My Boyfriend of Seven Years Takes Care of My Best Friend Like She’s His Girlfriend Chapter 07

My Boyfriend of Seven Years Takes Care of My Best Friend Like She’s His Girlfriend Chapter 07

The day before my departure flight, Sienna blocked my path outside the office complex.

“Elara, we need to talk.”

I turned to leave.

She pulled out a pocketknife and pressed it against her wrist.

“If you refuse to hear me out, I’ll cut my wrists right where we stand.”

Ten years of friendship meant I knew her too well.

She never backed down from any threat she made.

I had no choice but to say yes.

Inside the café, I looked at her properly for the first time in weeks.

She looked utterly broken, her appearance completely unkempt.

Her once-glamorous long waves were chopped into uneven, ragged layers plastered to her face.

This girl who’d once only worn elegant dresses and always kept herself immaculate was now

dressed in loose sleep pants.

Sienna stirred her coffee and let out a hollow laugh.

“Elara. Neither of us came out on top.”

“No. We brought this on ourselves-ten years of friendship destroyed over one man. Pathetic.”

“What exactly were you hoping to gain?”

“At first? It was to get back at you. You got a boyfriend and pushed me aside. So I got close to

Julian.”

“Then…it felt nice to have someone dote on me like that.And then I craved more. I thought-why

can’t I have both of you? All to myself?”

She started crying quietly.

“Elara, I’m sorry. You know how I grew up. I’ve never gotten enough love.”

Tears hit the tabletop, pooling into dark wet splotches.

A shaft of light refracted through one drop,yanking me back to the past.

Sienna and I.

On the surface, I was autumn-calm, grounded.

She was summer-bright, chaotic.

But beneath it all, our inner selves were the complete opposite.

Her family held old money in their county, her father took multiple wives and fathered dozens of illegitimate children.

Sienna’s mom passed away when she was young. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at

twelve. made repeated suicide attempts by cutting herself.

I was an only child born to working-class parents.

My parents loved each other deeply.They worked tirelessly to drag our family out of poverty.

Freshman year, military training. She fainted.

I carried her to the infirmary.

After that, we became friends.

She told me every single thing that happened to her.

When her stepmom had a new baby. When relatives visited. When she burned her hand baking. When she fell and scraped her knee.

Sienna used to say, “Elara, being around you makes me feel safe. If my mom were alive, she’d be

just like you.”

She showed me laid bare all her secrets, every flaw beneath her tough facade.

I guarded her reputation and preserved her dignity.

Growing up had been brutal for both of us, but we got through it side by side.

There were moments I wished I’d never crossed paths with Julian Cole.

Yet Julian wasn’t the only thing that tore us apart.

It was five years of slow, wearing heartache.

Now, Sienna clutched my hand, her sobs growing louder.

“Elara, you mean a hundred times more to me than Julian ever could. Please forgive me.”

Her grip squeezed tight enough to ache.

Then she looked up, her eyes swimming with desperation.

“You’ll forgive me, right?”

Wealth and privilege had molded her into the kind of cruel person only spoiled young women could

Over and over, she’d hurt me.

And every time she cried, I’d give in.

Like a foolish hen, shelter her under my wings and fight all her fights for her.

If I could keep forgiving endlessly, perhaps I could have gone on excusing her forever.

But I wasn’t.

I pulled my hand loose and eased her away from me.

“Sienna. I don’t hate you. But from now on, I don’t want any contact with you from this point

forward.”

Walking out of the café, searing, blinding sunlight.

Hatred lingers far longer than love.

I no longer wanted to love anyone. And I most certainly had no desire to carry hatred, either.