I thought I knew Kiera better than anyone. We had been inseparable since our first year at university. We shared everything—our hopes, our dreams, our fears. So when something started to feel off between us, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something wasn't right.
At first, I thought it was just me being paranoid. Kiera was always busy with work, and I had been distracted with my own life. But the silence between us had grown louder. Her messages were shorter, her replies colder. The warm, constant stream of conversations had slowed down to nothing but occasional, formal check-ins. And when we did meet up, I noticed the way she would avoid my eyes, or how her smiles seemed more forced. It was like something had changed, and I didn't know why.
That night, I couldn't ignore it anymore. I needed answers. Kiera had texted me earlier in the day, asking to meet up at our usual café. I should've felt relieved, like everything was fine again, but my stomach twisted in knots. Something was off, and I was tired of pretending I didn't notice.
The café was small and cozy, the kind of place where the scent of coffee filled the air and the quiet chatter of patrons blended into the background. It was the same place we'd come to for late-night talks, to study, or to escape the chaos of life. When I saw Kiera sitting in our corner booth, I felt a lump form in my throat.
She looked different tonight. Her eyes were red, like she'd been crying, but she quickly wiped her face when she saw me. Her hair was pulled back messily, and her fingers fidgeted nervously with the edge of her coffee cup. Normally, she was the one who kept the conversation light, but tonight, there was an unfamiliar tension between us.
"Hey," I said softly, sliding into the seat across from her. My voice didn't sound like my own—there was too much uncertainty behind it.
"Hey," she replied, her voice thin, almost a whisper. She didn't meet my eyes, and I noticed the way her fingers tightened around the cup. "How have you been?"
"I've been okay," I said, even though I wasn't. "But I need to ask you something. I don't know how to say this, but…" I took a deep breath. "Kiera, what's going on with you and Max?"
At the mention of his name, her entire body stiffened. Her face paled, and she glanced quickly at the window, as if trying to avoid my gaze. The flicker of guilt that crossed her face was unmistakable, and I felt my stomach drop.
"I—what do you mean?" she asked, her voice too shaky, too unsure.
"Kiera," I said, unable to hide the frustration in my voice. "You've been acting different lately. And I found something. Something about you and Max. I'm not stupid. You two have been together, haven't you?"
Her eyes widened, and she took a sharp breath. The way she looked at me—like she was trying to find the right words—only made the air heavier. She was guilty. I could see it in her eyes, and I hated that I had to hear it from her.
"Lila, I…" She trailed off, her gaze dropping to the table, as if she couldn't bear to face me. "It's not what you think."
"I don't even know what to think anymore, Kiera," I whispered, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. "You and Max—behind my back? For how long? How could you do this to me?"
Her voice cracked when she spoke again. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I never wanted to hurt you, Lila. It just... happened. I didn't know what to do. I never meant for things to go this far."
"Don't you dare tell me it 'just happened,'" I snapped, standing up from the table. My chest was tight, and my mind was spinning. I could feel the tears rising, but I forced them back. I wouldn't cry—not here, not now. "How long, Kiera? How long have you been lying to me?"
"A few months," she said, barely above a whisper. "It started a few months ago."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. A few months. For months, I had been in the dark, oblivious to the fact that my best friend had been sleeping with my boyfriend. The betrayal felt like a knife in my side, twisting with every second I stood there. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. My heart raced, and my hands shook as I turned away from her.
I paced the floor, my thoughts scattered. How could she? How could she do this to me?
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, my voice trembling with anger. "Why didn't you come to me? I thought you were my best friend. I thought I could trust you."
"I thought I could end it before you found out," she said, tears now streaming down her face. "I didn't want to hurt you, Lila. I was confused. I didn't know what to do."
"Confused?" I repeated, my voice sharp. "That's your excuse? You're telling me you slept with him, and that's your excuse?"
"I didn't mean for it to go this far," she said, almost pleading with me. "I wanted to stop before it went too far, but I couldn't. And now… now I don't know what to do."
The room felt too small. The walls were closing in, and I could hardly breathe through the pressure of it all. I felt like I was suffocating under the weight of the betrayal, but I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop the way my heart cracked open, spilling out all the anger and hurt that had been building inside me.
"I don't think I can ever forgive you, Kiera," I said, my voice breaking. "You've crossed a line that we can't come back from."
Her face crumpled, and she reached out a hand as if she could touch me, but I stepped back. "Please, Lila. Please don't hate me."
"I don't even know who you are anymore," I said, the words barely escaping my lips. "You and Max—how long were you planning to keep this from me? How long were you going to pretend to be my friend?"
She didn't answer. She just stood there, crying quietly, and I felt my heart break even more. This wasn't the person I had trusted with everything. This wasn't my best friend.
"I can't do this anymore," I said, my voice a whisper now. "I need space. I need time to think. Please, just go."
Kiera stood there for a moment, like she was going to say something else, but she didn't. Slowly, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there in the quiet café, surrounded by nothing but the ringing silence of my shattered heart.
The next few days passed in a haze. I didn't know what to do with myself. I buried myself in work, keeping my mind busy with tasks and deadlines, but even that couldn't keep the thoughts of Kiera and Max from creeping in. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw their faces—her, betraying me; him, smiling at me like he hadn't destroyed everything we had.
And all the while, Sebastian watched me. I could feel his eyes on me every time I walked into the office. It was like he could sense the storm inside me, and he didn't press me. He never asked what was wrong. But his presence was there, steady and unflinching, like a calm in the middle of a hurricane.
One night, long after the office had emptied out, I stood by the window, staring at the city below. My mind was a mess, my heart heavy with the weight of everything that had happened. I heard the sound of footsteps behind me, and I didn't have to turn around to know it was Sebastian.
"You're not okay," he said softly, his voice low but clear in the silence.
"I'm fine," I said, even though I wasn't. I didn't look at him. I couldn't.
"No, you're not," he replied, his tone more gentle than usual. "You don't have to pretend with me, Lila."
I swallowed hard, feeling my chest tighten. "I don't know what to do, Sebastian. Kiera… Max… everything. It hurts."
"You don't have to do anything right now," he said, his voice steady. "Just breathe. Take it one step at a time."
I turned to face him, my eyes searching his face for something—comfort, maybe, or understanding.
"I don't know how to fix this," I whispered.
"You don't have to fix anything," he said softly. "You just have to let yourself feel it."
And for the first time in days, I let myself feel something other than anger and betrayal. I let myself feel the weight of it all, and I didn't have to hide it.