"Who cares about that tomboy?" His tone was laced with disdain. "I have zero interest in her life. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't even want to hear her name!"
Then he smiled again. "Wife, I've got to run. Let's talk later, okay?"
"I'll bring you a gift when I get back!"
That was the last thing Iñigo said before hanging up the video call.
I sat alone on the balcony, staring blankly at the city lights. The night breeze was cool, but my thoughts were heavy—like a thick fog that refused to clear.
Before I could sort through them, someone tapped my shoulder.
"Elaine!"
It was Talia.
She was already dressed—but not like the tomboy I'd known my whole life.
Tonight, she wore a tight, body-hugging skirt and heavy makeup. For a moment, I barely recognized her.
"Talia," I said carefully, "are you... seeing someone?"
I wanted to warn her. The man she was texting didn't seem trustworthy, and I didn't want her to get hurt. But before I could finish, her expression darkened.
"Elaine," she said sharply, "we're best friends, sure. But just because you're happy doesn't mean you can control who I love!"
Her sudden anger stunned me.