My Best Friend Stole My Cheating Boyfriend, I Called It Double Blessing Chapter 08
A few days later, I’d just finished a class and was changing out of my leotard when Lewis called. I
picked up, and her voice exploded through the speaker.
Mode
Select the snip mode us
button.
“Eve! You are so unfair! You were Mr. Carter’s girlfriend this whole time and you never told me?”
I paused mid-fold. “How did you hear that?”
“The whole company is losing their minds. Mr. Carter announced it himself. Oh, and Chloe go fired!”
“Did you hear? Her parents showed up and ma huge scene. Mr. Carter is pressing charges- disorderly conduct, leaking confidential information, the whole thing.”
I listened, unmoved. Late affection is the most disgusting kind.
“Eve.” Lewis’s voice softened. “So… you’re really not coming back? Mr. Carter is like a different person lately. He walks around totally wrecked.”
I didn’t hesitate. “I’m not coming back.”
Right then, I felt a small tug on my shirt. I looked
down. Ann. I hung up and smoothed her hair.
“Ann, nobody came to get you yet?”
She shook her head, droopy, and heaved a tiny,
grown–up sigh. “Today my uncle’s picking me up.
He’s always late. The least reliable person ever.”
Her serious little face made me laugh. I knelt to
straighten her skirt. “It’s okay. I’ll wait with you.”
We didn’t wait long. The studio’s glass door swung open, and a tall, lean figure stood in the frame. He wore a simple black button–down, sleeves rolled casually to his forearms. He didn’t look like the
“unreliable” type.
Ann bounced to her feet. “See! I told you you’re unreliable! Late again!”
The man let out a helpless laugh and walked in. “Sorry, Ann. Won’t happen again.”
I figured it was a one–off. But from that day forward, he showed up at the studio entrance every single evening without fail. He was never late again. On days Ann stayed late to drill her routine, he’d stand quietly in the hallway, watching
her.
After one session, I walked her out like always.
The little girl held it in the whole time and then just
blurted it out.
“Ms. Thompson, my uncle isn’t really here to pick
me up. He leaves work early every day just to see
you.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I instinctively looked toward the door. The man had clearly heard every
word. He froze for a second, and the tips of his
ears turned visibly red. He stepped forward with a
small cough, voice strained.
“Kids say the wildest things.”
Ann pouted. “I’m not making it up. I see you
staring at Ms. Thompson all the time.”
A warm breeze slipped through the window,
smelling like flowers. Something hung in the air
between us–unspoken, delicate. Neither of us
said a word.
A few days later, Chloe showed up at my
workplace. She looked different. Gone was the
sharp, polished woman in sleek office wear. She
stood at the door in a plain hoodie. She lifted her
eyes to me, a tangled mix of resentment and
stubborn pride.
“Ella. You win.”