He Chose My Best Friend, Now He Wants Me Back Chapter 05

He Chose My Best Friend, Now He Wants Me Back Chapter 05

The silence in the car was suffocating.

In Sloane’s mind, the scene at the boutique replayed itself, frame by agonizing frame.

Mara’s shocked, wounded expression.

The bright red gash on the back of her hand.

The sickening thud of her back hitting the wall when Ben shoved her.

And clearest of all was the image of herself.

Raising her hand and tearing off the friendship bracelet she’d worn for a decade. In the moment the cord snapped, she hadn’t dared to meet Mara’s eyes. All she could remember saying was, “She is my child. You are not my family.”

The words were a poisoned blade, and now it was lodged in her own heart.

The car stopped in front of their building.

Sloane pushed the door open as if she were escaping a fire. She didn’t wait for Ben or look back at her sleeping daughter. She hurried inside and fumbled with the key, her hands trembling.

The door slammed shut behind her.

Her composure finally shattered.

She thought of the veil.

A few months ago, Mara had carefully taken it out of a velvet box to show her. It was old, handmade, the lace a soft, creamy ivory.

“This is the only thing my mother left me,” Mara had said, her voice soft with an almost sacred reverence. “I was moved between so many foster homes, and this was the only thing that was always with me.”

Sloane remembered reaching out to touch it, then pulling her hand back, afraid she might damage it.

But Mara had smiled and taken her hand, guiding her fingers to the delicate fabric.

“When I wear it on my wedding day,” Mara had said, her eyes shining with a light Sloane had never seen before, “it’ll be like… my mom is finally there.”

It was Mara’s entire dream of a family.

A woman who had lost her own family had poured every memory of her mother into that single piece of lace.

And today, Sloane’s daughter had destroyed it.

And because of it, Sloane had severed their friendship herself.

“No…” Sloane slid down the door, a strangled sob escaping her lips.

She couldn’t breathe. A wave of regret and panic clawed at her throat.

She had to do something.

She fumbled for her phone, her fingers shaking so badly she could barely unlock it. She scrolled frantically through her contacts until she found the name: Mara.

It used to be her emergency contact. No matter the time, no matter the reason, Mara always answered within three rings.

The call went through.

Sloane pressed the phone to her ear, clinging to it like a lifeline.

“I’m sorry… Mara, I’m so sorry…” she sobbed into the receiver, as if Mara could hear her.

But the familiar voice didn’t answer.

Only a cold, automated one.

“The number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and try again.”

Not in service.

Sloane froze.

She dialed again, refusing to believe it.

The same voice. The words were a merciless verdict, hammering home her guilt.

The phone slipped from her hand.

“Pick up, Mara…”

“Please, pick up…”

She sank to the cold floor, buried her face in her knees, and broke down completely.

“I was wrong… I was so wrong…”

“I destroyed her.”