A Secret Kept For Close Friends

Chloe darted into the ballroom, barefoot, her silk gown billowing in the frigid blast of the air conditioning.

The moment she saw Romeo, tears streamed down her face. "Romeo, you got back together with her…" Before she could finish, she swayed and collapsed.

Romeo lunged forward, catching her by instinct. "Chloe, wake up! Call the family doctor!" Without a single glance in my direction, he all but carried Chloe from the room, determined to get her home himself.

I remained where I was, watching his retreating figure. The light refracting through the tower of champagne flutes felt suddenly chilly.

I rejoined my friends, picking up a flute of champagne. The pale gold liquid swirled in the crystal, looking chilled and remote.

I took a sip, the bubbles popping sharply on my tongue.

In the past, I would have stormed out after them, ready for a confrontation.

Now, however, all I wanted was to chat with my friends about a new art exhibit.

That was infinitely more satisfying than watching this melodrama unfold.

After about twenty minutes, the sharp click of heels sounded behind me. I set down my glass and turned.

Chloe stood a short distance away, draped in Romeo’s suit jacket. Her face was still pale, but her eyes were clear and bright.

"The board members called Romeo into a meeting," she said softly. "He told me to come back and get some rest."

I glanced at the dust on her bare feet. She'd been sent home, only to "recover" with remarkable speed and return.

"You know," she leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper as her wine-scented breath brushed my ear, "I 'woke up' on the way to the car. He whispered to me, 'Don't be afraid, I'll always be by your side.'"

The evening breeze drifted in from the terrace, lifting a corner of the jacket.

"Sloane." Her eyes curved into an icy, sharp smile. "You'll never beat me."

Those words used to feel like a knife twisting in my gut. Now, I just nodded.

"Is that all?"

She looked stunned.

"If you're finished, you should go lie down," I said, turning back to my friends. "Since you're not feeling well, you should get some proper rest."

A waiter topped off my champagne.

A few seconds of silence passed before I heard her retreating footsteps, followed by the soft thud of his jacket hitting the carpet.

See? She could toss his things aside without a second thought.

And he treated me as if I were untouchable.

I bent down, picked up the jacket, and brushed off a speck of non-existent dust before handing it to a nearby waiter.

My movements were fluid, my heart calm.

What on earth had I been fighting for all this time?

As I was getting ready to leave, the grand clock in the ballroom struck nine. Romeo returned from his meeting, a deep furrow still etched between his brows.

"Sloane." He stopped in front of me, his tone cautious. "I have to fly to London for a few days. I'm leaving early tomorrow morning."

"Mm," I murmured, smoothing the front of my dress.

"Three days," he said, pausing. "Chloe's been a bit unstable lately. The doctor said it's best if someone looks after her." He met my gaze. "Why don't we let her stay at our place? That way, someone will be there if anything happens."

"I can hire a private nurse," I replied flatly.

"A stranger won't be as attentive," Romeo's voice softened. "Sloane, you know her heart is weak. What if something happens…"

He left the sentence hanging, but the implication was clear.

In the past, his worried tone would have wounded me. Now, it just left me feeling bone-weary.

At some point, Chloe had drifted over. Her voice was faint. "Sloane, you don't have to worry about me, I can manage on my own…"

Romeo immediately turned to her, his voice softening with affection. "Don't be silly. I've already made the arrangements."

In the end, I agreed. Not because I was giving in, but because I was too tired to argue anymore.