She kept going. “But you’re handling it better than most would. I mean, you haven’t screamed at anyone. Haven’t cried in front of the guys. That takes strength.”
Still nothing from me.
Her smile faded a little. Not gone. Just… thinner. “Look, I’m not here to fight. I just want to be real with you. Woman to woman.”
I crossed my arms. “Go ahead.”
She set the bottle down. Slow. Deliberate. “This isn’t going to last. You know that, right? Two weeks tops. Maybe less if Ron gets his way. They’ll do the photos, the statement, the ‘we’re so in love but need privacy’ crap. Then poof. Annulment papers. Clean break. Cal always comes back to us. To the band. To me.”
I felt my jaw tighten. “I don’t want him.”
She laughed. Soft. Almost kind. “Sure. That’s what they all say at first. But you’re here, aren’t you? In his hotel. Wearing his ring. Sleeping on his couch. That’s not nothing.”
“I’m here because there are cameras outside my apartment door. Because my brother had a meltdown. Because your friend dragged me to a club and I got drunk and stupid.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “My friend? Zariah? Sweetie, she didn’t hold a gun to your head. You could’ve said no. You didn’t. You saw an opening, famous guy, free drinks, backstage access, and you took it.”
My voice stayed low. Steady. “I was drunk. I trusted someone I thought was my friend. Big mistake.”
Sydney stepped closer. Not aggressive. Just… closer. “Exactly. Trust is dangerous. Especially when you’re drunk and lonely. But don’t pretend this was an accident. You’re not some innocent victim. You’re smart. You survived on your own for years. You know how to read a room. You read Cal perfectly that night.”
I met her eyes. “I don’t want him. I want my life back. The one you helped blow up by turning a night out into a media circus.”
She tilted her head. “Helped? Honey, I didn’t force you into that chapel. I didn’t put the ring on your finger. That was all you two. Drunk, sure. But you said yes.”
Silence stretched. Thick.
She took another step. Voice dropping. “So here’s the deal. Stay out of his way. Don’t touch him. Don’t talk to him unless it’s for the cameras. Smile when they’re watching. Cry when they’re not. And whatever you do, don’t let that kid get attached. Becausewhen this is over, and it will be over, you’re gone. You and your brother go back to whatever hole you crawled out of, and we go back to normal.”
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t step back. Just looked at her. “Threaten me again and I’ll tell Cal exactly what you just said. Word for word.”
She smiled then. Real smile. Sharp at the edges. “Go ahead. Tell him. He’ll believe me. He always does. I’ve been there since we were kids. Through every fuck-up, every rehab stint, every time his dad called him a disappointment. I’m family. You’re… temporary.”
My hands shook. I gripped the counter behind me to hide it.
She studied my face for a second. Satisfied. Then she turned, walked to the door. Paused with her hand on the knob.
“One more thing,” she said over her shoulder. “Don’t get comfortable. This suite isn’t yours. Neither is he.”
The door clicked shut behind her.
I stood there. Breathing shallow. Fingers digging into the marble until my knuckles went white.
I pulled my phone out. Hands still shaking.
Text to Zariah: “Sydney just cornered me in the kitchen. This is worse than I thought.”
Reply came in seconds: “I’m coming up. Lock the bedroom door. Now.”
I moved fast. Crossed to the bedroom. Checked Eli, still asleep, chest rising and falling slow. Headphones on. Tablet screen dimming. I pulled the door shut. Locked it. Leaned against it for a second, eyes closed.
Then I slid down the cabinets in the kitchen. Back against the cool metal. Knees to chest. Head in my hands.
The tile was cold through my leggings.
I kept seeing her smile. The way she said “temporary” like it was already decided. The way she talked about Cal like he was hers to keep. Like I was a glitch in their perfect little history.
I wasn’t just trapped in a hotel with a guy I barely knew.
