"Girl, come help me out!" Chloe called sharply from behind the car, struggling with the weight of shopping bags. The late afternoon sun bounced off her sunglasses as she shifted two high-end designer bags into one hand, her stilettos clicking irritably against the driveway tiles.
Nadia stood frozen at the front door, her eyes glued to the entrance like it was a ticking bomb. Her hands were cold, her breath shallow. Every step Chloe took closer to the house made her pulse climb higher into her throat.
"Are you going to help me," Chloe barked again, "or are you just going to keep staring at your own house like it's haunted?"
Nadia jolted out of her daze. "O-Okay! I'm coming," she said, forcing a smile as she jogged over to relieve Chloe of one of the bags. Her voice sounded distant—even to her own ears.
Chloe side-eyed her. "What's gotten into you? It's just your house. Not like you're hiding a corpse in there."
Nadia laughed a little too loudly.
Chloe rolled her eyes and turned toward the front door. It was ajar. She stopped mid-step and raised a brow. "Girl, how come your front door is half open? You out here leaving it wide open like we're in the suburbs?"
Before Nadia could speak, Chloe shoved it open fully with her shoulder and walked in.
Inside, the living room looked… perfect. Spotless. Almost suspiciously so.
Chloe's sharp heels echoed as she entered the room, eyes scanning the layout. They dropped the bags on the table. "This?" she said, spinning slowly in place. "This is your idea of messy?" She gave Nadia a pointed look. "Did a ghost clean it up overnight?"
Nadia trailed behind her, laughing nervously. "I… guess I cleaned it up last night. Out of stress."
Chloe eyed the stiff way she stood and tilted her head. "I swear, you're acting mad weird today."
"Want something to drink?" Nadia asked suddenly, grasping at anything to change the topic. "I have wine."
"That'll do," Chloe said, sinking into the cream-colored couch like she owned it. She crossed her legs, flipping through her phone. "Make it something red. I need something to balance my mood after carrying your emotional energy all day."
Nadia disappeared into the kitchen, her hands trembling as she opened the wine cabinet. Her fingers landed on the first thing she saw — a bottle of Baron Philippe Rothschild Cabernet Sauvignon. She poured two glasses and walked back into the living room, careful not to spill.
"Here you go," she said, offering a glass.
Chloe took a sip and nodded. "Decent." She inhaled. "And I like the way this room smells. Doesn't smell rich, but not cheap either. Like… trying its best."
Nadia gave a tight-lipped smile.
The moment was still. Then—
A faint thump echoed from upstairs. Followed by a creak.
Chloe froze mid-sip.
Her eyes darted upward. "Did you hear that?"
Nadia's stomach dropped. Her hand tightened around her wine glass. "It's probably the neighbors."
Chloe slowly turned her head toward her.
"Neighbors?" she said flatly.
Nadia nodded quickly. "Yeah. The upstairs unit."
Chloe placed her glass on the table and stood.
"Nadia. You live in a standalone unit."
There was a beat of silence. Then another.
"Uh… my cat," Nadia blurted.
Chloe folded her arms. "Your what?"
"My… cat. He knocks things over."
Chloe didn't move for a moment. Then, slowly, she began walking toward the stairs.
Nadia's heart slammed in her chest. She rushed forward. "Chloe, wait—"
Chloe didn't stop.
"Please don't go up there," Nadia said, her voice breaking, desperation rising in her throat. "Just don't—please."
But Chloe's steps were deliberate, one heel at a time clicking against the polished stairs.
"I swear if I find a man hiding in your closet, I'm burning this whole place down."
"Chloe!" Nadia pleaded again.
No answer.
At the top of the stairs, Chloe paused. There was another creak — softer this time. She turned toward the bedroom door and placed her hand on the knob.
Nadia stood at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide, fingers pressed against her lips.
Chloe opened the door.
And froze.
Inside the room, standing shirtless, was Ryan — her boyfriend.
His eyes went wide the moment he saw her. And then dropped in shame.
Chloe blinked. Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.
Her gaze snapped from Ryan to the side of the bed — where Nadia's perfume bottle stood, her earrings carelessly tossed on the nightstand.
A slow, suffocating silence stretched between the three of them.
Chloe stepped inside, one hand against the doorframe to keep herself from falling.
Ryan tried to speak. "Chloe, I—"
She held up a hand.
Her voice cracked. "How long?"
Ryan hesitated. "It's not—"
"How long?" she repeated. Her voice wasn't angry. It wasn't yelling. It was the kind that made the air still. That made guilt settle like fog.
"Six… months," Ryan said quietly.
That was when Chloe laughed. Not out of humor — but the kind of hollow, bitter laugh that had nowhere else to go.
She turned slowly toward Nadia, who stood trembling at the doorway.
"I trusted you," Chloe whispered. "You. Of all people."
Tears streamed down Nadia's face. "Chloe, I didn't mean—"
"No," Chloe said, her voice rising for the first time. "Don't give me the classic 'I didn't mean it' speech. You knew exactly what you were doing when you let him crawl into your bed."
Nadia dropped her gaze.
Chloe turned to Ryan. "And you. God… I gave you everything."
She backed away from them both, shaking her head. "You know what hurts the most? It's not even the betrayal. It's the fact that I actually liked you idiots."
She wiped under her eye quickly and stood taller.
"I'm leaving. And when I do — don't you dare come after me. Either of you."
She walked past Nadia without another word, down the stairs, and out the door.
When the door slammed shut, the echo rang louder than any argument ever could.
And inside, Nadia finally let herself cry.