He Took His Childhood Friend to the World Cup, Leaving Me With Their Cat Chapter 02

He Took His Childhood Friend to the World Cup, Leaving Me With Their Cat Chapter 02

Barrett’s phone buzzed.

I could tell from the instant shift in his expression that it was Chloe.

Before ducking into the home office to take the call, he threw a casual order over his shoulder.

“The cat’s been meowing. She’s probably hungry.”

“Chloe said Honey loves pan-seared salmon. Cook a piece for her.”

Twelve years, and he spoke to me with the casual authority of a boss addressing a maid.

Without waiting for my reply, he stepped inside the office and clicked the door shut.

I set my packed luggage to the side. The firm had given me three days to wrap up my accounts and hand off my files.

In three days, I wasn’t just leaving this city. I was leaving the man I spent twelve years loving.

Passing the office, I heard Barrett setting up a FaceTime call.

Chloe’s high-pitched laughter echoed through the door.

Barrett’s voice sounded smug, dripping with absolute certainty.

“Sloane’s been with me for twelve years, she always falls in line. You really think she’s going to stop us from watching the game?”

“She won’t make a scene. Just relax and enjoy the trip with me.”

I froze in the hallway, my chest turning to ice.

From eighteen to thirty, he was my entire world.

I was the perfect, understanding girlfriend his friends always praised.

Even when we fought over Chloe, I kept it behind closed doors.

I saved his pride every single time.

And that pride had become the exact weapon he used to walk all over me.

A cold smile touched my lips.

Barrett, I am never falling in line for you again.

While going through the remaining drawers, I noticed one of the herbal pillows my grandma had given me was missing.

My high-stress job gave me terrible insomnia.

Grandma had driven all the way to an Amish country settlement to get me two custom herbal pillows so I could alternate them.

On her way back from that trip, she was hit by a truck and died.

Those pillows were the most precious things she left me.

Barrett finished his call and grabbed his keys to head out.

I called out to him.

“Have you seen my other herbal pillow? The one from Grandma?”

Barrett paused, thinking.

“Check the guest room. Chloe stayed there last week.”

“If it’s not there, it’s probably at her apartment.”

We had lived in this place for seven years, renting at first before buying it out from the landlord.

I had told him a one-bedroom apartment was plenty for the two of us.

He insisted on a two-bedroom, claiming friends might need a place to crash.

But in all these years, he never let a single friend stay over, not even when his buddies got completely wasted after a breakup.

He always booked them a hotel room instead.

The only person who ever slept in that guest room was Chloe.

And it was always when she had too much to drink.

I used to tell Barrett to drive her home or get her an Uber to a hotel.

Every time, his excuse was the same: a drunk girl staying alone in a hotel wasn’t safe.

He knew exactly how much it hurt me, how jealous it made me.

Yet he let her spend night after night under our roof.

He always did it first and apologized later.

When I kept pushing, he installed a security camera in the living room.

He claimed that with a camera running, it proved he and Chloe were completely innocent.

But the house didn’t just have a room dedicated to her.

Her personal items constantly bled into our space—lipsticks, socks, jewelry, even her underwear.

In the past, those discoveries would ignite a screaming fight.

Now, I walked into the guest room, saw it was empty of the pillow, and walked right back out.

No screaming, no crying. I just grabbed my car keys and drove straight to Chloe’s apartment.

Chloe looked shocked when she opened the door.

“Oh, Sloane! What a surprise. This is literally the first time you’ve ever visited me.”

She smiled, stepping back to let me in.

“I’m here for my pillow.”

Her smile twitched, and she turned toward the kitchen. “Let me get you some water.”

She was typing furiously on her phone.

No doubt texting Barrett to complain.

“Don’t bother. I’m leaving as soon as I get it.”

She walked back out, scratching her head with a look of fake forgetfulness.

“Check the second bedroom on the right. Barrett slept in there the other night, maybe he moved it.”

My heart stopped for a fraction of a second. Barrett had never told me he stayed over at her place.