He Took His Childhood Friend to the World Cup, Leaving Me With Their Cat Chapter 03

He Took His Childhood Friend to the World Cup, Leaving Me With Their Cat Chapter 03

Walking past her living room, I caught sight of the drying rack by the balcony door. Barrett’s clothes were mixed in with hers.

Even his boxers hung right beside her underwear.

Chloe followed my gaze and offered a casual shrug.

“Barrett got completely wasted last night. The idiot threw up all over himself and ruined my top too.”

“I had to toss his things in the wash.”

It sounded like an explanation. Her eyes said otherwise.

She used to be better at hiding it.

She used to swear up and down that they were just childhood friends with zero feelings involved.

Over the last two years, she had dropped the act entirely, adopting a smug ‘believe what you want’ attitude.

Now, she was openly declaring war with her eyes.

She was begging me to rip off the bandage, to drag me into a scene so Barrett could come running to her rescue.

I just gave a faint nod. “Right.”

As I turned away, I noticed Barrett’s favorite brand of coffee sitting on her coffee table.

Just like her specialized detox shakes always sat on our kitchen counter.

I was far calmer than I expected to be.

The lack of drama left Chloe looking visibly disappointed.

She had set the whole thing up, waiting for me to break down so she could play the victim and call Barrett.

I followed her into the second bedroom.

The moment I stepped inside, my gaze landed on the accent wall above the bed. It was completely covered in a heart-shaped collage of photos featuring her and Barrett.

There were casual snapshots, studio portraits, birthday photos, vacation photos—an entire history of the two of them.

There was a photo for every single year from their childhood up to now.

Right in the center hung a large, prominent shot. Chloe was wearing a white satin slip dress with a tulle veil pinned to her hair, holding hands with Barrett in a sharp suit as they ran through a field.

It wasn’t a wedding photo, but it looked exactly like one.

In every frame, Barrett’s smile was effortless and bright.

Chloe watched me take it all in.

“Barrett and I have documented every single milestone since we were kids. It’s our history.”

I felt nothing. When you’ve finally checked out emotionally, the numbness takes over.

My voice was flat, echoing her words.

“It certainly is a lot of history.”

She looked at me, a sharp glint in her eyes. “You want to join us for a photo sometime, Sloane?”

A cold laugh escaped my throat.

She was weaponizing the nostalgia to remind me that I was the intruder.

Twelve years with him meant nothing; I was still the third wheel.

Despite the heavy silence, my face didn’t crack.

“Some games aren’t meant for three people.”

I didn’t have the energy to waste on her. “Where is the pillow?”

Chloe hadn’t anticipated this level of restraint, and her fake smile faltered.

She marched over to her closet, digging through it with an aggravated huff.

“Ugh, Barrett is so careless. Where did he put it? He’s usually not this messy.”

“I’m seriously going to have to chew him out about this.”

I stood by the door, watching her little performance in total silence.

She pulled a pile of Barrett’s clothes out of the wardrobe, including his underwear.

Chloe glanced at me, flashing another sweet smile.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, Sloane. Barrett only crashes here here a few nights a week.”

“Guys just need their space sometimes, you know? Especially when you’re traveling for work, he comes right over.”

“Honestly, he’s just lazy. He likes coming here because I baby him and he doesn’t have to lift a finger.”

Every syllable was a calculated jab.

“Your dynamic with him doesn’t concern me,” I said. “Just give me the pillow.”