Fragments of Us

Chapter Forty-Two: Haunted

"Sandra, this is Atlas. Atlas, this is Sandra," Milo introduced, standing in the doorway of his apartment.

Atlas reached out his hand, offering a polite smile. "Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot of things about you."

Sandra, however, didn't move. She just stood there, looking back and forth between Milo and Atlas, her expression unreadable. The tension in the air was almost comical.

Atlas slowly lowered his hand, shoving it into his pocket to mask his embarrassment. "Oh-kay," he muttered under his breath.

Sandra, on the other hand, was in complete shock. She knew the name Atlas Hawthorne well-the Atlas. The infamous ex. The reason Milo was curled up on her couch crying over tequila shots years ago. But she had never seen his face, not even in pictures. Milo never showed her. And now, here he was. Real. Breathing. Standing in her best friend's apartment.

"I need... to borrow my friend," Sandra finally said, grabbing Milo's wrist and dragging him toward the bathroom.

The door slammed shut behind them, and Sandra turned, staring at Milo with wide eyes. "What. The. Actual. Holy. God-knows-FUCK is going on?"

Milo sighed. "Come on, Sandra, be nice."

Sandra crossed her arms. "Are you guys back together?"

Milo hesitated, then nodded.

Sandra groaned, throwing her hands in the air. "I knew it. I knew going back to Portland was a bad idea!"

"I know you won't agree, but Atlas changed," Milo said, his voice softer now.

Sandra narrowed her eyes. "Honey, our entire friendship was built on how our exes cheated on us. What. Is. Not. Clicking?" She tapped her temple aggressively, exasperated.

She wasn't wrong. Milo and Sandra had met in a bar, drowning their heartbreak in drinks. They had clicked instantly-two strangers bonded by betrayal. That night had been a mess. Milo had ended up wasted, stumbling and falling onto the sidewalk, crying over a man he swore he would never forgive. And now here he was, letting that same man into his life again.

"Okay, let's talk about this tomorrow," Milo said, rubbing his temple. "We just drove twelve hours from Portland, and I'm exhausted."

Sandra inhaled deeply, then exhaled through her nose, visibly calming herself. "Fine. But you better have an amazing explanation ready for me in the morning."

She reached for the doorknob, then paused, eyes narrowing. "And also-you did not tell me how hot your ex is," she muttered before swinging the door open.

Milo chuckled, shaking his head as they stepped back into the living room.

Sandra grabbed her purse from the counter and side-eyed Atlas. "I made a casserole," she said coolly. "Hope you guys enjoy." Then, without another word, she left the apartment.

The door clicked shut, and silence settled between them.

Atlas blinked. "What was that?"

Milo exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's... a little overprotective. And yeah, she knows about you."

Atlas nodded slowly, understanding exactly why Sandra reacted the way she did.

"Anyway," Milo clapped his hands together, "I'm starving. Let's try Sandra's casserole. She's an amazing cook."

Milo lifted the foil, revealing the dish-a deep orange-red sauce covering tender meat and vegetables. "Alright, so... ribs, I think? With, uh... carrots, potatoes, and bell peppers? Okay, I actually have no idea what this is, let's just eat."