Eviction Notice

"Dorian, I am a little scared being alone." Nadia's voice trembled against his back. She kept her arms locked tightly around his waist, burying her face into his shirt.

Dorian reached out without a second of hesitation. He pried her hands free only to pull her around to his side, his voice dropping into a soft, soothing register. "What is the matter? Are you not comfortable in a new place?"

Nadia nodded faintly. She kept her head down, acting like a frightened child.

Seeing her shrink away like that made Dorian's expression soften with obvious heartache. "I will stay with you. Do not worry."

Then, as if she had just realized another person was in the room, Nadia's gaze shifted past his shoulder. She looked at Aria sitting on the far edge of the mattress. Her voice quivered with sudden, intense anxiety. "Sorry, I... did I interrupt you and Aria? I know Aria does not really welcome me here, Dorian. This is all my fault. Please do not argue with her because of me. I will just leave."

Dorian glanced over his shoulder at Aria. "No, she is not that petty."

Aria pushed the thick quilt off her legs and stood up. She stared at the two of them occupying her bed, a cold smile forming on her lips. "Do not let the door hit you on the way out."

She had not uttered a single word since Nadia barged in. Yet Nadia kept dragging her into the center of this pathetic drama. Even a saint had a breaking point, and Aria was never the type to just roll over and take a beating.

Nadia blinked, looking genuinely stunned. She clearly had not expected the usually patient and accommodating Aria to tell her to leave so bluntly. Tears welled up in her eyes, turning the rims red. She cast a pitiful, helpless look at the man sitting beside her.

Dorian saw those tears. His face darkened into a stormy scowl. "Aria, you are going too far. I brought Nadia here. Who gave you the right to throw her out? Her depression is acting up, and you are still coming at her like this? How did you become so hostile?"

He turned his back on Aria. He lifted a hand and gently wiped a stray tear from Nadia's pale cheek. "It is alright, Nadia. As long as I am here, I will not let Aria bully you."

Nadia leaned softly into his chest, seeking his embrace. "I know you care about me, Dorian. After all, Aria is your fiancée. It is my fault. I have been leaning on you too much. I realize this is not right, but you are the only one I have left. I do not know who else to turn to. Please do not fight with Aria over me."

Over Dorian's shoulder, Nadia's teary eyes flicked toward Aria. The pitiful act vanished from her gaze, replaced by a sharp, defiant glint. Her lips barely moved, but she silently mouthed the words: You lost. Admit it. You cannot beat me.

Aria had spent the last few hours convincing herself that her heart was finally numb to this blatant disrespect. But watching Dorian jump to his ex-girlfriend's defense without a shred of hesitation sent a fresh, sharp wave of pain stabbing straight through her chest. It was a dull ache that radiated down to her fingertips.

She refused to engage with Nadia's cheap provocation. Her stare turned into blocks of ice as she pinned it on the two of them. "Get out."

She was issuing a plain, simple eviction notice. No yelling, no screaming. Just a flat command.

Dorian locked eyes with her. Her face was calm, devoid of any ripple of the jealousy he expected. For no clear reason, a cold surge of unease crept up his spine. He knew exactly how deeply Aria felt about him. That love was the only reason she had tolerated his repeated broken promises. In the past, whenever she got worked up, a bit of gentle coaxing from him was all it took to settle her down. Tonight, he could tell something fundamental had shifted inside her.

He opened his mouth to say something else.

Nadia suddenly disentangled herself from his arms. She approached Aria with timid, shuffling steps and extended a trembling hand. "Aria, are you still upset? It is all my fault. I am sorry. Do not take it out on Dorian."

Aria saw those fingers reaching for her. A visceral wave of disgust churned in her stomach. The mere idea of this woman touching her made her skin crawl. Aria jerked her shoulder back sharply to avoid the contact.

Nadia let out a loud, piercing yelp. She stumbled backward, her arms flailing in the air. She hit the hardwood floor with a heavy thud, landing perfectly at Dorian's feet.

"Nadia!" Dorian dropped into a crouch. He scooped her up from the floor in a swift princess carry, cradling her against his chest.

Nadia buried her face into his neck, whimpering through a fresh flood of tears. "Dorian, do not blame Aria. I upset her. It is my fault. It is understandable she would snap like that. Do not hold it against her."

With those few choked words, she pinned the blame for the fall squarely on Aria. She had not even made physical contact. But her phrasing made it crystal clear to Dorian that Aria had forcefully shoved her to the ground.

Dorian glared furiously at Aria, his eyes burning with accusation. "Aria, you have gone too far. Apologize to Nadia right now."

He swallowed the pathetic act wholesale. He was fully convinced that his fiancée had struck a depressed, fragile woman, and he barked the order like a boss scolding a subordinate.

Faced with this blind, unquestioning defense, Aria let out a dry laugh. "I did not push her. Why should I apologize? Dorian, if those eyes of yours are useless, donate them to someone who needs them."

There was no way in hell she was admitting to a crime she did not commit.

Her refusal sent Dorian into a full-blown rage. "Aria, you are impossible."

Aria crossed her arms and scoffed coldly. She was done debating reality with a man who chose to be blind.

Nadia tugged weakly at his shirt sleeve. "Dorian, I think I sprained my ankle. It hurts so bad."

Before she could finish the sentence, fresh tears spilled over her lashes. Those pathetic sobs seemed to tear straight at his heart.

He shot Aria one last venomous look. "You had better hope Nadia is alright."

He turned on his heel, adjusting his grip on Nadia, and stormed out of the bedroom. The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them, rattling the frame.

Aria stood alone in the center of the quiet room. She watched his frantic, protective figure retreat, finding the whole display both jarring and bitterly ironic. She always knew how deeply he cared for his ex, but witnessing this blatant prioritization in her own home hit differently. She could not even name the emotions swirling in her gut. It started as a dull throb. Then, the pain receded, leaving behind a vast, hollow numbness.

She gradually came back to her senses. The cold air of the room settled over her skin. Aria sank onto the edge of the messy bed. Any trace of exhaustion or sleep had been chased away by the adrenaline and the disgust. Even when she squeezed her eyes shut, her mind replayed his furious, accusatory glare on an endless loop.

She spent the rest of the night restless, staring at the ceiling as the hours dragged on.

When morning finally broke through the curtains, Aria sat up. Her head felt foggy and heavy. Her temples pulsed with a faint, steady ache. She kicked off the blankets and walked out of the bedroom. The apartment was dead quiet.

She wandered down the sweeping staircase and headed straight toward the kitchen. The morning light filtered through the large glass windows, casting long shadows across the marble countertops.

Usually, by this exact time, she would already be standing at the stove. She would be boiling milk and stirring a fresh pot of oatmeal for Dorian. He had a notoriously sensitive stomach since childhood. Ever since they moved in together, she had taken over his diet, handling all three of his daily meals with careful, scientific precision. She would measure out the exact ratio of water to oats, ensuring it was soft enough not to irritate his digestion. She never actually cared for oatmeal herself. She found the texture bland and unappealing. But she had forced herself to eat it alongside him for years, just to make him feel accompanied.

Aria walked up to the pantry. She automatically reached up toward the top shelf to grab the glass jar of rolled oats.

Her fingers brushed the cold glass. She froze.

She stared at her own hand, suspended in the air. A sudden wave of clarity washed over her. She realized she was still operating on muscle memory, still catering to a man who had abandoned her on their wedding day to play nurse for another woman.

Old habits really do die hard, she thought, a self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Aria pulled her hand back. She shoved the jar of oats to the very back of the shelf and shut the pantry door.

She opted for a quick, simple breakfast instead. In a matter of minutes, she popped two slices of bread into the toaster and turned on the espresso machine. She brewed a strong, bitter black coffee. She carried her toasted sandwich and the steaming mug over to the island counter.

Just as she pulled out a stool to sit down, a bubbly, cheerful figure popped up in the kitchen doorway.

Nadia sauntered in. She was wearing a thin, low-cut silk slip dress that barely covered her thighs. She looked well-rested, a stark contrast to Aria's pale complexion. "Ms. Vance, you are in fine form this morning. I figured you would be tossing and turning all night, heartbroken after yesterday."

As she spoke, she leaned casually against the marble island. Aria's gaze naturally drifted toward her exposed skin. Right across her collarbone, a cluster of vivid red and purple marks jumped out in the morning light. They were fresh hickeys. The bruising was heavy and impossible to miss.

Catching the direction of Aria's stare, Nadia lifted her chin triumphantly. A sickeningly sweet giggle escaped her lips. "Dorian is such a beast. I begged him to go easy last night. I told him no marks, but he just would not listen."

She traced a manicured finger over one of the dark bruises. "Aria, he says you are so dull he cannot even stand to touch you. How sad is that? If I were you, I would want to smash my head into a brick wall and call it quits."

Nadia basked in her own gloating. She waited for the explosion. She waited for Aria to scream, to cry, or to throw the hot coffee in a fit of jealous rage.

Aria did not bat an eye.

She picked up her mug. She took a slow, deliberate sip of the black coffee, letting the bitter liquid burn down her throat. Her face remained a mask of icy, untouchable indifference. She looked at Nadia the same way one might look at a stray dog barking at a passing car. There was no anger. There was no devastation. There was nothing.

This stony silence instantly deflated Nadia. She had come down here specifically gunning to provoke a reaction. The lack of one made her feel like she was swinging her fists at empty air. Her triumphant smile faltered. She clenched her jaw in pure, unadulterated irritation.

Nadia shot Aria a hateful, venomous glare.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of movement. Dorian was descending the main staircase, his footsteps heavy on the wooden steps.

A sinister thought flashed across Nadia's face. Catching sight of Dorian approaching, Nadia quickly changed her tactic. In a few quick, calculated steps, she closed the distance, stepping right up to Aria to initiate her next manipulative scheme.