My Boyfriend of Seven Years Takes Care of My Best Friend Like She’s His Girlfriend Chapter 08

My Boyfriend of Seven Years Takes Care of My Best Friend Like She’s His Girlfriend Chapter 08

Six months into my Nairobi posting, Lillian and I had fallen into a steady daily routine here.

It felt like the quiet small towns I grew up in-slow, laid-back, untouched by the rush of time.

One afternoon, Lillian was spread out on the floor playing old-school video games.

I finished my shower and decided to hang her laundry from the washing machine on the

clothesline.

She looked up. “Senior,ignore that creep. You can treat me like your boyfriend or your best friend- whatever you need.”

Right. Julian had followed me to Africa.

The expat circle here was tiny, especially among professional workers

We kept crossing paths everywhere.

He’d say,

“Elara, If you can’t forgive who I used to be, then get to know the new me.”

He set out to court me relentlessly

The local gossip circuit praised how devoted he was to me.

Only Lillian kept calling him “that fake-ass trashbag.”

after witnessing this raw, untamed landscape day in and day out, a weight lifted off my chest.

I stopped clinging to the past.

I brushed off all of Julian’s over-the-top romantic gestures without a second thought.

Until that night.

Lillian and I were walking home when a local man snatched her handbag.

Fuming, she bolted after him.

The next second, a cold barrel pressed into my lower back.

Cheap cologne mixed with sour body odor.

A smug voice hissed behind me.

“Missy, don’t move an inch.”

A hand wandered all over my body where it had no right to be.

Just as panic set in, Julian’s voice cut through the dark.

Three gunshots. The streetlights shattered.

Everything plunged into pitch black, and the metallic stench of blood hit my nose.

When the ambulance arrived, Julian’s white T-shirt was soaked through with dark red blood.

On the stretcher, his face was as pale as paper.

I watched his lips form words. After hearing him repeat that line for so long, I finally made out what

he was mouthing.

Elara. Forgive me.

Medical facilities here left a lot to be desired.

Once he was released from hospital, Julian fly back home to recuperate.

He begged me to escort him.

Honestly? I hadn’t visited home in years.

I submitted a vacation request and accompanied him on the flight.

Julian barely spoke for most of the flight.

Until we touched down.

He grabbed my hand, desperation blazing in his eyes.

“Elara, don’t tell me you feel absolutely nothing for me anymore. Does that mean… you’ll never

forgive me?”

His words tumbled out. “I know I messed up.I respect boundaries now.I swear I’ll never cross the

line again. Please. Just forgive me.”

Truth was, for three years, he’d been orbiting around me.

Always attentive. Always helpful.

Everyone around us was moved by his persistence.

Sometimes, even I questioned whether I was being too cold.

But forgiveness didn’t matter anymore.

I simply had no desire to revisit old chapters of my life.

Stepping off the plane, a torrential downpour hit us.

It mirrored the weather the night I’d ended things with Julian and Sienna.`

Three years later, though, I wasn’t the same person.

Walking through the streets of my hometown, I ran into Sienna.

She was carrying a bag of school supplies, with no makeup and plain casual clothes.

Seeing me, her eyes instantly turned red.

She instinctively reached out to hug me, then froze halfway.

“Elara… I’m teaching at a rural school now. I… really miss you.”

I replied calmly, “That’s nice to hear.”

“Three people in a relationship was always too crowded.”

“Now that we’re separate, all of us are doing alright.”