Arias’s POV

The day before Linda’s wedding was nothing short of a nightmare. The house buzzed with chaos—people moving in and out, voices overlapping, instructions being tossed around like confetti. And right in the middle of it all was me—running errands like my life depended on it. My mother, as expected, had dumped all the work on me while Cassandra got to sit back and do absolutely nothing.

I had just returned from picking up the food order from the caterers when my mother’s voice rang out. “Aria, go pick up the flower bouquet from the florist. The order should be ready by now.”

I wiped the sweat off my forehead, barely catching my breath. “I just got back. Maybe Cassandra can—”

“Do you want to ruin my big day?” my mother snapped before I could even finish. “The least you can do is help.”

I clenched my jaw, biting back the retort that burned my tongue. There was no use arguing—I already knew the answer. Cassandra never had to lift a finger, and I was always expected to pick up the slack.

I grabbed my car keys and stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

“Aria! Watch it!” Victor yelled from inside.

I smirked to myself—a small victory in an otherwise miserable day.

—

I slid into my old Toyota Camry, gripping the steering wheel as I took a deep breath. It wasn’t much, but it was mine—the first thing I ever bought for myself after saving up for months. Meanwhile, Cassandra had been gifted a brand-new Mercedes for her birthday despite not even having a driver’s license. The unfairness of it all still made my blood boil.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Gloria. She answered on the second ring, her voice light and cheerful. “What’s up, babe?”

“Please tell me you’re free,” I sighed. “Come with me to the florist before I lose my mind.”

Gloria laughed. “Of course, I’ll go. Anything to rescue you from wedding-slave duties. Pick me up in ten.”

“You’re the best,” I said, already feeling a little lighter.

—

By the time I got to Gloria’s place, she was already outside waiting. She slid into the passenger seat, buckling up with a grin.

Gloria always had this effortless glow about her. Her caramel-brown skin shimmered, probably from the coconut oil she swore by. Her full afro framed her face beautifully, and her nose piercing added a little edge to her otherwise soft, warm features. She wore a jean skirt and a crochet sweater—one she had most likely made herself.

“You look amazing, as always,” I said, pulling away from the curb.

Gloria tossed her hair dramatically. “I know, darling. But I appreciate the validation.”

We both laughed, the tension in my chest easing.

—

As we drove, Gloria frowned at the song playing through the speakers. “Aria, what is this slow, depressing music? Are you okay?”

I blinked, only just realizing I hadn’t even noticed the song. My mind had been too wrapped up in something—or rather, someone else.

Matteo.

It had been two weeks since I last saw him, and for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way he looked at me, the way his voice sent shivers down my spine, the mystery that surrounded him. It was frustrating. I barely knew him, yet here I was, missing him.

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