Chapter 3: The Secret I Wasn’t Supposed to See

Chiara’s surprise was poorly feigned when she opened the door.

“Oh, Celeste, what are you doing here? I think this is your first time at my house.”

She smiled, ushering me inside.

“I’m here for my quilt,” I said bluntly.

Her smile didn’t falter as she turned to get me a glass of water.

In reality, she was hiding her phone, her thumb flying across the screen. Texting Matteo, I was sure. Complaining.

“Don’t bother with the water. I’m just getting my things and leaving.”

She came back over, tapping the back of her head in a pantomime of forgetfulness. “The quilt… let’s see. Check the second room on the right. Matteo slept in there last time he stayed over.”

My stomach dropped.

I never knew he stayed overnight at her place.

As I walked through the living room, my eyes caught on the laundry drying on the balcony.

Mixed in with Chiara’s clothes were Matteo’s.

Including his underwear.

Chiara followed my gaze. “Matteo got drunk last night and threw up on himself,” she said lightly. “Got some on me, too. I just tossed his clothes in with mine.”

It was phrased as an explanation, but it was a clear challenge.

She wasn’t always this blatant. She used to play the part of the innocent childhood friend with no ulterior motives.

Lately, she couldn’t even be bothered with the pretense.

She watched me, waiting for me to call her out, to start a fight.

“Mm,” I said calmly.

As I looked away, I saw Matteo’s preferred brand of coffee on the table, right next to the meal-replacement shakes Chiara liked—the same ones that were always in the kitchen of the apartment I shared with Matteo.

I was calmer than I ever thought possible.

Seeing no reaction from me, Chiara’s eyes flashed with disappointment. Since I hadn’t exploded, she’d lost her chance to play the victim and pull Matteo to her side.

I followed her into the bedroom.

The first thing I saw was the wall next to the bed.

It was covered in a giant, heart-shaped collage of photos of her and Matteo.

Candid selfies. Posed, formal shots.

There were pictures from nearly every year of their lives, from infancy to now.

The one in the center was the largest.

Chiara was in a white dress and a veil. Matteo was in a suit, holding her hand as they ran toward the camera.

If it wasn’t a wedding photo, it was a damn good imitation.

In every picture, Matteo’s smile was easy and natural.

Chiara followed my gaze to the wall. “These are our memories. From our entire lives together.”

I felt nothing.

When your heart goes cold, you go quiet.

All I said was, “Then they really are your memories.”

Chiara looked at me, her voice dripping with condescension. “Celeste, want to join us?”

A humorless smile touched my lips. It was her way of reminding me that no matter how many years I’d spent with Matteo, I would always be the outsider.

I met her gaze evenly. “What’s between you two has nothing to do with me.”

I had no more words to waste on her. “Where is my quilt?”

She clearly hadn’t expected me to remain so calm. Her own smile was starting to look strained.

She walked to the wardrobe and pulled it open, muttering as she searched. “Honestly, Matteo. Where did he put it? He’s usually not so careless.”

“I’m definitely going to have a word with him about this.”

I stood beside her in silence, watching the performance.

She pulled out a stack of Matteo’s clothes. His underwear was folded neatly inside.

Then she looked at me, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Celeste. Matteo doesn’t stay over that often. Seven nights a month, at most.”

“Men need their space, you know? He usually comes here when you’re traveling for work.”

“It’s just easier when he stays with me. I take care of everything for him.”

This wasn’t an explanation. It was a victory lap.

“You don’t need to tell me about your arrangement,” I said. “I’m only here for my quilt.”

Chiara stared at me, as if gauging how much more I could take.

Then she pulled back the blanket on the bed.

Underneath was a pink lace comforter. On the nightstand beside it sat a box of Trojan ultra-thin condoms.