Three Means 1

That girl

    The silence between them was thick. The weight of what could have been said was far heavier than anything they could have uttered aloud. The ambient noise of the theater, like the hum of the crowd, the clinking of popcorn kernels hitting metal, the distant dialogue from a preview, it all seemed to fade into the background as they stood there.

    Arthur shifted on his feet, eyes narrowing ever so slightly before he broke the silence with a question that immediately felt ridiculous, even to him.

    "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low but clear.

    Dulce blinked, startled by the absurdity of the question. It was, after all, a public space. She hesitated, her mouth opening as if searching for something clever to say, but all that came out was the most obvious answer.

    "I... I wanted to watch a movie."

    Her response hung awkwardly in the air and his expression softened just slightly, as if realizing the absurdity of his own question. Yet, his posture remained stiff, his shoulders squared, his jaw clenched.

    "Alone?" he asked, though the challenging tone in his voice betrayed the casualness he tried to adopt. The thought of her here, with someone else—Pierre, perhaps—was bothering him.

    Dulce flinched, the question landing harder than it should have and then she shook her head quickly, almost too quickly, like a reflex.

    "No..." she started, but her voice trailed off, lingering, unwilling to give more details.

    Arthur's eyes darkened, his hands slowly balling into fists at his sides. He didn't say anything, but the silence that followed was far more telling. It was clear, painfully clear, that her ambiguous answer had angered him.

    "Baby"

    The voice came from behind him, soft and feminine, but with a confidence that immediately made Arthur tense. Dulce's heart lurched in her chest as a pair of slender arms snaked their way around his waist, pulling him back

    Dulce stood frozen as the woman emerged from behind Arthur, her presence instantly changing the dynamic. She was beautiful, of course she was, and the ease with which she sidled up to Arthur, fitting perfectly into his side heated Dulce up—and not in a good way.

    "Can you help me with the snacks?" the woman asked sweetly, pointing toward the concession stand, where popcorn and sodas awaited. Her eyes flicked briefly to Dulce, taking her in with a polite smile, but she made no move to introduce herself. Instead, she looked up at Arthur, silently urging him to take the lead.

    Arthur, who had been standing stock-still like a man caught in a dream, cleared his throat, breaking whatever trance had held him captive.

    "Céline, this is Dulce," he said stiffly, his voice flat. He paused for a beat before turning to Dulce. "Dulce, this is Céline."

    "Nice to meet you," Céline said brightly, though her eyes betrayed no real interest. "Are you guys friends?"

    Dulce felt her throat tighten, her words refusing to come. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say, and even less certain how to respond to the loaded question. So she did the only thing she could: she glanced up at Arthur, hoping—no, expecting—him to handle this.

    Arthur shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting between the two women. "Yes," he said finally, though his voice lacked the conviction Dulce had hoped for. "I met her recently. She's... a friend."

    The word hit Dulce like a physical blow. A friend. Was that all she was to him now? After everything?

    Céline smiled sweetly, seemingly oblivious to the tension rippling between them. "Aw, baby, that's sweet," she cooed, leaning more into Arthur, staking her claim in the most subtle yet potent way. "Anyway, nice to meet you, Dulce," she added, her voice dripping with a condescension Dulce wasn't sure was intentional or not. "But we should really get going now."