The café was tucked into a quiet corner street, one of those places with frosted windows and the comforting scent of roasted beans that seemed to cling to the very walls. Aria slipped inside, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek as she scanned the room. It didn't take long to find Lila—her friend was already waving with both hands like an excited child, a bright grin plastered on her face.
"Aria! Over here! I already ordered us scones. You owe me."
Aria laughed, weaving her way through the tables before sliding into the booth opposite her. "I've been here for exactly thirty seconds and you're already keeping score?"
"Of course. Friends don't let friends forget debts." Lila leaned forward eagerly. "Now spill. You've been avoiding me since that skating session with Henry. Don't think I didn't notice."
Aria flushed slightly, tugging at her sleeve. "Avoiding is a strong word. I've just… been processing."
"Processing? Oh no. That's code for 'something delicious happened and I need to replay it in my brain a hundred times before sharing.'" Lila wiggled her brows mischievously. "Out with it. Every detail."
Aria sighed, knowing resistance was useless. "Fine. It started at the rink. I was teaching him how to skate, which was… let's just say terrifying. He's hopeless."
"Hopeless how?" Lila asked, eyes wide. "Like flailing arms, screaming-for-his-life hopeless? Or broody-hero-about-to-trip hopeless?"
"The second one," Aria admitted with a laugh. "He was stiff as a board, glaring at the ice as though it had personally insulted him. But then he tripped, pulled me down with him, and somehow managed to twist so I landed safely on top of him."
Lila slapped the table, nearly sending the sugar jar flying. "You landed on him? Aria! That's practically fate writing you into a romance novel."
Aria rolled her eyes, though her cheeks warmed. "It was clumsy, not romantic. At least… not at first."
"Not at first?" Lila pounced immediately. "So it did become romantic."
Aria hesitated, then smiled faintly. "He didn't let go of me. Even when we were just lying there on the ice, he kept his hand on my waist like… like he couldn't stand the thought of me slipping away. It felt different. Vulnerable."
Lila's expression softened. "That's not the Henry I know. He usually treats people like… well, like pawns on a chessboard."
"Exactly. But with me, in that moment…" Aria trailed off, then shook her head. "And then later, at the edge of the rink, he asked me—directly—if I still wanted the divorce."
Lila gasped so loudly that the barista turned to stare. She lowered her voice immediately. "He asked you that? And what did you say?"
"I told him I didn't know anymore," Aria confessed, twisting the ring on her finger nervously. "And then he… he asked me to stay. To give us a chance until my treatment is over. He said if I still wanted to leave then, he would let me go."
For once, Lila was silent, her gaze flicking across her friend's face. Finally, she exhaled slowly. "Aria, that's… huge. I never thought Henry would say something like that. He must really—" She cut herself off, eyes glinting. "So then what? Did you two immediately make out on the ice?"
Aria burst out laughing, covering her mouth. "No! We kept skating, hand in hand. But later, we went out to dinner. Just the two of us."
Lila leaned closer, positively glowing with nosy anticipation. "And?"
"And it was… nice. Not forced. We teased each other, we talked, and then—" Aria hesitated, cheeks burning. "We ran into his mother at the restaurant."
"Oh no," Lila groaned dramatically. "The mother-in-law ambush."
"Actually," Aria said, biting back a smile, "she was wonderful. She invited me to tea the next day."
Lila nearly choked on her latte. "Wait—you had tea with Mrs. Lannister? And you lived to tell the tale?"
"Yes," Aria said, laughing. "Not only that, but it was… lovely. She told me stories about Henry's childhood, about him sneaking food to stray dogs and writing awful poetry."
"Oh, I need copies of that poetry." Lila's eyes danced with mischief. "Did she give you her blessing? Or, like, a formal stamp of approval on a family crest?"
Aria smirked. "Not quite. But she did say that I see Henry for who he is, not the heir, not the figure everyone else sees. She said that mattered to her."
Lila melted against the back of her chair, fanning herself. "Okay, stop. This is too much sweetness. I'm going to need another scone just to cope."
The waiter brought over a fresh plate, and they both reached for one at the same time. For a moment, the air between them lightened into the easy rhythm of long friendship.
"So," Aria said once she'd taken a bite, "that's my update. Now it's your turn. What's going on with Elias?"
Lila froze, mid-chew, cheeks flushing pink. "Elias? Oh, nothing. He's just… Elias."
"Lila," Aria warned, narrowing her eyes playfully. "You don't invite me here just to interrogate me. Spill."
With a dramatic sigh, Lila gave in. "Fine. He's… infuriating. He's so calm all the time, like he's watching me unravel for fun. But then he'll do something so ridiculously thoughtful I don't know whether to scream or swoon."
Aria grinned knowingly. "For example?"
"For example," Lila said, waving her fork, "last week, I mentioned offhand that I hated the harsh lighting in my office. Two days later, a package arrives—Elias sent me a lamp, with a handwritten note that just said, 'Better for your eyes.' Who does that?"
Aria clasped her hands dramatically. "A man in love."
Lila groaned. "Don't you dare say that."
"Too late. I already did."
They both burst out laughing, drawing another curious glance from the barista.
"And then," Lila continued, lowering her voice, "yesterday I met one of his old mentors. Apparently, Elias still talks about me to him."
Aria's eyes widened. "He does?"
"Yes," Lila admitted, her face heating. "He told his mentor that I was… the person who challenges him the most. Can you believe it? Me? Challenging him?"
Aria tilted her head. "Well, you do have a way of keeping people on their toes."
"That's a polite way of saying I'm a handful," Lila shot back, smirking.
"Only sometimes," Aria teased.
They dissolved into giggles again, the café echoing with their shared mirth.
After a pause, Aria leaned forward, her voice softer. "Lila… are you happy?"
The question caught her off guard. Lila blinked, then smiled faintly. "I think I am. Or at least, I'm on the way there. Elias is… complicated, but in the best possible way. He makes me feel like I can be both the dramatic version of myself and the serious one, without having to choose."
Aria's chest warmed. "That sounds a lot like how Henry makes me feel."
They exchanged a look then, something quiet and meaningful between them.
"Aria," Lila said suddenly, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. "Do you realize how far you've come? Not that long ago, you were convinced Henry hated you. And now look at you—you're glowing."
Aria laughed, shaking her head. "Glowing? That's just the café lighting."
"Lies," Lila declared. "You're in love."
Aria opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. A small smile tugged at her lips. "Maybe I am. Or maybe I'm just… hopeful."
Lila beamed. "Hope looks good on you."
They lingered over their drinks, sharing more stories, more jokes—some silly, some heartfelt. The afternoon sun shifted through the windows, painting their table in gold. For the first time in a long while, Aria felt something she hadn't realized she'd been missing: a sense of belonging, of sisterhood, of shared joy.
As they finally stood to leave, Lila hooked her arm through Aria's. "Promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"When you and Henry finally admit you're disgustingly in love, I get to say 'I told you so' at least ten times."
Aria rolled her eyes but laughed, the sound light and true. "Deal."