Chapter 95

“Here.” I pass Jenny the sketches we have been working on across the table and the pretty brunette
leans in to pour over them with interested soft brown eyes. Tall and slender and a little shy in her
mannerisms, Jenny is my classmate and fast becoming one of my closest friends, next to Christian;
both of whom I met on day one of orientation and something just clicked with the three of us, straight
off. I have something real with these two and despite myself, they have both wormed their way under
my self-defense system over the last few weeks until I simply need them around me to function.

Christian is standing five feet away and draping some wild bohemian fabric on a tailor’s dummy to no
avail. All tall and immaculately groomed in his “preppy boy” outfit today. Blonde floppy hair and gray-
eyed, his grin aimed at his two best girls. We are tucked in a corner of the busy sewing room while the
hustle and bustle of the other students around us float this way and the commanding voice of today’s
lecturer. They have split everyone into groups of three this week, to work on designs, our first
assessment on simple tailoring skills is fast approaching.

“I think if we go with this one, it’s pretty much a circle skirt and easy bodice, simple enough for us to
draft ourselves and we could make it edgier if we are clever with it.” Jenny slides back one of the
drawings, tapping a pink floral idea I have been mulling over, based loosely on a trending dress I have
seen everywhere for a new season release.

We’ve been in class for a few weeks now, and it’s been almost three months since I walked out on
Arrick and booked myself into a hotel. Two weeks later Jake found me a cute two bed apartment within
walking distance, and school started days later. Everything swift in his capable hands, as I assumed it
would be. I’ve concentrated on my studies, getting my apartment how I like it, and going home every
four weeks to see my family. It’s been hard, far worse than even I could envision a life without him
would be, but I’m doing it; day by day I’m still breathing, still fighting and not falling to a watery end like I
thought I would.

I can live an Arry free life.



For the most part, I can push down the empty ache that I know is him, focus on work and blank the
need to bring his name up in my cell every day. I deleted all our pictures on my phone, so I don’t have
the memories of his smile, those hazel eyes or that gorgeous face. He made me hate him for a moment
… then I shut down the parts of my soul that he’s entwined with and blocked him out. It’s better this
way.

Arrick has been a missing chasm in my life, but it seems both of us concluded that we shouldn’t contact
one another. A real wall of silence at last and even Jake avoids mentioning him when I see him at our
fortnightly lunch date. He knows how I feel, how much I don’t want to know how he’s getting on and
how angry I still am that he could just throw me away like I never meant a thing to him. I feel like I never
really knew him, if this is how he can treat me, after everything I was supposed to mean to him. He told
me I was a part of him, and yet he let me go as if I meant nothing.

It hurts a lot more than I thought it would, considering he told me that life sucked without me and yet
here we are, three months of no Arry … no calls, no texts, and no chance encounters, despite living
close to one another. I guess I haven’t tried to reach out to him either, but then why would I? He made it
clear that night that she was his future, there was no way around the fact that I couldn’t be, and I’m
learning how to live with a broken heart that will eventually go away.

He seems to plan his trips home when he knows I won’t be in the Hamptons, so I guess he relies on
Jake for that, seeing as I fly home with him once a month. To date, I haven’t run into him in passing in
the city either. Not that it’s a surprise. I’ve kept my head down and left the party animal in me behind,
and apart from the occasional party, Arrick never used to really travel in same circles as me. His fight
career and Carrero Corp means he is never going to be randomly traipsing the city or any women’s
fashion stores. I’m just focusing on the future I want for myself and finally feel in more control of some
aspects of my life.

I’m doing it … growing up all by myself.



I go home at the end of the day and spend time, either with my new-found two best friends, watching
movies, or working in my custom made sewing room, where I’m finding so much joy nowadays. Eating,
breathing and living the life of a fashion student and compiling an impressive array of mock-up designs
hanging on clothes rails, despite the early days of my student life.

I’m excelling and seem to have a natural talent for this. The opportunities to attend catwalk shows, new
releases and sneak peeks of next season designs is completely overtaking my life. Enough to cope
with the constant black hole of ache that happens when Arrick is a missing part. I won’t let this affect
me.

“Lemme see,” Christian moves over the table to nosey at our group project. We’ve been given the
challenge of coming up with a summer item of clothing to fit the current trend of loose, floaty, feminine,
and floral. With me being the one who loves to sketch designs all day long, I’m the appointed designer
on this one.

Christian leans in close, smelling a little too sandalwood good, as he always does, and surrounds us in
a fog of scent. I squint at his comical expression as he regards the papers.

“Lift the hem up by a few inches and we have a winner.” He smirks cheekily; despite his aversion to sex
with the fairer species he has a thing for female legs on show. I’m borderline sure it’s a fetish and does
not fit at all with his love for men’s abs and what’s between their thighs.

“We’re going with classy and fifties inspired.” Jenny nudges him in the ribs as he leans over her,
making it awkward for her to sit straight. Jenny is the quiet one of our trio, shy and softly spoken, while
Christian is the flamboyant drama queen. The one who eye rolls and huffs, much like he does now.

“Whatev’s. Far too conservative if you ask me!” He goes back to trying to wrap his fabric around the
dummy and we leave him to sulk, giggling at his grumpy stamping and glares cast our way. He likes to



think he knows best, but really, his strengths are edgy and bold design, nitty-gritty and daring. Jenny is
classier and more stylish, while I seem to have a bit of a mix and a keen eye for trends.

“You guys still coming for lunch today, my treat?” I glance up at Jenny across the table, reminding them
of the celebratory plan. I finally finished my apartment and feel like it’s worth celebrating over. My first
steps of real adulthood. No more boxes or half furnished rooms and mess, no more bare walls and
feeling like it’s a temporary home. It’s finished, decorated and adorned with all my little touches. And it
only took me two and a half months of abusing my two besties to help me get it that way.

My parents visited a week ago and really made me feel like I’ve finally found my place in life. We have
come so far in such a brief time, now I’ve regained their trust, their love and things are looking up.
Leila, of course, hates that I have moved here permanently, but she is warming to it and my frequent
trips home mean she can forgive me for it. She refuses to come to the city to see me though,
apparently leaving this life behind to marry Daniel means she has an aversion to ever leaving home.

“Oh, shit, Sophs, is that today? I can’t, it’s Mark’s birthday and I promised him I would meet him at
lunch.” Jenny’s big eyes and wobbling lip dismiss any urge to be mad at her. Her boyfriend works crazy
shifts and she barely sees him as it is. I know they have been having a rough time together lately, well,
truth be told she never actually seems happy when it comes to him. I can’t be mad for her wanting to
see him on his birthday, over my nothing lunch.

“It’s okay, as long as Chris doesn’t bail too.” I lift my brow up at him as he wiggles his very muscular
pert butt our way; laughing at his weirdness.

“I wouldn’t bail on my queen.” Christian blows me a kiss and I can’t help but think, not for the first time,
how unfair it is that a guy as perfectly formed and handsome as him, is gay. When he isn’t being overly
camp and emphasizing it, then he pulls off straight guy all day long and he is always immaculately
dressed. I sigh at the unfairness of life, having found a man I get on with almost as much as “him,
whom I will no longer name”, only it’s typical he is out of bounds.



“Well, I fancy somewhere more upmarket; on me.” I smile his way and he shrugs in return. So not in the
mood for fast food or our usual deli today. I want to throw on the dress I brought with me, flick out my
hair, now that I’m back to rocking blonde and have a sophisticated lunch with my new favorite beau.

Second favorite beau, even if the first one no longer deserves the title.

“I think I know the perfect place, only opened a month ago and no reservation required.” Christian
beams at me with that dazzling, all too white, cosmetically enhanced grin, looking a little Calvin Klein
model with the way he’s leaning in.

“Sure. I trust you. As long as it’s not sushi! I do not like raw fish.” I frown and mock throw up with
fingers down my throat in his general direction. Jenny giggles at me with an adoring expression that
makes her seem cutely juvenile.

“Ewww no … I prefer meat to fish! I can swallow that all day long, bitches.” Christian sasses with a dirty
wink and both Jenny and I eye roll and grimace at his filthy joke. Sometimes Christian is shameless
and just likes to shock.

My kind of friend.

***

I’m trawling my phone messages after we finish eating, my sister reminding me of her anniversary party
this coming month. Leila has been married only three years, but this is an annual event that no one
misses if they want to remain physically unharmed. Sort of the highlight to everyone’s year, and a
chance to glam up and get the party groove on. I reply, informing her I’ll be coming with two guests,
Jenny and Christian, as they have promised to be my strength at a party, I know he will be at. Even the
Carreros never miss Leila’s parties, what with the two families being almost family in themselves and
the last thing I need is to rock up alone and come face to face with the dream couple acting like they
never knew me at all.



Yeah, that won’t be awkward at all. Or painful in the slightest!

“You done, kitten?” Christian’s smiling my way, throwing down his napkin after settling the bill, despite
all my pre-warning that this was on me. He’s a sneaky boy, always diving in with that damn chivalry that
I used to love so much on someone else. It irks me right now.

“Hey, I said I was paying!” I protest as I spy the receipt on the plate, but he only grins back devilishly.
Christian’s family is much like mine in that I never want for anything. Well off, and generous to a fault;
both of us come from wealthy homes and have more than comfortable allowances to live on.

“I pay for my girls.” He smiles again but I only eye roll, as Christian likes to imply constantly that Jenny
and I are his “women” although we all know he has been secretly dating a senior fashion student a
couple of years above us, who has not quite come out of the closet yet. James is his blue-eyed boy
with a severe fear of being “outed”.

Christian holds his hand out to me as he slides from the table, impeccably dressed in jeans and a
button-down that only emphasize his toned body. He’s not overly tall for a guy, around five feet ten, but
he’s perfectly proportioned and muscular with it. I take it graciously and let him pull me out to his side,
keeping our fingers entwined. Christian is a very affectionate soul, he loves nothing more than
manhandling Jenny and me constantly, and likes to walk everywhere arm in arm, or hand in hand,
usually with one of us on each side. He reminds me of Arrick in that way and I’m forever trying to stop
myself making that connection.

“Is my princess ready to go?” He glances down at my chair, checking I have everything as I nod with a
huge smile. Christian always makes me feel like smiling, he’s one of those friends who put sunshine in
your day, by just by being there. Always the gentleman, and a lot of lovely. When he’s not being an
overly dramatic nightmare of a queen, of course.



“I am.” I giggle at him, as he tugs me against him to settle my arm in his like an old biddy and links
fingers loosely, ready to walk out of the restaurant. He moves the chair aside and guides me with him
towards the door, away from our table and onto the wide walkaway that is clear up the center.

“Sophie?” A male voice halts me from behind, my body bristling at the familiarity of it, the undeniable
tone and hoarse sexiness, sends my stomach into an instant nosedive, nerves immediately tingling. I
can barely conceal my reaction, tensing on Christian’s arm as I wince in something similar to pain. I
turn towards the source impulsively, heart thudding heavily, even though every part of me tells me to
walk away.

My heart pounding like it’s gone into shock as I turn slowly, tense and scared at what I know will hurt
worse to see. Months of nothing at all and the one day he’s been plaguing my head mercilessly, more
than any other day, he physically appears.

Arrick Carrero is standing straight as a rod a few feet away, obviously just arriving with two men behind
him, all casually dressed, and I recognize one of them as someone that he regularly hangs out with.
The familiar face casts a friendly smile my way, a nod of recognition that I return with a half-smile
before bringing my focus back to Arry. I don’t know how to react, so grip Christian fingers harder, as
though to beg him to help me. He squeezes them back silently. His little show of support.

“Hi.” I breathe weakly, unable to hold the gaze of those perfect hazel eyes, in that all too flawless and
clean-shaven face. Not a thing about his appearance has changed in anyway and he’s still as
devastating to my soul. He looks like the guy I miss, in every single little tiny way and it only hurts me
irreversibly that he seems so normal and unaffected by finally seeing me again. There is definite
weirdness, uncertainty in how I should act, and I feel like I don’t know him anymore. My heart playing
the rhumba and my legs go weak as blood courses to my heart in stupendous fashion. Physically I’m
dying, outwardly I am still and cool like he always was.



Christian lets go of my arm, unhooks his fingers, and slings a supportive arm around my shoulders. He
knows who Arrick Carrero is; any hot-blooded admirer of gorgeous men in the whole of New York
knows who he is, and he knows the backstory between Arrick and I only too well. A night of wine and
movies ended up with my sobbing my heart out and confessing the whole sorry story to the two of them
at stupid o’clock one Saturday night. They know every single detail and decided he should earn the
crown of “idiot of the century” for letting me go.

Arrick narrows his eyes a fraction, a slight tension to his jaw as he tries not to run his eyes over the way
Christian is draped around me, I see the subtle tells. Not sure how to take it at all. Not sure I should
even care if he doesn’t like it. I owe him nothing anymore.

He hurt you remember. Discarded you like you meant nothing.

“How have you been?” He clears his throat as his two companions wander off further in the direction of
their table, leaving him alone with us. It’s wholly awkward, and I resist the urge to fidget, aware of the
way my heart and soul start to quiver at his mere presence and alert me to the fact that three months
have not changed a whole lot between us. I clearly still fall to pieces at the sight of him, my heart
aching, and the sudden sadness of realizing I still love him hits me in the gut. No matter how many
times I’ve told myself I’ll never need him again, never want to… Here we are.

He looks like him; flawlessly pulled together, emotionally cool and stunning as he always was. Hair
spiked on top and lighter in color, freshly cut, clean-shaven, while those hazel eyes are a lot greener
today. Then I guess seeing me would maybe stress him out, especially if he swore to Natasha he
would never have anything to do with me again. He doesn’t go back on his word, ever.

Well, unless it comes to me. I guess promises made to me don’t mean anything when it came to her.

“I’m good, just getting on, and you know? … I have school.” I answer unsurely, lost for words, my voice
noticeably young. Christian seems to sense my unease and leans past, extending a hand. I almost



forgot he was draped around me, only seeing Arrick in this place, as though everyone and everything
else faded into non-existence.

“Hi, I’m Christian, Sophie’s told me about you being childhood besties, and I have to say I’m an admirer
of your fighting skills, Arrick. I see you had another knockout victory two weeks back, against Tiger
Marse.” Christian lays on the straight guy act super thickly and I cringe inwardly. I hate when he plays
the macho guy, it doesn’t suit him.

Arrick regards his outstretched hand a moment and I really think he might just ignore it, he seems
strangely torn before shaking it firmly, and a little too firmly judging by Christian’s tensing body. I note
the way both have gone into guy mode, voices a tad huskier and mannerisms a little more rugged, like
an alpha male tug of war, or some nonsense. I don’t get it at all, but Christian seems to be in the zone
with his play pretend and pulls his hand back to his side.

“Thanks. Nice to meet you, Christian.” Arrick goes to say more, but one of his friends calls on him,
making him look back with a frown. He turns back with an unreadable expression and there’s another
awkward pause between the three of us as his eyes take me in quickly. His gaze travels over me as
though his hands skimmed me instead and every part of me warms crazily. Standing in my floral dress
and dainty flats, completely vulnerable to him. I know I must look different from the last time he saw
me. I’ve found a new girly style again, with floaty short dresses and sweet shrugs, that are not so
severe as the glamour chic that Camilla inspired. My hair is longer and softer in its grown out, stripped
back to blonde, light bob style, and my makeup is natural.

“You look good Sophs. You always were more beautiful as a blonde. I like this on you, the sweet girl
look … It’s more you.” His eyes come to rest on my hair, a steady look that translates so much, yet so
little, and it only deepens the heavy feeling in my heart to an almost unbearable level.

“Thanks. You too. I mean … you look good.” I blush shyly, looking down at my hands as the emotion in
my throat builds up to choke me. The man nearby, the unfamiliar one, calls on Arrick again and this



time Arry signals at him to wait another two minutes with a hand gesture. He turns back to me, all but
ignoring Christian’s presence. Christian is being strangely silent for a guy who normally never shuts up.

“I need to go, Sophs; are you going to Leila’s party?” Arrick seems rooted to the spot as if he has no
intention of moving, but Christian is quick off the mark, sensing my growing inability to function the
longer we stand here. I’m literally getting quieter and more nervous, unsure how to talk to him as my
throat closes on me. My body starting to tremble subtly, and I’m pretty sure I’m losing the use of my
legs. This extreme physical reaction only happens with him, and I hate that he still has this effect on
me.

“We sure will be, won’t we sweetheart? Can’t wait to meet Daniel, and of course, Leila. Her parents
have told me she’s the family fireball.” Christian squeezes my shoulders and I throw him a mild frown. I
know what he’s doing and I’m not sure I like it. Arrick looks away, again his cool unreadable facade
back in place, that tiny muscle in his jaw making the tiniest of movements. A little Arrick tell that he’s
not as unaffected as he likes to pretend. The master of indifference is back and even feeling this
estranged from him, I can still sense some of his moods.

“Guess I’ll see you both there then.” Arrick smiles my way tightly, eyes locking briefly and it’s like a
thunderbolt to my heart. That devastating half-smile that can crush souls with a tiny flash, dimples
hinting, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks somehow deflated. I wonder if life with Natasha is back
to what it once was, seeing as this is how he always used to seem with her. I guess the lack of my
problematic self means he has everything back under control and boringly normal.

Just how he wanted it, right?

“Guess you will.” I smile quickly, my face tenses because it’s completely unnatural and look down,
away from that gaze with a heavy sigh. It’s beyond me how one person can affect every single tiny part
of you with the littlest of efforts.



“I better go before they start kicking off and eating the tablecloths.” He motions casually towards his
two friends at a nearby table and I nod, my stomach twisting in two. Hating that he still makes me feel
this way and wishing I hadn’t seen him again, but at the same time, wishing I was alone, wishing he
hadn’t thought Christian was my boyfriend and he would have given me an old Arrick hug, like the old
days to wipe the slate clean. I can’t deny that seeing him has only emphasized how much I miss him,
how much I would have him back, even as friends, because this distance is worse than hell. Seeing
him only reminds me of how much I still need him, and it hurts more than any pain I ever knew I could
feel. I’m torn, knowing we should leave, but my feet don’t want to move. It’s like my brain desperately
wants to cling to him in any way it can, even if he did rip my heart out.

God, I am so pathetic.

“I suppose, bye, then.” I answer softly, close to tears. I let Christian tug me away, obviously realizing
that I can’t do it myself, throwing a casual wave and smile and acting like he owns me as Arrick
watches me go. Throwing me one last look as our eyes connect, and for a mere second, I swear I
catch a hint of raw unguarded regret and a subtle sigh. Arrick looks hurt, maybe. His eyes lose focus
on me, his brows dip for a moment as he frowns and seems to lose that façade momentarily, a slight
sag in his posture, but then it’s gone, and I’m being ushered out of the restaurant by Christian and into
the afternoon sun and fresh zingy air.

“He’s far sexier in person. Damn, I would tap that ass if he played for my field.” Christian cuts into my
thoughts of imprinting Arrick’s voice and face to memory, whether I want to or not, placing a hand over
his heart dramatically.

“You better cut that out if you’re still trying to convince him I’m your bitch, Chris. You’re looking
decidedly camp right now.” I throw him an eyebrow lift and he smiles cheekily. I don’t know whether I’m
scolding him or light-heartedly telling him off, I’m so confused about how I should feel over Arry thinking
Christian is my beau. I’m still reeling from the shock of seeing him and not sure how I should feel in
general. I need to get away from the restaurant, so I can think.



“You mad at me, princess?” He hauls me into his chest and wraps his arms around my head before
planting a kiss on top of it. I struggle free, borderline suffocating and having my face squished into
oblivion, aware of the fact that we are still in front of the huge windows of the eatery and Arrick can
most likely still see us from wherever he is. I try not to make it obvious that I’m untangling myself and
pushing him off. Heaving breaths in and rubbing my poor face in the process.

“Why let him think that you and I are together?” I pout, obviously irritated, rubbing the bridge of my
nose as he leans in and plants an apologetic kiss on the tip of it with a smile and a wink.

“Because, my love, if that guy has any sense at all, then the green-eyed goddess we call jealousy will
be poking his gorgeous pride. I could smell the regret swarming off him in droves when he caught sight
of my sexy girl.” Christian catches my hand and twirls me under his arm, almost colliding with people
on the sidewalk who are innocently strolling by and setting me off balance. I giggle and shove him
playfully in the chest, caught in his arms as he rights me again.

“You are a bad boy!” I chide with a genuine smile, losing my doubts and falling into Christian’s constant
good mood. He’s eternally playful, sinfully naughty and yet somehow always seems to get away with it.

“Oooh, say it again, I like it when you say it all sexy and pretend to be mad. If I was into girls then I
would totally do you when you call me that.” Christian leans in and plants a kiss on my cheek, ruffling
my hair and smacking my ass as he pushes me ahead of him to head back to school. It’s only two
blocks away and the mild weather means it’s a pleasant walk, no cab required when it’s a perfect mild
day like this afternoon is. Christian takes my arm in his, his expression dropping to become serious and
he eyes me reflectively.

“How was it though? Seeing him again, after so long?” He squeezes my arm reassuringly.

“Hard. Awful.” I swallow down the weird lump that started with the sound of his voice and grew when I
laid eyes on him, heating my belly to insane levels. “Much harder than I thought it would be … I still



love him.” I sigh sadly, pushing it all back down behind that wall of indifference as hard as I can and
almost succeeding. Christian frowns at me, dropping my arm and pulling me close with a consoling
squeeze around my back, hugging me in like the best friend he is.

“I know baby girl. It’s his loss. He should have seen what was right in front of him and grabbed on with
both hands, because you are worth grabbing onto, Sophie. You will find someone who adores the
ground you walk on, and you’ll get over him one day, I promise.” Christian nudges my shoulder with his
and gives me a sympathetic half-smile. He knows this story well enough to know that I do not like
talking about this, that I like to appear always in control and emotionally undamaged.

My mask of strength.

“I’ll hold you to that.” I sigh dejectedly and carry on walking, looking ahead so I don’t have to see him
studying my expression. My heart calming to its previous steady beat, although I can’t dislodge how
good he looked from my mind’s eye, or how he sounded, how he smelt. Nothing about him has
changed, and there isn’t anything about him that doesn’t get to me on every level, even now.

“So, do I continue to be your sexy man at this thing?” Christian eyes me seriously but I sigh and shake
my head at him in defeat.

“My parents would only be confused; they already met you and know that we are clearly not compatible
that way. You told my mom about your man troubles, and I have never lied to him, even if we no longer
see each other. I don’t want dishonesty between us.” I turn away from his knowing eyebrow wiggle and
that cheeky grin plastered across that handsome face.

“You still have it so bad. You could have had fun with this and tortured him a little.” Christian giggles,
but I sigh sadly.

“He chose Natasha; she may even be there, so I don’t see how your acting like my boyfriend, will make
a difference.” I tuck my chin down to hide the fact my eyes are misting up with this topic, hating that



even after three whole months, he still gets me upset. That her name still hurts me like being stabbed
in the chest with a dull knife.

“Well maybe you should ask Joey to go with us, that guy has been mooning over you for weeks and
you won’t even go out for a coffee with him.” Christian stops to face me on the sidewalk abruptly,
hauling me to him with a devilish air to his tone. Joey is the guy who lives two doors along my hall, he’s
asked me out a dozen times, but I only ever find excuses to turn him down. He seems nice enough, tall
and dark-haired with grey-blue eyes. I would have seen no problem with dating him months back, but
he isn’t Arrick, and my heart is struggling to get past that fact.

“I’m not ready.” I sigh, looking at my feet and admiring my pink flats with cute sequin details in a bid to
distract my aching heart and wandering mind from tall handsome Carrero men.

“I don’t think you will ever be ready; you just need to give him a chance. Grab a coffee, keep it casual.
You have nothing to lose.” Christian is in bossy mode, eyeing me up with his no-nonsense attitude. He
has an idea in his head, and like a dog with a bone, he isn’t about to let it go.

“I don’t know, Chris.” I pull him forward as a group of rowdy boys try to slide by on the sidewalk, one of
them eyes Christian up with a double glance and blushes as he moves on.

“Nothing to lose, except maybe your heart.” He winks happily, oblivious to the passing “hotty” and I eye
roll, knowing it’s unlikely anytime soon. To lose your heart you need to have gotten it back first, so that
it can let someone else have it, and mine is still most definitely in the tightly gripped hands of one
sandy-haired, hazel-eyed, heartbreaker of a Carrero.


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