Shattered Promises

PIPER’S POV

Metal scraped against stubborn metal. I dropped my keys twice before I finally shoved them into the lock of my apartment door. My hands shook. A twelve-hour double shift at the clinic will do that to a person. The endless fluorescent lights, the crying toddlers, and the frantic pace had drained every ounce of energy from my bones. My feet felt like heavy lead blocks, aching with every slight shift of my weight. But underneath the bone-deep exhaustion, a tiny, foolish spark of hope flickered in my chest. I could not seem to smother it.

Today was my twenty-third birthday.

All I wanted was to turn the knob, walk into our cramped living room, and find Nolan waiting for me. I pictured a cheap grocery store sheet cake with a few crooked candles and that easy, lopsided grin he always wore. We had been best friends since we were six years old. I harbored a secret, consuming love for him that I kept buried deep down. He knew what today was. He had to know.

When I woke up this morning, his bed was already empty. I spent my entire shift telling myself he had gone out early to plan something special. I told myself not to overthink the silence on my phone.

I pushed the door open. I braced my tired muscles, fully expecting a sudden shout of surprise. I sniffed the air, hoping for the comforting scent of baking sugar or maybe just a greasy pepperoni pizza sitting on the kitchen counter.

Instead, a harsh, grating screech echoed off the walls. Someone was ripping heavy packing tape off a plastic roll.

A second later, a sharp crack split the air. The devastating sound of shattering porcelain hit my ears.

A high-pitched, feminine giggle drifted from the living room. "Oops. I guess that one was a bit fragile."

I dropped my canvas tote bag. It hit the floor with a heavy thud. I sprinted down the narrow hallway toward the noise, my heart stopping cold in my chest.

Sloane was standing over a cardboard box. She had been Nolan’s girlfriend for exactly three months. A cruel smirk played on her perfectly glossed lips. She wore a pristine silk robe that I knew for a fact Nolan had purchased for her just last week.

At her feet lay the shattered remains of a vintage, hand-carved music box.

It was the gift Nolan had given me for my eighteenth birthday. It was my favorite possession in the world. I had kept it sitting on my nightstand for five years as a physical symbol of his promise to always be my home. Now, the delicate porcelain ballerina was broken in half, and the tiny metal gears were scattered across the floorboards.

I stared at the white shards on the hardwood floor, my voice cracking. "What are you doing?"

Sloane did not sound sorry in the slightest. "Oh, hi Piper."

She kicked a piece of the broken porcelain under the sofa with the pointed toe of her designer heel. "I'm just helping. Nolan and I decided that since I’m moving in today, we really needed to clear out the clutter. This guest room needs to be an office, you know?"

My mind flashed back to that rainy eighteenth birthday. It was a much simpler time. The rain had been drumming a steady beat against the rusted roof of his old beat-up car, but inside, the air was warm. Nolan had handed me the small, wrapped box with a shy, beautiful grin.

"It plays our song. Whenever you feel alone, just wind it up. I’m right here, Pip. I’m always going to be right here."

His voice echoed in my memory, full of a tenderness that used to make me feel like the only girl in his entire world.

I looked around the living room in a sudden daze. My nursing textbooks were piled haphazardly into open plastic crates. My clothes had been yanked off their hangers and dumped in a massive, wrinkled pile onto the sofa. It looked like a burglary had taken place.

I raised my voice, panic clawing at my throat. "Nolan? Nolan, where are you?"

He stepped out from the kitchen. He looked everywhere except at my face.

He was wearing his favorite gray hoodie. It was the exact same hoodie I had patched at the elbow for him a dozen times. He looked smaller than usual today. His shoulders were hunched in a defensive posture as he stared intently at his own sneakers.

He muttered to his shoes. "Hey, Pip."

I pointed a trembling finger at the shattered music box on the floor. "Nolan, she’s throwing away my things. What is going on? Why is she packing my room?"

Sloane stepped up right beside him. She wrapped her slender arm around his waist like a victory flag planted in conquered soil. "I already told her, babe. I’m moving in. Today. You told me it was fine, remember?"

Nolan finally lifted his head. There was no warmth left in his eyes. There was only a weary, annoyed kind of guilt that made my stomach churn.

"Sloane’s lease ended early, Pip. It just made sense. We need the space."

I took a step forward, my chest tightening. "We? Nolan, I’ve lived here for two years. You told me I could stay as long as I needed to get on my feet. I pay rent. I buy the groceries. I thought we were roommates. I thought we were friends."

He sounded like a terrible actor reading from a stale script. "We are friends. But things change. You’ve been here long enough, don't you think? It’s getting a little crowded."

The air in the room felt incredibly thin. I felt hot tears stinging the back of my eyes. I refused to let them fall in front of Sloane. She was watching me like I was a reality television show, her bright eyes gleaming with toxic triumph.

I gave him one final chance to be the person I thought he was. "Today is my birthday, Nolan. Did you even remember?"

He sighed. He ran a hand through his messy hair in frustration. "Does it matter, Pip? Really? A birthday is just a day. Sloane needs the space now. We can't just put our lives on hold because you want to blow out some candles. You’ve had plenty of time to find your own place. You've been here long enough."

A switch flipped inside my head.

The crushing, suffocating weight in my chest did not disappear, but it hardened. It froze into something sharp, jagged, and cold. I looked at him. I really looked at him standing there under the harsh ceiling light. I did not see my best friend anymore. I did not see the sweet boy who used to share his school lunch with me. I did not see the man I had spent years secretly pining for in the dark.

I saw a coward. I saw a hollow ghost of the person I used to know.

My voice steadied into an icy calm. "You're right. It doesn't matter."

Sloane’s victorious smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. She had probably expected me to drop to my knees and beg, or maybe dissolve into ugly sobs.

Instead, I walked right past both of them. I yanked open the hall closet and grabbed my heavy canvas hiking backpack.

Nolan took a hesitant step toward me. "Piper, look, you don't have to leave this second. Sloane said sunset, we can help you move the big stuff to a storage unit or something."

He paused, lowering his voice into a pathetic mumble. "You can leave most of your things here for now, Pip. If you don’t know where to keep them yet. Just take what you need. You can come back for the rest once you find your own place."

The words landed on my shoulders like stones. I was being sent away. He just wanted to do it slowly to ease his own guilty conscience.

The pain was blinding, but I offered a single, stiff nod. That was all the physical energy I could manage.

Nolan reached out toward my arm.

I snapped at him. "Don’t touch me."

He froze in place.

I walked straight into the bedroom that used to be mine. I did not bother sorting through the pile of clothes Sloane had already contaminated with her hands. I only picked out what I would need to survive for a few days. I grabbed a few clean scrubs, my basic toiletries, and my phone charger. Everything else, I left behind. I grabbed my laptop, my identification documents, and the few framed photos of my parents that had not been boxed up yet.

I moved through the apartment with a frantic, cold energy. I was done. I was incredibly done with being the pathetic girl who waited around for Nolan to notice her. He had noticed me, alright. He had noticed I was an inconvenience to his new life.

I walked back into the living room five minutes later. The heavy backpack dug into my shoulders.

I looked down at the shattered pieces of the music box one last time. A thick lump formed in my throat. I should kneel down and gather the pieces. I should take it with me. But what would that matter? It was broken beyond repair. It was of no use to me now.

I left it on the floor. It had been my favorite gift, but it did not mean a thing to me anymore.

I reached the front door.

Nolan spoke to my back. "I asked a friend about a roommate. He’s nice. The place is nice. I can text you the address."

I nodded without looking back. I pulled the door shut behind me, severing the tie forever.

That evening, I went straight to a coworker’s apartment. She let me crash on her lumpy living room couch without asking any probing questions. For five grueling days, that cramped living room became my temporary shelter while I tried to figure out how to survive.

I spent those five days touring apartments that were either wildly expensive, painfully tiny, or downright depressing. By the fifth afternoon, my feet throbbed in my shoes and my hope had thinned to a dangerous extreme. I looked at a basement studio that smelled like raw sewage. I toured a converted attic with no working heater. I needed something decent enough for a human to live in, but cheap enough so it would not bankrupt me. I had student debts to clear up. This newfound eviction was pushing me toward the edge of a financial cliff.

I sat on my coworker's couch, staring at my dwindling bank account balance on my phone screen. Pure desperation clawed at my stomach.

I finally opened the text message Nolan had sent me days ago. I decided to check out the place he had mentioned.

The address led me to a high-end luxury building downtown. It was a penthouse-level apartment. The lobby was elegant, cold, and dripping with money. I stepped out of the gold-trimmed elevator onto the top floor. I knew deep down I could not afford this place. There was no mathematical way.

But sheer curiosity and raw desperation made me reach out and press the glowing doorbell anyway.

The heavy mahogany door clicked and swung open.

My heart dropped straight down to hell.

Kellan.

Kellan Kincaid. The university’s golden boy. The campus hockey star whose arrogant face was plastered on giant banners and local sports pages. The boy every single girl had crushed on at least once during their freshman year.

He was the one man I despised more than anyone else.

We went to the same college. For as long as I could remember, we had despised each other. We weren’t exactly blood enemies, but he was a relentless tease. I hated him for his smug confidence and his effortless perfection.

Now he stood in the doorway, blocking my path. He was completely shirtless. Fresh water dripped from his dark, messy hair, sliding down the carved muscles of his chest and abdomen. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants slung dangerously low on his hips, exposing the sharp V-line of his lower stomach.

His stormy eyes dragged slowly over my exhausted face and my cheap clothes. He drawled out his words. "Well, well. If it isn’t Nolan’s little shadow."

I wanted the plush carpet to swallow me whole. I wanted to evaporate into the expensive air.

I whispered in horror. "You have got to be kidding me."

A wicked grin spread across his face. "You’re here to audition to be my roommate, aren’t you?"

I glared at his bare chest. "I would rather swallow glass."

I pivoted on my heel and turned to march back to the elevator.

His large, warm hand clamped lightly onto my shoulder.

He leaned closer, his chest brushing my back. "Cute. Come in."

I snapped, twisting away from his grip. "Don’t touch me! I’m not stepping foot in there."

He stood his ground, his voice calm and infuriatingly steady. "Then you’ll be homeless tonight."

My breath stilled in my throat. I stared at him. How the hell did he know about my financial situation? How much had Nolan told him?

He murmured, his deep voice brushing the shell of my ear and sending a treacherous shiver down my spine. "Don’t be stubborn, little ribbon."

His large hands shot out. His fingers brushed against my wrists as he grabbed my forearm, pulling me across the threshold into his apartment. The sudden, forceful movement stunned me. I jerked my arm back on pure instinct, fighting his grip.

My worn-out sneakers slipped against the polished, million-dollar floor tile.

I lost my balance. My arms flailed in the air as gravity took over. I crashed down hard onto the cold floor, the breath knocking out of my lungs in a sharp gasp.

I scrambled to push myself up onto my elbows, my face burning with fresh humiliation. I looked up. Kellan towered over me in the expansive hallway.

His sharp gaze flicked downward.

During the rough scuffle, the wide collar of my tank top had shifted. The thin fabric was dragged aggressively down my shoulder. It gaped wide open, fully exposing the pale curve of my bare breasts and the delicate lace edge of my bra to the open air.

The arrogant, mocking amusement vanished from Kellan's face in an instant. His jaw clenched tight.

His eyes darkened into pitch-black storm clouds.