When Aria finally reached her apartment, her hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped her keys.
The hallway was quiet, lights dimmed, the familiar smell of cleaning detergent lingering in the air. For a brief second, she considered turning around going anywhere else, anywhere that didn't remind her of everything she was trying to forget. But her body moved on instinct. She unlocked the door and stepped inside.
Chloe looked up immediately.
She had been sitting on the couch, her phone in her hand, clearly waiting.
The moment Chloe saw Aria, she stood up so fast the cushion behind her fell back into place.
"Oh my God…"
Aria didn't need to say a word.
Her hair was damp from the rain, her clothes clinging uncomfortably to her skin, her eyes swollen and distant. She looked like someone who had been emptied out and left behind.
Chloe crossed the room in seconds and pulled her into a hug.
Aria didn't resist.
The moment Chloe's arms wrapped around her, something inside Aria finally gave way. She didn't cry loudly this time. She just leaned into Chloe's shoulder, breathing unevenly, her fingers curling weakly into the fabric of Chloe's shirt.
"I told you to come back early," Chloe whispered, not as a scolding, but as concern wrapped in helplessness.
"I know," Aria murmured. "I'm sorry."
Chloe guided her to the couch and helped her sit down.
"You're soaked," Chloe said softly. "Go take a shower. I'll get you something to eat."
Aria nodded without really hearing her.
She moved through the apartment like a ghost dropping her bag, stepping into the bathroom, turning on the shower. The water was warm, but it didn't comfort her. It just reminded her of the rain, of standing there while everything she believed in collapsed.
When she finished, she wrapped herself in a towel and changed into loose clothes. Chloe had left a plate of food on the table simple, warm, familiar.
Aria ate a few bites out of obligation, not hunger.
Then she went straight to bed.
Sleep came quickly, not because she was at peace, but because her body had nothing left to give.
The next morning, Aria woke up staring at the ceiling.
She didn't move.
The room was quiet except for the distant hum of the city outside. Light slipped through the curtains, illuminating dust particles floating lazily in the air. Time passed, but she couldn't tell how much.
She didn't feel like going to school.
She didn't feel like getting up.
She didn't feel like doing anything.
Her thoughts drifted in circles replaying moments she wished she could erase, words she wished she hadn't believed, promises that now felt poisonous.
I should study, she thought faintly.
Exams were approaching. Important ones. The kind that could affect her future.
But the book on her desk felt impossibly far away.
Her chest felt heavy. Not sharp pain just a constant pressure, like she was carrying something too large inside her.
After a while, she heard movement in the kitchen.
Chloe was up.
Aria stayed where she was.
A knock came softly at the door.
"Aria?" Chloe said gently. "I made breakfast."
"I'm not going to school today," Aria replied, her voice barely audible.
There was a pause.
"That's okay," Chloe said after a moment. "Just try to eat something."
Chloe placed the tray beside her bed and left quietly. No pressure. No lectures. Just presence.
After Chloe left for school, the apartment felt emptier than before.
Aria lay there for a long time, staring at nothing, until she finally reached for her phone.
Her fingers hovered over one contact.
Julian.
She hesitated.
Then she called.
It rang once. Twice.
"Aria?" Julian answered.
Her throat tightened immediately.
"You knew, didn't you?" she asked quietly.
There was a brief silence on the other end.
"I suspected," Julian said carefully. "Chloe filled in the rest."
Aria closed her eyes.
"I feel stupid," she admitted. "I don't even recognize myself anymore."
"You're not stupid," Julian replied firmly. "You trusted someone who didn't deserve it."
They talked for a while not about Liam, not in detail. Just enough for Aria to feel less alone. When she hung up, she felt slightly steadier.
Then she called Chloe.
"I won't be coming back to the apartment for a bit," Aria said. "I'm going to my parents' place."
Chloe didn't argue. "Okay. Just… keep your phone on."
"I will."
Aria packed quietly.
Just a few clothes. Books. Essentials.
Nothing felt important anymore.
When she arrived at her parents' house, her mother opened the door and froze.
"Aria?"
Aria didn't speak. She just stepped forward and hugged her.
Her mother wrapped her arms around her tightly, instinctively, the way mothers do when something is deeply wrong but unspoken.
Her father joined them moments later, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"You're home," he said simply.
That was enough.
The weekend passed slowly.
Aria stayed mostly in her room. She read her textbooks, underlined sentences, tried to focus. Sometimes she stared at the same page for ten minutes without absorbing a word.
Her parents checked on her often. Brought her food. Asked gentle questions she wasn't ready to answer.
Chloe called every day.
"I'm here," Chloe would say. "Anytime."
Aria appreciated it, even when she didn't respond much.
On Monday morning, Aria stood in front of the mirror.
She studied her reflection carefully.
Her face looked fine. Normal. Calm.
If someone didn't know her, they wouldn't guess anything was wrong.
"Good," she whispered. "That's good."
She dressed neatly, brushed her hair, and forced herself to leave the house.
At school, the noise hit her immediately laughter, chatter, footsteps, life continuing without pause.
And then she saw him.
Liam stood with his teammates near the court, laughing, relaxed, alive.
Like nothing had happened.
Something inside her twisted painfully, but she kept walking.
Whispers followed her through the hallway.
People noticed.
People talked.
She heard fragments her name, Julian's name, Liam's name stitched together into stories that had nothing to do with the truth.
"She jumps from guy to guy."
"I heard it was messy."
"Poor Liam."
The words cut deep, but she didn't react.
She kept her head high.
She sat in class, took notes, answered questions when called on.
On the outside, she was fine.
On the inside, something permanent had changed.
And Aria Bennett knew it.