off the anxiety clinging to me like second skin.After drying off, I slipped into a sleek navy-blue dress that hugged me modestly and zipped up the back with a satisfying click. My dark curls framed my face, and a pair of kitten heels completed the look. It was professional enough for my li