Chaos Palette

13.

Lilith finished discussing the final flower arrangements with the wedding planner, a satisfied smile gracing her lips. She glanced at Ryle, who was on hold with the venue, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Everything settled with the flowers?" He asked, hanging up the phone.

"Yep, they're going with the peonies you suggested, just like Laura wanted," Lilith replied, a playful glint in her eyes. "You have the best taste, you know."

Ryle chuckled, a hint of warmth returning to his features. "Just trying to make sure Laura's special day is perfect."

Suddenly, Lilith's phone buzzed, the caller ID displaying Oliver's name. A slight flutter of nervousness filled her stomach, unsure of how Ryle might react.

"Excuse me," she said, stepping away from him to answer the call. The playful banter between her and Oliver filled the air, their discussion about finalizing their project quickly reaching the end. Oliver's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as he asked, "So, how about we meet at Coffee Brew in half an hour? Polish off those finishing touches over a latte?"

Lilith glanced back at Ryle, whose posture was now impossibly rigid. His hands were clenched into fists, his jaw tight. Deciding to be upfront, she turned towards him and explained, "Oliver and I are just finishing up a project. He wants to meet at Coffee Brew in thirty minutes to put the final touches on it."

Ryle's gaze sharpened, his eyes burning with barely contained emotion. "Enjoy your evening." His voice was low, laced with a bitter edge.

Lilith's heart sank. This wasn't how she wanted the evening to end, especially after the emotional connection they had shared weeks ago. "Ryle," she began, her tone measured, "Oliver is my friend."

He scoffed, "Friends. Funny, you never bothered to mention that before."

Lilith's anger flared. "You can't expect me to share everything about my life," she countered, her voice rising, "especially when you respond with sarcasm and defensiveness every time I try to ask anything about your past!"

Ryle flinched, but his jaw clenched. "You could've been friends with anyone in the world, but you chose Oliver Smith," Ryle laughed humourlessly.
"Open book, remember?" His voice dripped with mockery. "I told you what Oliver did to me, the day I showed you my damn art studio, remember?"

"One month ago!" Lilith retorted, frustration pouring out of her. "And since then, you've withdrawn again, shutting me out whenever I try to get to know you. How am I supposed to trust you when you can't even tell me about something as important as your dead sister?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and accusatory. Ryle's expression morphed into one of pain and shock. "How do you know about..." He trailed off, confusion clouding his features.

"Laura told me," Lilith admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Ryle's response was a cruel twist of words meant to inflict as much hurt as possible. "Of course. Always running to your little confidante with my deepest secrets."

Lilith's breath hitched. The man she was beginning to care about, the one who had shared his vulnerability in his art studio, was now reduced to someone she barely recognized. In a moment fueled by a potent mixture of anger and hurt, she snapped, "Maybe she wouldn't have to fill in the blanks if you weren't so busy drowning yourself in self-pity!"

The words left her mouth in a rush, and she immediately regretted them. Ryle's face drained of color, any residual warmth vanishing from his eyes. His shoulders slumped in a gesture of utter defeat. Before she could apologize, he turned away, his voice a chilling whisper.

"Fine," he muttered, the word heavy with resignation. "Go be with your friend."

Lilith couldn't believe her own words, the sting of regret sharper than the lingering anger. Without another word, she stormed out of the penthouse, tears threatening to spill as the weight of their shattered connection pressed down on her. She drove to the coffee shop with shaky hands and tears streaming down her face.

Despite her emotional turmoil, Lilith insisted on finishing the project first, her determination to maintain professionalism overshadowing the turmoil within. Oliver couldn't help but feel that Lilith wasn't herself, but he decided to give her time. Two hours flew by in a blur of revisions and final edits. As exhaustion settled, and the weight of unfinished business pressed upon her, Lilith finally confessed the entirety of the situation to Oliver.

He listened patiently, his face devoid of judgment. When she finished, a thoughtful silence descended upon them. Then, to Lilith's surprise, Oliver cleared his throat, his expression taking on a serious air.

"Lilith," he began, his voice soft but firm, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

Lilith, weary from the emotional rollercoaster of the evening, looked up at him questioningly. A knot formed in her stomach, a sense of foreboding clouding her judgment.

"I... I actually like you, Lilith," Oliver confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know it might seem unfair, given the circumstances, but I wanted you to know."

A wave of unexpected emotions washed over Lilith. Shock, confusion, and a flicker of something she couldn't quite define. Before she could process his words, he continued, his gaze unwavering.

"However," his voice hardened, "I wouldn't forgive myself if I became the reason you and Ryle couldn't work out. I've already caused him a great deal of pain, and it's something I deeply regret."

His words echoed in the quiet café, resonating with a sincerity that surprised Lilith. Here was someone who, despite his personal feelings, was willing to prioritize her happiness and wellbeing.

In that moment, the weight of the evening shifted, revealing a new layer of complexity to the situation. As she grappled with these unexpected revelations, Oliver offered a solution that left her speechless.

"I'll drive you back to Ryle's place," he said, a hint of determination in his voice. "I can wait in the car while you talk things through. Maybe, just maybe, there's still a chance for you two."

With Oliver's support, Lilith stood outside Ryle's penthouse once again. The pulsating music and laughter spilling from inside felt like a cruel mockery of the turmoil within her. Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath and pressed the elevator button. The elevator doors slid open, revealing a scene that sent a shockwave of disbelief through Lilith's veins.

Ryle stood in the center of the room, shirtless and surrounded by a raucous crowd, his laughter echoing off the walls. A shot glass clutched in his hand, he raised it high, a reckless abandon in his demeanor that was foreign to the man she had come to know. "I miss this!" Ryle's voice boomed above the noise, his words slurred with alcohol. "Should've done this a long time ago!"

Lilith's heart plummeted as she watched him stumble back, colliding with a woman whose arms encircled his waist. It was Samantha, her laughter blending with Ryle's as their lips met in a drunken embrace.

Samantha, noticing Lilith, broke the kiss with a surprised giggle, "hey, Lilith, guess he'll always find his way back to me."

Upon hearing Lilith's name, Ryle smirked and kissed Samantha more passionately.

Lilith stood frozen, the weight of the scene pressing down on her. Without a word, she turned and walked towards the elevator, her heart heavy with a mixture of sadness and disappointment. As the doors closed, she leaned against the cool metal, tears welling up in her eyes.

"What happened?" Oliver asked, rushing out of the car to Lilith, his voice laced with pure concern. Lilith remained silent as Oliver pulled her into a hug, and opened the car door for her.