Amanda sat on the edge of her couch, the dim light of her apartment casting long shadows. Her phone rested in her lap, the screen still glowing from the last call with William. She ran her fingers through her hair, heart pounding.
She had always believed this engagement was a strategic alliance—two powerful families binding their futures. But tonight, hearing William's hesitation, the cracks in his voice, she realized she didn't truly know him. Or herself.
Her mind raced back to the diner—the stolen glance, the silent tension between William and Archie, the way William's eyes softened when he looked at Archie. Jealousy, yes, but something deeper, more painful.
Amanda closed her eyes. Maybe this wasn't just about duty. Maybe it was about fear. Fear of losing control, of losing William.
A doorbell from the gate pulled her from her thoughts. She hesitated before opening it, finding Anne standing there, clutching a small bag.
"I thought you might want company," Anne said gently.
Amanda stepped aside, allowing Anne in. "Of all the people who might come, you're unexpected" she murmured.
Anne unpacked the bag, pulling out a few bottles of wine and a stack of old journals. "I'm Anne, Archie's bestfriend. I don't mean to cause any trouble, he doesn't even know I'm here. I thought we could talk. Maybe figure out what's really going on."
Amanda smiled weakly. "You're brave."
Anne shrugged. "Someone's got to be."
The quiet hum of the city outside Amanda's room contrasted sharply with the charged stillness inside. Anne sat on the edge of the plush sofa, nursing a glass of wine, while Amanda paced restlessly near the window, her gaze distant.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Finally, Amanda broke the silence, voice low but steady. "I never thought I'd be sitting here with you. You're Archie's best friend, the one who's been quietly pulling at threads I didn't even know existed."
Anne looked up, her eyes steady, soft but firm. "And I never thought I'd be here, either—talking to the woman who's been part of all this... tangled mess."
Amanda's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Mess is putting it lightly."
Anne took a slow breath. "I don't want to make this harder for you. Honestly, I'm scared, too. But there's something in all of this—between Archie, William, you, me—that feels bigger than any of us. And maybe, just maybe, we can figure it out better together."
Amanda's eyes met Anne's. For the first time in weeks, the weight on her shoulders seemed a little lighter, the loneliness slightly eased.
"You don't have to do this alone," Anne said quietly. "None of us do."
Amanda stared into her nearly empty wine glass, her fingers tracing the rim. Finally, she spoke, voice brittle.
"Do you think... William really loves me?" Her question hung in the air, fragile and heavy.
Anne looked surprised, then thoughtful. "I don't know. I can't say for sure. But from what I've seen—what he's been struggling with—I don't think it's simple."
Amanda let out a bitter laugh. "Simple. No, it's never simple with him. Sometimes I wonder if he's even sure what love means anymore... or if he's just trapped between what he feels and what his family expects."
Anne nodded slowly. "I think he's torn. Between duty and desire. Between the past he's trying to forget and the future he's supposed to have."
Amanda's eyes filled with uncertainty. "And what about me? Am I just a stand-in? A safety net when the past becomes too hard to face?"
Anne's gaze softened. "You're real. And you deserve to be more than a placeholder in anyone's life."
Amanda swallowed hard, the weight of years of expectation pressing down on her. "I don't know if I can keep pretending that this—us, this engagement—is something I want."
Anne reached out, her hand brushing Amanda's. "You don't have to pretend. And maybe... maybe the truth will hurt, but it'll also set you free."
Amanda looked at Anne, searching her face for answers she didn't have. "What if the truth means losing him?"
Anne squeezed her hand gently. "Then you'll find a way to survive without losing yourself."
For a moment, the tension between them eased, replaced by a fragile understanding.
Amanda realized something. It time she stopped pretending and face the reality.