Chapter 25
“B?” Dylan’s voice cuts through the quiet, followed by a knock that’s just shy of desperate. “Blair, come on, open the door. You’ve been holed up in there for a week. I think it’s time you got out…”
He keeps knocking, not giving up.
And he’s right. I have been locked in here for the past seven days, only slipping out to grab food before retreating like a ghost back into my room. I’m ashamed as well as sad. And the worst part?
I still love Calvin.
Hell, I think I love him more now than I did a week ago.
Pathetic, right?
“I’m starting to worry about you,” Dylan says through the door. “Even your followers have been asking where you are.”
“I’m fine,” I mutter. It sounds more like a lie out loud than it did in my head.
“Oh… she speaks,” he says, a bit of relief slipping into his voice. “Open the door. Please.”
“Go away.”
“If you don’t open this door, I will break it down. And when the apartment manager charges us a ridiculous fee we can’t afford, I’m blaming you. Five… four… three…”
I roll my eyes. He won’t actually break the door down.
But still, I find myself moving. I crack the door open just as he gets to two.
“I said I was fine,” I mumble.
“You’re not fine,” he says firmly. “Come out with me tonight. Just one night, B. If it sucks, you can go right back to hiding from the world and I’ll leave you alone.”
“I’m not in the mood. But… thanks,” I say, starting to close the door again.
His hand catches it.
“Blair. Please. I’m really worried about you. And if you say no, I’m calling your parents.”
I blink. “That’s blackmail.”
“You leave me no choice. Get up, shower, do something with your hair, and let’s go eat something amazing.”
I hesitate. Then sigh. “Fine. Just dinner. Nothing else.”
His grin stretches across his face, bright and smug and impossible not to return. “Nothing more. Scout’s honor.”
For the first time in days, I take my time in the shower, letting the hot water melt some of the tension from my body.
I scrub every inch of my skin, as if I can wash away everything I’m feeling.
I untangle the bird’s nest that is my hair and shampoo it until it’s soft and clean.
Afterward, I smooth lotion over my skin, skipping makeup, but feeling a little more like myself. Small steps.
Dylan takes me to the Italian restaurant where we had our first date nearly two years ago. The familiar scent of garlic, basil, and fresh bread greets us the moment we walk in, and to my surprise, I smile.
We settle into a cozy booth in the back. Warm lighting glows above us and faint music hums from the speakers.
“You remember that night? We were sitting right over there.”
I follow his gaze and laugh quietly. “Yeah. God, we were such kids back then.”
“No kidding.” He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I spent the whole day trying to convince myself you weren’t out of my league.”
“And I remember how awkward it was… until you tried to tell me a joke.”
“Tried?” he repeats, mock-offended.
“Well, it was terrible. But I laughed.”
“Exactly.” His smile widens. “Mission accomplished.”
To my own surprise, I laugh again, really laugh, and it startles me how much I needed to.
“I miss that,” Dylan says softly. “I miss seeing you laugh.”
His words hang in the space between us like a thread.
Then, quietly, “Why didn’t we work out?”
The question stops me. I glance down, tracing the rim of my water glass with a fingertip.
“We were eighteen. New to the city. We didn’t want to be tied down, so we decided to stay friends.”
“You decided,” he corrects gently. “I went along with it.”
“Dylan…”
He shakes his head and offers a bittersweet smile.
“It’s okay. Like I said, you were out of my league.
I figured being your friend was better than not having you at all.
But after that first date, I pictured walking you home…
you kissing me goodnight… me asking for a second date. And you saying yes.”
“But instead, I friend-zoned you,” I murmur, guilt washing over me.
He reaches across the table and takes my hand. I look up into eyes that have always been kind.
And for a moment, I wonder if maybe, maybe, it’s time I stop chasing the impossible.
“I don’t want to ruin what we have,” he says. “But I needed you to know how I feel.”
I nod. “Thank you. For telling me.”
When the check comes, I grab it before he can. “You paid last time we were here. It’s my turn.”
I stand, and he follows. Outside, the air is cool and quiet as we walk to his car.
The drive back is peaceful. When we pull up to our building, I pause at the doorway. “This is me,” I say, offering a small smile.
He smiles back, a little more hopeful this time. “Did you have a good night?”
I lean over and press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I did. Thank you.”
His expression softens. “Can I ask for a second date?”
“Yes.” The word comes easier than I expect. “But… want to come up and get the exclusive tour of my apartment?” I add teasingly.
He chuckles. “I’d love that.”
Inside, I toss my keys on the table and kick off my shoes. I settle onto the sofa and glance back at him.
“Do you mind if we just hang out? Watch something dumb? I want to give this a real shot… but I’m not ready to rush into anything.”
“I’m good with that,” he says, no hesitation in his voice.
Relief floods my chest. We curl up on the couch, a cheesy romantic comedy playing in the background.
“Thank you,” I whisper, snuggling into him.
“For what?” His voice is low, gentle.
“Not giving up on me.”
The next morning, I finally summon the courage to turn my phone back on. It buzzes violently as it lights up: missed calls from my parents, a string of texts, several from an unknown number.
But none from my sister.
My chest tightens. What did I expect? That she’d forgive me already?
I swipe through the notifications and open the Swoon Squad group chat first, bracing myself for the chaos inside. Facing them feels easier than facing what I’ve lost.
Swoon Squad
Meghan
Alright, ladies! It’s time to get serious. We need to pick our first book for the club. Suggestions?
I’m thinking The Billionaire’s Secret Baby, it’s got everything: drama, scandal, romance. I mean, who doesn’t love a good secret baby trope?!
Inès
You mean the one where the nanny falls in love with her boss and doesn’t realize he’s a billionaire until chapter ten?
Meghan
Exactly! It’s a classic.
Inès
Classic is one word for it…
Meghan
Oh, come on! Don’t knock it till you’ve read it. Blair? Thoughts?
B? Hellooo?
Inès
Maybe she’s busy?
Meghan
Busy doing what? Ignoring her friends? Rude.
Inès
Meg, chill. She probably has a lot on her plate.
Meghan
Okay, fine. But she could at least drop an emoji or something.
Alright, now I’m officially worried. Did something happen?
Inès
I was just thinking the same thing. Should we text her directly?
Meghan
Already did. No answer.
Guilt floods me instantly. I should’ve said something, anything, instead of leaving them hanging.
Hi girls, I’m so sorry! A lot has happened, and I had to come back to Paris. I turned my phone off for my mental health. Please don’t hate me!
I hit send and stare at the screen, heart pounding. Less than a second later, their replies start flying in.
Meghan
GIRL. What the hell happened?! We’ve been freaking out!
Inès
We could never hate you, but we were so worried! Are you okay?
Meghan
And Paris? Explain. Now.
You know what, never mind. I’m calling. Right now.
My screen lights up with an incoming FaceTime call from Meghan. I don’t hesitate. I swipe to answer immediately.
Her face appears on the screen, eyebrows furrowed with concern and frustration. “What the hell is going on?”
I groan as I throw myself on the couch. “It’s a long story, but I promise I’ll explain everything soon. Just… know I’m okay, or at least trying to be.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need anything?” Inès’ voice comes through the call. She’s out of frame, though, and I can only see Meghan from the chest up. She looks like she’s wearing… a hospital gown?
I frown. “Where are you guys?”
Meghan doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she flips the camera. My jaw drops as the screen reveals a hospital room. Inès is standing off to the side, holding a tiny baby wrapped in a blanket. My eyes widen, and before I can stop myself, I let out an excited squeal.
“Oh my god! Is that…?”
“Blair, meet Ethan Maxwell Williams,” Meghan says proudly, her voice full of joy. She hands the phone to Inès, who brings the baby closer to the camera.
I practically melt. “Oh my god, what a cutie! When was he born?”
“About five hours ago,” Inès replies.
“Meghan, congratulations! He’s absolutely perfect,” I gush.
Inès hands the phone back to Meghan, who looks utterly exhausted but no less stunning. She grins at me. “Thank you.”
Then, without missing a beat, her smile turns into a sharp, inquisitive look. “Now, spill. What happened? Why are you back in Paris? Did you and Calvin break up?”
“Meg, you just gave birth. I can call back later,” I say.
She waves me off. “Trust me, I’m fine. Justin’s out grabbing me food, and that’s the only thing I’m waiting on. Now spill.”
I sigh, the weight of it all pressing on me again. “We were never together. I… he’s my sister’s fiancé, and we’d been… messing around for a couple of weeks. But it’s over now. My sister found out, and she asked me to come back to Paris.”
I blurt it all out in one rushed breath, cringing as the words hang in the air. Meghan’s mouth falls open, her eyes wide in disbelief. For a few moments, the only sound is the soft beeping of the machines in the background.
“Meg? Are you okay?” I hear Inès ask.
Meghan blinks, finally breaking the stunned silence, and lets out a low whistle. “Holy fuck. That is not what I thought happened at all.”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “I know, I know! It’s a disaster. Trust me, I’m drowning in guilt. I’m the worst person, and an even worse sister.”
“Oh, honey,” Meghan says softly. “Look, I know I haven’t known you long, but I can tell you’re not a bad person. What you did was bad, sure, but you’re not. And honestly? We all knew Calvin was engaged to someone else… we just didn’t know that someone was your sister.”
That makes me freeze. They knew?
“Wait, you knew? All of you?” I ask in a small voice.
“Yes,” Inès says carefully. “I actually met your sister in Quebec on New Year’s. Calvin introduced her as his fiancée. Of course, when I met you later, I didn’t realize you were related, though I probably should have, given the resemblance.”
My face burns, mortification crawling up my neck. They all knew.
“And, girl,” Meghan adds gently, “their engagement was kind of the talk of Boston. Calvin was one of the most eligible bachelors around. But we didn’t want to pry. We just figured… if he brought you into the group, you mattered to him. That you are someone he loves.”
Her words are meant to comfort me, but they only make the lump in my throat grow. I shake my head, unable to meet her eyes. “It wasn’t love. If it were, I wouldn’t be here by myself right now.”
Meghan’s expression softens further. “That’s not true, Blair. Love doesn’t always play out the way we think it will. Sometimes, it’s messy and complicated. But the way Calvin looked at you? That wasn’t nothing.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s engaged to my sister. And she knows. She knows, Meghan. I’ve destroyed everything.”
“Blair, listen to me. I get that you’re beating yourself up over this, and I don’t blame you, but you’re not some villain in a soap opera. You’re human. You made a mistake. A huge one, sure, but you’re owning it, and that’s what matters,” Inès says.
I glance at her, tears welling in my eyes. “But what do I do now? My sister will never forgive me.”
“What you do now is pick yourself back up. Give your sister the time she needs to heal, and give yourself time to heal, too. And most importantly, forgive yourself. It’s going to be okay, but you have to be patient,” Inès says with a smile.
A small, grateful smile breaks through my tears as I wipe my cheeks. “Thank you, girls. This really means a lot. I’ve never had a group of female friends like this before.”
“Well, you do now, and we’ve got your back.” Meghan grins reassuringly.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Get some rest, okay? We’ll check in on you later,” Inès says.
We exchange goodbyes, and I hang up the phone, feeling just a little lighter, even if I still feel like the world’s worst sister.