The tension in the air had never been this suffocating. Vivian felt like she was standing on unstable ground, each moment with Julian and Aurora pushing her further into uncertainty. The emotions she had been trying to suppress clawed their way to the surface, and no matter how much she told herself she was imagining things, the distance between her and Julian was real.
She watched him from across the penthouse, his back turned to her as he poured himself a drink. The way his shoulders tensed, the way he avoided meeting her gaze—it was a silent confirmation that something was off. But every time she tried to confront it, he brushed her off with a kiss or a whispered reassurance that felt emptier by the day.
"You've been quiet," she finally said, her voice softer than she intended. "Is something wrong?"
Julian exhaled slowly before turning around, his expression carefully masked. "Just work. It's been exhausting."
A convenient excuse. One she had heard before. Vivian swallowed the doubt that sat heavy in her chest. "Julian… are we okay?"
He hesitated. That was all she needed to see.
"Of course, we are," he finally said, but the words lacked warmth. He took a sip of his drink, eyes flickering toward his phone as it buzzed on the counter.
Vivian's gaze followed his, and for a split second, she saw Aurora's name flash across the screen before he quickly flipped the phone over.
A sharp pang hit her in the ribs. She tried to tell herself it was nothing—that Julian and Aurora had always been close—but her gut told her otherwise. And her gut had never been wrong before.
"Who was that?" she asked, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.
Julian didn't flinch. "Just work."
Another lie. Another crack in the foundation of what they had built.
---
Vivian didn't sleep that night. Every time she closed her eyes, the image of Julian and Aurora flashed in her mind—her best friend, the person she had trusted with everything. The unease had been growing for weeks, but she had pushed it away, refusing to believe that the people she loved most could betray her.
But what if they already had?
The next morning, she met Aurora for coffee, needing to see her face, to hear something—anything—that would ease the doubt clawing at her. Aurora arrived late, looking radiant as always, but there was something else beneath the surface. A hesitation. A secret.
"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever," Aurora said, forcing a smile as she sat down.
Vivian studied her carefully. "You've been busy," she said. "With Paris coming up and everything."
Aurora's smile faltered for a split second before she laughed lightly. "Yeah… it's been a lot."
Liar.
Vivian's stomach twisted. She wanted to believe that she was just being paranoid, that her best friend wasn't hiding anything from her. But the way Aurora glanced away, the way she played with the rim of her coffee cup—it was all too telling.
"So… how are things with Julian?" Aurora asked, her voice casual. Too casual.
Vivian's fingers tightened around her own cup. "Why do you ask?"
Aurora's eyes flickered with something unreadable before she quickly masked it. "No reason. Just checking in. You guys are good, right?"
A loaded question. Vivian wasn't sure if Aurora wanted reassurance or confirmation that the cracks in her relationship were real.
"We're fine," she said, testing her friend's reaction.
Aurora smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Good. I'm happy for you."
Another lie.
Vivian had spent years reading people, understanding the truths hidden beneath the surface. And right now, she knew with certainty that Aurora was lying to her.
The realization sent a chill down her spine.
---
That night, Julian was colder than ever. He barely looked at her, barely spoke. When he kissed her goodnight, it was brief, distant—like he was somewhere else entirely.
Vivian lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing.
She wasn't imagining things.
Something was happening between Julian and Aurora. And soon, she would find out exactly what it was.
Because if there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that betrayal never stayed hidden forever.