Pretend Perfect

Part 16 - In the Comfort of Companionship

Ella's Apartment...

Once she reached her apartment, the familiar comfort of home greeted her. She showered quickly, feeling the water wash away the exhaustion of travel. After changing into something comfortable, she grabbed her files and laptop from her bag. Despite Zoey's words, Ella couldn't resist diving straight back into work. The project deadline loomed, and all she wanted was to give her best.

Before she knew it, the hours began to slip away. Papers scattered across her desk, her fingers flying over the keys as she immersed herself in the details, cross-referencing notes and checking designs. Time became irrelevant as her focus sharpened.

Her phone suddenly buzzed beside her, pulling her out of her trance. Zoey's face appeared on the screen, a video call coming through. With a sigh, Ella answered, and before she could say anything, Zoey's familiar voice filled the room.

"I knew it!" Zoey exclaimed, shaking her head with mock disappointment. "Ella, I told you to rest! Did you even check the time?"

Ella blinked and glanced at the clock on her wall. The numbers read 11:30 p.m. She winced, realizing just how late it had gotten.

"Oh... I guess I lost track of time," she admitted sheepishly.

"And did you even eat?" Zoey pressed, her voice tinged with concern.

"Not yet," Ella muttered. "I'll make something now. Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

Zoey wasn't having it. "Nope! Don't hang up just yet. I'm still out, and I'll have James drop me at your place with something to eat. Don't stress yourself. I'll be there soon."

"Zoey, you really don't have to—"

"No arguments. I'm coming," Zoey insisted, her tone leaving no room for protest.

Ella couldn't help but smile. "Okay, fine. I'll be waiting."

Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang, and Ella opened the door to see Zoey standing there, holding a takeout bag with a mischievous grin.

"Ta-da! Guess what I brought!" Zoey held the bag up like a prized trophy. "Your favorite... Lasagna!"

Ella's eyes lit up as she took in the sight of the food. "Oh, Zoey, you're the best!" she said, her brows lifting with genuine excitement.

Zoey, in her typical fashion, stomped into the apartment and flopped down onto the sofa. "I know, I know," she teased with a dramatic flair, making herself comfortable.

Ella opened the takeout box and took in the mouth-watering smell of the lasagna. "This smells like heaven," she said, grabbing a fork and digging in. "Thank you so much, Zoey. I really needed this. You're a lifesaver."

Zoey, already tearing into her own food, grinned. "You work too hard, Ella. Someone's gotta take care of you."

The two friends ate together, the evening filled with the warmth of shared conversation and laughter. They talked about everything and nothing at all, the weight of work temporarily forgotten. As the night deepened, their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, the bond between them stronger than ever.

Zoey ended up staying the night at Ella's apartment, a small but comforting reminder that no matter how busy or chaotic life became, they would always have each other.

George's Study Room...

George walked back into his study room, shutting the door behind him with a soft thud. The familiar scent of leather and polished wood filled the air, a quiet sanctuary from the dinner's tense atmosphere. He exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing for the first time all evening as he sank into  the high-backed chair behind his desk, leaning his head back and staring blankly at the ceiling.

The soft glow of the lamp cast long shadows across the room, but the dim light did little to calm the storm inside him. His thoughts were a tangled mess, circling around one central frustration: Caroline. Her persistence, her unspoken assumptions about their relationship—it was suffocating. He hadn't asked for this, hadn't led her on. But somehow, he found himself caught in a situation that he had no desire to be in.

"I can't do this," George murmured under his breath, his voice barely a whisper in the silence of the room. He closed his eyes, trying to push away the lingering feeling of her hands on his shirt, her voice thick with expectation. He knew Caroline had feelings for him. That much was obvious, especially tonight. But he didn't feel the same. He couldn't. His heart hadn't fully healed, and he wasn't even sure it ever would.

Caroline wasn't a bad person, he knew that. In fact, under different circumstances, he might have even enjoyed her company as a friend. But this—this was different. He didn't want to give her any false hope, didn't want to lead her into believing there could be more between them when there wasn't. And the worst part was, Margaret was so hopeful, so determined to make this match happen. His mother, always trying to fix things, always thinking that if she could find the right person for him, everything would be fine.

His eyes opened slowly, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling, and he took a deep breath. He had to do something. He couldn't let this continue, couldn't let Caroline believe there was a future for them when there wasn't. But at the same time, he had to find a way to handle it delicately. He didn't want to hurt her, and more importantly, he didn't want to worry his mother.

"How do I stop this?" he whispered, his voice thick with frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to him. The night seemed to stretch on, endless and heavy.

His thoughts spiraled in the quiet of the room, searching for a solution that wouldn't break his mother's heart but would also stop this painful charade with Caroline. It had to be something decisive, something that would gently push her away without causing a scene.

But even as George thought through every possibility, no easy answer came to him. The night stretched on, and sleep seemed a distant prospect, much like the peace he longed for.