Something more than friends

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟓

Harper’s head pounded like a drum, the aftermath of too many drinks and too many tears from the night before. She groaned as she sat up, the sunlight seeping through the curtains too bright for her bleary eyes. Every movement sent a fresh wave of nausea through her, but it wasn’t just the hangover that had her feeling sick.

The memories of the night before flooded back, piecing themselves together in her foggy mind: the party, Ryan’s proposal, her confession to Elle. Her heart clenched as she remembered Elle’s soft voice telling her, “I don’t feel the same way.” It was a fresh wound that still burned, and now she had to live with the consequences.

She stumbled to the kitchen, her throat dry and scratchy. Grabbing a glass, she filled it with water and gulped it down, hoping it would help soothe her splitting headache. But the relief was short-lived as the doorbell rang, echoing through her apartment like a cruel reminder of reality.

Harper winced, her stomach twisting with anxiety. She wasn’t ready to face anyone, least of all Elle. But the bell rang again, insistent.

With a sigh, she shuffled to the door, rubbing her eyes as she reached for the handle. She opened it, her heart dropping when she saw who was standing there.

Elle.

Dressed in casual jeans and a soft sweater, she looked the same as always—bright-eyed and beautiful—but there was a heaviness in her expression, a weight in her eyes that Harper hadn’t seen before.

“Elle?” Harper’s voice cracked, raw from the alcohol and the emotions that were still too close to the surface.

“Hey,” Elle said softly, offering a small, tentative smile. “I just wanted to check on you. You were pretty out of it last night.”

Harper shifted uncomfortably, the tension between them thick enough to cut. She couldn’t look Elle in the eye, not after everything that had happened. “Yeah, I… I don’t really remember much.”

It was a lie, of course. She remembered every painful detail of her confession, every tear she’d shed. But saying it out loud would only make it worse.

Elle stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, glancing around the apartment as if trying to find a way to fill the silence between them. “I was worried about you,” she said gently. “You seemed… well, you weren’t yourself.”

Harper bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. Of course I wasn’t myself. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

But instead of saying that, she just nodded. “Yeah. I had too much to drink.”

Elle’s eyes softened, her concern evident. “I’m sorry for what happened last night, Harper. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Harper’s chest tightened. It wasn’t Elle’s fault. She had only told the truth, and Harper had known deep down that Elle didn’t feel the same way. But hearing it had been harder than she ever could’ve imagined.

“I’m not mad at you, Elle,” Harper whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m mad at myself… for feeling this way.”

Elle took a step closer, her hand reaching out to touch Harper’s arm. “You can’t control how you feel, Harper. I understand that now.”

Harper swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes stinging with the threat of fresh tears. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? You’re with Ryan. You’re engaged now. And I—I don’t even know where we go from here.”

The silence between them hung heavy, filled with unspoken words and shattered dreams. Harper felt like she was standing at the edge of a cliff, teetering on the brink of losing Elle for good. How could their friendship survive this? How could they pretend that everything was fine when Harper’s heart was still breaking?