The receipt for the diamond earrings stayed in Elara's jewelry box, tucked under a velvet lining—a secret she was keeping from herself. Every morning, the silver glint of the jewelry box mocked her. It was a physical reminder that she was choosing to look away.
Every time she looked at Julian lately, she waited for the confession. Instead, she got more "thrills." Spontaneous trips to underground jazz clubs where the smoke hung like heavy curtains, mid-week dinners that lasted until the sky turned a bruised purple, and the constant, intoxicating feeling of being the only person who truly understood the chaos inside him.
"You're late again," Maya said, her voice flat. She didn't look up from her tablet as Elara slipped into the gallery on Tuesday morning, the bell above the door chiming like a warning.
Maya had been Elara's best friend since college. She was the "Leaver"—the girl who walked away from a bad job or a boring date without a second thought. She was the mirror Elara was starting to hate looking into because Maya saw the cracks that Elara was trying to paint over.
"The subway was stalled," Elara lied, heading straight for the espresso machine. Her hands were shaking slightly.
"The subway has been 'stalled' four times this week, Elara. And you're wearing the same dress you wore yesterday. Don't think I didn't notice the wine stain on the hem." Maya finally looked up, her eyes sharp and clouded with a worry that felt like an insult. "We were supposed to have dinner last night. I waited for two hours. I called you twelve times."
"Julian had a crisis," Elara said, her voice tightening as she defended her hill. "His sister... it's been hard since the wedding. The family is falling apart, Maya. I couldn't just leave him when he was spiraling."
"He's a grown man, Elara. He isn't a 'crisis' for you to manage. He's a black hole, and he's eating your life." Maya stood up, her chair scraping harshly against the hardwood floor. "You've spent three thousand dollars on him in two weeks. I saw your bank notification on the shared iPad. Are you crazy? That was your savings for your own exhibition."
Elara felt her pride flare up, hot and defensive. "I'm not crazy. I'm loyal. Something you wouldn't understand because you quit the moment things get difficult. You think strength is walking away, but strength is staying when things get messy."
The words hung in the air, sharp and ugly. Maya flinched as if she'd been slapped.
"Loyalty is for people who give it back," Maya whispered, her voice breaking. "He isn't loyal to you, Elara. He's loyal to the 'thrill' of seeing how far you'll bend before you break. You think you're being the Anchor, but you're just becoming invisible."
"I'm not blind, Maya," Elara snapped. "I see exactly who he is. I'm just seeing it through. I'm not a fair-weather friend."
"He isn't messy. He's a hurricane. And you're trying to anchor yourself to the wind." Maya grabbed her bag, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Call me when you're ready to come back down to earth. But I can't watch you die on this hill anymore. It's too painful to watch you disappear."
When Maya walked out, the gallery felt unnervingly silent. The art on the walls felt like strangers watching her. Elara's phone buzzed on the desk, vibrating against the wood like a heartbeat.
Julian: Thinking about that night on the cliff. Wear the black silk tonight. I have a surprise. Don't be late, Anchor.
Elara looked at the door Maya had just walked through, then at the glowing screen. Her heart felt like a bruised muscle, tender and overused. She knew Maya was right, but acknowledging that meant admitting she had wasted her pride on a lie. And Elara didn't waste anything. She doubled down.
She picked up the phone, her thumb hovering over the screen.
Elara: I'll be there. Always.