Lost My Love to His Best Friend Chapter 02

Lost My Love to His Best Friend Chapter 02

With that, I turned and walked out.

Panic flickered across Kieran’s face.

He moved to chase after me.

Then Riley’s sneering voice cut through the hallway.

“Nice playing hard to get trick you pulled there. One line and Kieran’s ready to sprint after you.”

“Women overthink every little thing, that’s why I never hang out with girls much.”

“Kieran, skip the group hangouts from now on. Your girlfriend’s always pulling breakup stunts over nothing.”

He sank back into his chair when he heard that.

The door clicked shut, and his voice drifted out to me.

“I spoil her way too much. Break up? Who else would put up with her besides me?”

Tears spilled down my cheeks unbidden.

Twenty-year-old Kieran used to look at me warm and nervous, whispering quiet words.

“I wanna lock you away so no one else can steal you from me.”

Twenty-eight-year-old Kieran said, “Who else would want you besides me.”

I got home and started packing all my stuff.

I had way too much stuff to sort through, and I packed nonstop all night long.

It was nine a.m. the next morning before Kieran finally got back.

He carried a crate of clementine mandarins in one hand.

I ignored him and walked straight into the bedroom.

Minutes later, Kieran stepped inside with a plate of sliced clementines.

“Riley’s baby won’t mess with what we have. I hid it from you ‘cause I knew you’d flip out.”

“C’mon, drop the attitude. Have some fruit to calm down.”

My eyes landed on a fresh hickey blooming on his neck.

I thought back to the social media post Riley uploaded ten minutes prior.

It read: Spent the night with some late-night company, so I made my guy haul a whole crate to patch things up—she gets the fruit, I get the good stuff.

A flood of laughing text emojis lined the comment section below.

Someone commented.

Friend 1: [I’m pretty sure that late-night company wasn’t just some fruit.]

Riley shot back with a giggling face emoji in response.

My stomach twisted violently.

I swatted the plate of fruit out of his hands hard.

I sprinted to the bathroom, dropped to my knees over the toilet, and threw up until my vision blurred.

Kieran stormed into the bathroom, rage clouding his features.

“Wren! Is this how disgusted you are by me?”

I splashed cold water over my face, lifting my head to lock eyes with him.

“You knocked up your girl best friend. How am I supposed to not be disgusted?”

Kieran’s jaw went tight. He forced his rage back down.

“Riley wanted a baby, I helped her as her friend—what’s my mistake here? What more do you want from me?!”

I didn’t say a word, pulling out my phone and holding the screen up to him.

I nodded at the post.

“Your so-called platonic friendship is ridiculous. Do you sleep with every one of your guy pals like this?”

Kieran’s expression shifted, his brows knitting tight.

“I didn’t know she posted that garbage. Riley’s just a loudmouth who loves dumb jokes. If it bothers you, I’ll make her delete it right now.”

“She’s carefree with no bad intentions, not petty like you. She only posted that to fix our fight—don’t talk about her like that.”

I let out a mirthless hollow laugh.

“My words are harsh, but the two of you did looks picture-perfect to you?”

Kieran tugged at his tie, clearly frustrated.

“We’re supposed to get married soon, I don’t wanna fight with you.”

“I’m crashing somewhere else for a few days. I’ll come back once you stop throwing these irrational fits.”

He slammed the front door so hard the framed photo on the cabinet crashed to the floor.

Glass shattered everywhere.

I knelt down, brushed shards aside, and picked up our picture together.

We’d both been grinning wide in that frame.

Kieran’s old promise echoed in my head.

“I wanna open the door and see your face first thing every day.”

Now he’d shattered that photo himself.

I looked away, and my phone buzzed with an incoming call.

A familiar voice crackled through the speaker.

“Wren, I fly back next Tuesday. You’re not backing out of our deal.”

“I won’t. We’ll get the marriage license next Wednesday.”

That Wednesday landed exactly on my twenty-eighth birthday.