Bonds

Chapter 87



-Maya's POV-

The disbelief in Natalia's voice echoed in the small cafe, shattering the fragile peace I had found in a steaming cup of tea. "She fired you?"

I flinched, the accusation stinging even though I knew it wasn't meant that way. Raising my head slowly, I met her gaze, a storm brewing in her usually calm brown eyes. "Well, technically, I quit," I mumbled, the gullt gnawing at me.

"You quit?" This time, her voice wasn't questioning, it was a low growl that sent shivers down my spine. I winced again, feeling like a child being scolded. Letting out a defeated sigh, I ran a hand through my hair.

"I had a run-in with Alex," I started, needing to explain the whirlwind of emotions that had led me here. "It was bad. Really bad. And I just... just wanted him to leave me alone. But the jerk, the absolute..." My voice trailed off, searching for a word harsh enough to describe Alex in that moment.C0pyright © 2024 Nôv)(elDrama.Org.

"F*cktard," She offered, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah, the f*cktard!" I exclaimed, relief washing over me at finding the right word, "He twisted everything around, like it was my fault I was in charge of the interior design project. "You're the one coming into my company, be said, like I was some kind of intruder."

Anger flared back up, hot and fresh, pushing aside the guilt. "So I told him," I continued, my voice rising a notch, "Screw him and screw the project! I was done."

Natalia's glare intensified, making me raise my hands in surrender. "I was angry, okay?" I confessed, the anger morphing into a deep sense of shame. "So, so angry when I went into that office. I didn't think things through," I admitted, the deflation in my voice as heavy as the weight ough," la settling in my stomach.

"So yes, I mumbled, the words scraping against my throat, "I quit out of anger when Ms. Edward's said if I wanted to be taken off the project and not able to complete a simple task then she didn't see the need for me working there and now I'm jobless."

Silence descended between us, thick and suffocating. Her gaze held a mix of disappointment and concern, and I knew she was right.

"I worked really hard to get you that interview," she finally said, her voice soft but firm.

Shame burned in my cheeks. "i know," I croaked, the guilt returning with a vengeance. "I know, and I am so sorry, Nat. I really am."

She shook her head slowly, the movement conveying more than words ever could. "It isn't even about the job right now," her voice was laced with a weariness I hated to see. "It's the fact that you are still letting Alex dictate what you do with your life, even though it's unconscious."

Her words were a punch to the gut, a harsh reality I couldn't ignore. Natalia was my best friend, the one person who knew me better than anyone. And the truth was, a part of me, a tiny, stubborn part, had always clung to the hope of a future with Alex. A hope I had nurtured despite the constant pain and drama.

"I know that, Natalia," I whispered, my voice thick with unshed tears. "And I am truly sorry for dragging you into this with me. Believe me, I am equally tired."

The cycle of anger, hurt, and betrayal with Alex had taken its toll. I was exhausted, emotionally drained, and completely over it.

"I don't want anything to do with him anymore," I declared, surprising even myself with the fierceness in my voice. "I told him that much. He can go ahead with his war with my father, they can tear each other to pieces for all I care. I am tired of the toxic cycle we've been trapped in

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ever since i came back. I'm done."

The words hung heavy in the air, a vow not just to Natalia, but to myself. This time, I meant it. I was done letting Alex control my life, my happiness. It was time to move on, to find peace and a future that didn't revolve around him and my family's drama.

Her gaze softened, a hint of understanding replacing the disappointment. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice gentle.

I met her gaze, a newfound determination burning in my eyes. "Yes. I am sure."

Her lips curved into a thin smile, a flicker of relief chasing away the worry lines that had etched themselves on her forehead. "Good."

We sat there in comfortable silence for a while, sipping our tea. Finally, she broke the quiet, her voice laced with a hint of nostalgia. "You know," she mused, "I miss college days sometimes. Freshman year. Things were so much easier then."

A smile tugged at my lips as the memories came flooding back, a welcome escape from the present turmoil. "Freshman year," I echoed, a low laugh escaping my lips. "Remember how terrified we both were?" It felt like a lifetime ago, a simpler time before Alex, before family feuds, before the weight of the world settled on our shoulders.

She chuckled, a soft sound that echoed my own amusement. "Absolutely terrified," she admitted. "I swear I must have packed enough clothes for a year, and half of them were completely impractical."

"And don't even get me started on the dorm room situation," I added, shaking my head. The image of two nervous freshmen staring at each other across a sea of mismatched furniture was vivid in my mind's eye.

"We were assigned as roommates," She continued, her smile widening. "Two complete strangers thrown together, hoping we wouldn't end up hating each other."

"And here we are," I finished her sentence, a wave of gratitude washing over me. "Best friends all these years later."

We fell silent again, lost in the shared memory, Freshman year had been a whirlwind of emotions - the excitement of newfound Independence, the terror of being far from home, the constant struggle to navigate the complexities of college life. My thoughts drifted back to that pivotal first day of freshman year, the day I met her.

The dorms were a cacophony of noise as we moved in. Nervous laughter mingled with shouts of greetings and the constant thump of furniture being dragged down hallways. My arms ached from carrying boxes, and the air hung thick with the smell of new carpet and nervous sweat. I had come all by myself, of course my father paid no attention to the fact that I wanted to go to college.

Lost and overwhelmed, stood in the doorway of my assigned dorm room, wondering what awaited me inside. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open, bracing myself for the unknown.

And then I saw her.

Natalia was sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a sea of brightly colored clothes. She had one leg in a nelegin pair of jeans that looked like they wouldn't button, and her hair, a wild mess of dark curls, was half-pinned up in a haphazard bun. She looked up as I entered, her face breaking into a wide grin..

"Hey there," she basically shouted, her voice surprisingly chipper considering the chaos surrounding her. "You must be my roommatel"

I simply smiled at her somehow knowing unconsciously that I would love her. Over the next few hours, we unpacked our belongings, slawlyn transforming the stérile dorm room into a shared space. We discovered a mutual love for cheesy pop music and a shared hatred of early morning classes. We learned about each other's families, dreams, and deepest fears. By the end of the day, the initial awkwardness had melted away.

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As the weeks turned into months, our friendship blossomed. We explored the campus together, discovering hidden cafes and quirky bookstores.

We spent lazy afternoons sprawled on our dorm room floor, watching bad movies and giggling until our sides ached. We confided in each other about everything the boys we liked, the classes we hated, the anxieties that kept us up at night and then when we had both found out that we shared something more, a secret; that we were both werewolves, I knew I had found my soulmate.

The cafe slowly emptied as the day wore on, but we lingered, lost in the comfort of our friendship. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the street, Natalia finally looked at her watch.

"Wow, I had no idea it was so late. We should probably get going."

I nodded, a flicker of sadness creeping into my heart. The carefree days of reminiscing couldn't last forever. There was still the reality of my situation to deal with, the uncertainty of my future.

"Thanks, Nat," I smiled sincerely, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. "For everything. I don't know what I would have done without you today."


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