His GPS Always Navigated To My Best Friend’s Apartment Chapter 02

His GPS Always Navigated To My Best Friend’s Apartment Chapter 02

At eleven-thirty that night, the sound of a key turning drifted from the front door.

Ethan pushed the door open, pausing mid-stride as he kicked off his shoes.

“Rachel, where are Chloe’s slippers?”

I sat on the couch, reviewing an internal company transfer email on my iPad, never looking up.

“They were dirty. I threw them out.”

“If they’re dirty, can’t you just wash them? Did you seriously have to throw them away?” Frowning, he walked over and slammed a plastic container heavily onto the coffee table.

“Look at yourself—who are you trying to passive-aggressively punish right now? Just because I didn’t take you out to eat today? I brought you leftovers, what more do you want?”

I glanced at the clear plastic container. Inside were a few cold pieces of Wagyu beef mixed with soggy, overcooked vegetables.

“I don’t eat scraps.”

“What do you mean, scraps? Chloe specifically saved this for you!” Ethan’s voice spiked. “Rachel, stop being so ungrateful. I worked a full shift today and still had to come home and swallow my pride to coddle you. Drop the act.”

“I didn’t ask you to coddle me.” I stood up, cradling the iPad against my chest. “I just think that since the two of you were having such a wonderful time, you didn’t need to bring this garbage back to disgust me.”

“Disgust you?” Ethan let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head repeatedly. “Rachel, do you have a persecution complex or something?”

“Chloe kept telling me how bad she felt for taking up your time, and she insisted I pack this up to make it up to you. She’s trying so hard to be considerate, so why do you have to be so incredibly bitter and toxic?”

“She certainly is considerate.” I nodded, offering no argument.

Ethan let out a long sigh, his voice softening slightly. “Fine, let’s stop fighting.”

“Tomorrow’s the weekend, and Chloe mentioned she wants to come over to watch that new horror movie. Make sure you go out tomorrow and buy some snacks, and pick up extra packs of the sparkling water she likes.”

My face remained completely blank. “The office needs me. I have to work overtime.”

I wasn’t lying. The screen on my tablet had just flashed showing the email had successfully sent.

Ethan yanked at his tie in frustration. “Whatever. Do what you want.”

“Honestly, it’ll probably be more comfortable for Chloe if you aren’t home anyway. Nobody wants to be around that ice-cold face of yours.”

I picked up the plastic container—the Wagyu grease already congealing into a stark white film—and tossed it, box and all, straight into the kitchen trash can.

The next morning, I arrived at the corporate office. Mrs. Higgins, the HR director, looked up from her desk, her face etched with surprise.

“Rachel, are you absolutely certain about this? The Oak Creek project is a core operation, but that town is notorious for being a grueling, desolate assignment. Aren’t you getting married soon?”

“Not anymore.” I pulled back a chair and sat down.

Mrs. Higgins sighed, pinning her signature onto the application form. “The paperwork takes about a week to process. Go back and make sure your current files are handed over properly.”

Walking out of the office building, I pulled out my phone only to see a barrage of angry texts from Ethan.

[Where the hell is the sparkling water? Why is the fridge filled with nothing but plain bottled water? Are you doing this on purpose?]

I locked the screen, leaving it unanswered.

The moment I pushed open the front door of the apartment, a syrupy, playful giggle echoed from the kitchen.

Ethan was standing behind Chloe, half-encircling her in a natural embrace as he stirred a pot of simmering soup on the stove.

Chloe was wearing nothing but one of Ethan’s crisp white button-downs, the hem barely covering her upper thighs. Her bare legs brushed casually against the fabric of his suit trousers without a shred of hesitation.

“Ethan, the soup is so hot! Blow on it for me, please?”

“Look at you, so clumsy. It’s a good thing I have an incredibly patient temper, otherwise who else would tolerate a foodie buddy who only knows how to eat and never does any of the work?”

Ethan scooped up a spoonful of soup, blew on it until it cooled, and expertly fed it to her. He then extended his thumb, wiping away a stray drip of broth from the corner of her lips with practiced familiarity.

Hearing the rustle at the entryway, they turned around simultaneously.

Chloe instinctively shrunk back into Ethan’s chest, still holding a freshly prepared plate of seafood items.

“Oh, Rachel… Ethan insisted on teaching me how to make a spicy Cajun seafood boil, and the hot oil splattered all over my dress,” Chloe stammered, casting her eyes down. “He was terrified I’d get burned, so he insisted I take a shower and change into his clothes…”

“You… you don’t mind that our foodie partnership has moved into the apartment, do you?”

Ethan reached out his hand, attempting to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “You’ve been pulling all-nighters and eating greasy takeout all week, your stomach is going to flare up again.”

“I invited Chloe over precisely because I wanted to use a cooking lesson as an excuse to make a huge, nourishing meal to help you recover.”

But the moment his eyes caught the sheer exhaustion and irritation on my face, his hand froze mid-air.

“Can you stop looking at us with that look?”

“I was genuinely excited to give you a surprise. Chloe’s clothes got ruined, so what’s the big deal if I lent her a shirt?”

“Why does your temper have to be this explosive? Do we seriously have to walk on eggshells just to enjoy a peaceful meal in our own home?”

I stared at the white button-down shirt on her, the top two buttons completely undone. It hurt to even breathe.

Using a meal for me as an excuse to strip another woman naked, dress her in his own clothes, and then blame me for being dramatic.

“I don’t mind. Enjoy your dinner.”

I swerved past his hand, ignoring the sickening knot tightening in my stomach, and walked straight into the bedroom.