When the fear of isolation pulls Ashton and Ria together, nothing can prepare them for the collision. An anomaly shatters the repetitive fabric of their lives, sending them on a journey of discovering themselves and one another.
Beneath Ashton's gen...
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CHRIS IS ALREADY INSIDE.
He's visible through the glass windows of their favorite Italian restaurant. He's sitting alone in a booth, hands folded, scanning the customers shuffling in and out. Looking for her, she assumes.
She holds her breath and steps into the establishment, immediately basked in the essence of garlic bread and tomato sauce. She slips through bustling guests and employees. He sees her. A lopsided grin forms across his face.
Ria's heart pounds. She fumbles with the sleeves of her sweater and takes gradual steps towards their table. Two bowls of salad sits on the table and two fizzing sodas rest next to them.
"Hey." He adjusts himself in his seat and glances down at their food. "I got your favorite. I even asked for extra dressing."
She purses her lips as the most innocent smile warms his expression. "Thanks." She sits down and gathers her eating utensils.
"I'm so glad you decided to meet me."
"Your one hour starts now." She glances at the time on her phone. "Ashton will be expecting me home by then."
Chris' eyes narrow for a moment before he readjusts his innocent smile. "So you never did tell me how your date went. Obviously good since you're still seeing him."
"We're not here to talk about my relationship with Ashton. We're here to talk about us." She keeps her voice is calm and even. Though her fingers drum against her thighs beneath the table.
"Okay." He takes a drawn-out sip of his soda and swallows hard. "So what do you want to know?"
"The woman you cheated on me with, her-"
"I didn't cheat on you." Chris holds a hand up. "I slept with her after I broke up with you."
Her gaze sharpens and she clenches her fist around her fork. "I'm not in the mood for your excuses. Don't interrupt me."
Shoulders rise towards his ears and he focuses a glare at his salad. "Whatever," he grumbles with a childish undertone.
"Her name was Dea, right? Dea Alessandro?"
"Why does that matter? How do you even know?"
Agony gnaws at her chest. "So it's true?"
"Yeah." Chris waves a dismissive hand and rolls his eyes. "Her name was Dea Alessandro or some crap. She was just a fling that didn't work out. I don't want to talk about her. I want to talk about us."
He slides his hands across the table and tries to slip his fingers between hers, but Ria snatches hers back.
"There is no us."
Dea's face apparates in her thoughts. Everything she thought she put behind her comes surging back in suffocating waves. The same woman who looked at Ria in hopes of friendship is the same woman who looked at Chris with the desires of a lover.
