“I bet you were amazing and also the captain of the team.”
“Yeah?” I arch a brow. “What makes you so sure?”
“Your massive ego and competitive nature.”
“Massive?”
“Uh… huh.” She gives me side-eye, sassing, “Yours can be brought down a notch.”
I press a hand over my heart. “You wound me, angel.”
“Liar.”
We both chuckle, resuming eating. We’re almost done when Arya shifts and clears her throat. “Can I ask you something?”
“You don’t have to ask for permission every time, Ari.”
Her tongue peeks out to run across her bottom lip, as though she’s nervous to ask whatever it is that’s on her mind. Pushing aside her plate, she rotates on the seat to fully face me and softly asks, “What was your fake relationship like with Iris?”
My chest squeezes tight with pain and guilt as memories of the three years I spent fake dating and then last year, being fake engaged to her, replay in my head. Our friendship was genuine and sharing a secret only brought us closer. She was the closest person to me in those years. Then I ruined everything.
Gazing at Arya, I reply, “We were best friends until I betrayed and hurt her.”
“How?”
“I used her to get revenge on Kian. I wouldn’t let her end our fake engagement so she could be with him.” Shrugging, I say, “Now she hates me.”
“Do you miss her as a friend?” Arya probes, no hint of jealousy or insecurity.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m out of her life for good. Plus, I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me. I tried to ruin and snatch away the one person she loves the most in the world and it’s Kian. And it isn’t like she didn’t give me a chance, but I was too blinded by my hatred to listen to her.”
“I’m sorry you lost your best friend,” murmurs Arya. “And I want you to know that if there’s ever a slight chance for you both to reconcile, I want you to take it. I won’t mind or be jealous because I believe you when you say you love me.”
Her utter trust and faith in me renders me mute and my chest full with warmth. It shows me how big of a heart my angel has. Any other woman would ask for the opposite. Even if she had, I wouldn’t have judged her. I would’ve agreed because her happiness and contentment matters to me. That in itself tells me that what I felt toward Iris was friendship and infatuation, not love.
“You’re one hell of a woman, angel,” I raps, cupping her face. “Your trust in me means everything to me. And I’ll never break it or take it for granted.”
She leans into my palm. “I know, Nathan.”
“I do want to be honest about one thing though.”
Her breath skips a beat. “What?”
“If the situation were reversed, I don’t think I’d be this magnanimous.” Feral possessiveness laces every syllable. “I will never let you be friends with your ex, even if they had been fake.”
She gulps. “Oh.”
“It goes both ways. If there’s a woman in my life you have a problem with, you tell me and I’ll wipe her existence out of my life.”
“Fire your assistant,” she orders in a heartbeat.
“Done.”
Her eyes widen when I don’t think twice. Tilting her head, she questions, “You don’t want to know why?”
“No. Anyone else?”
She shakes her head.
