I woke up a second time to Cayden walking around, somehow she had gotten up off the couch from behind me while I was sleeping, which easily made me feel self-conscious. Was I sleeping weirdly? Did I snore or drool? How did I look? Was my hair frizzy? I noticed Cayden was trying to be quiet but I could easily hear the clicking of her keyboard and her setting down some type of glass utensil on the glass table. Must be coffee or perhaps tea or water.

"Hey," I sat up fully while looking around.

"Hey," she responded, but there was no warmth laced in her voice—it was even colder now that I'd heard her soft voice earlier this morning. She didn't even glance at me or stop what she was doing, instead, she kept her focus on her MacBook resting on the glass table and acted like I was barely even there.

I got dressed quickly, now feeling exposed in just her white t-shirt and the large blanket. Cayden had changed into a black sweatshirt and matching sweatpants while her wet dark hair was brushed back without a part, which confirmed that she had showered. I walked over to the kitchen before tapping the lock screen of my phone, I quickly realized I'd slept for three more hours without actually meaning to.

"You should've woken me up," I said trying to keep my tone light, but something about all of this felt tense...and weird.

"You looked peaceful," she said as her eyes stayed on the laptop in front of her, "I do think you should head home soon, though, I have a lot going on and work to do..." Cayden sipped whatever was in the matte black large mug as her dark eyes stayed on the screen in front of her, again not bothering to spare me a glance.

"Did I do something?"

"No," she said as her head snapped up from her laptop without meeting my eyes, she then rolled out her neck in thought with a soft, yet stress-filled sigh, "Maybe you didn't. Or I guess... we did something. And now we have to move on and do something else before this situation can get any worse,"

"This situation?" I asked trying not to scoff, "This situation meaning me? Meaning..." I trail off with furrowed brows as I search for the right term, "Meaning whatever this is?"

"Vina I—"

"So now I'm Vina? And you can't even look me in my eyes?" I scoffed, "Pulling that before kicking me out in a rush—I mean what the fuck is going on? Is this about last night?"

"It's more than last night. It's about whatever is going on between us and whatever happens to me when I see you... We went too far,"

"The hotel and the conversation we had during the drive home weren't too much, but this is?"

"It's—" Cayden sighed and finally looked at me, as if embarrassed, she looked away, "I've seen you naked now, Vina. That means something, it doesn't matter if I didn't technically touch you,"

"So? We're both single aren't we?" I asked and then I felt my heart pump harshly in my chest. Maybe we weren't. Maybe Cayden was seeing someone, which I'd never bothered to think about, suddenly my eyes swept the room in search of anything that identified that another woman stayed here, "We're both single aren't we?"

"Yes," Cayden said, "Jesus, what kind of person do you think I am?"

"I'm just saying because last time I checked we're both single and consenting adults," I said as I walked over to the glass dining room table that Cayden was seated at and placed myself between her and the laptop which finally caused her typing and tapping to stop, "What are you so worried about? Sebastian isn't a part of my life anymore, and I'm not sure if he really ever was, which I thought I made clear,"

"I just don't want to get involved Vi," I felt an instant rush of relief at the usual nickname she used for me, but I quickly felt so naive for even feeling that way.

"There's nothing to get involved in. It's over,"

"He's my best fucking friend. We've known each other since diapers—it doesn't matter if you guys aren't together, he'd still be devastated if he knew,"

"Really? Because I don't think he would—we barely had anything at the end, and I'm not quite sure we even had it at the beginning,"

"He misses you. He told me he missed you and I... god, he never talks like that. He's never talked like that about his feelings, but he was really serious with me about missing you and how hard he was trying to fix it and—"

"It was broken from the start, how can he fix it?" I asked surprised by how hurt I felt at her rejection even though I'd only known her for such a short time, "You'd rather me be with him than you?" I asked with a raised brow as I physically felt my heart begin cracking at the edges. It feels like she's trying to get me and Sebastian back together—It feels like... she's just like my parents who loved that we were together, or Jade and Jaci, who desperately kept preaching to talk to him, especially Jaci, who specifically kept trying to convince me to give him another chance. Was she just like all of them? Did she want all of this for me too? I told her how unhappy I was, and now she's here telling me how badly he's trying and how he misses me? Maybe she wants me to feel bad, and maybe I should... I wasted years of his life, on our facade of a relationship—and she's... She's his best friend.

"I'm not saying that."

"Then what are you saying Cayden? Because you sound like everyone else who wants me to conform to the standards that Sebastian and I's relationship fit into," I pointed out, "You say you don't want to intervene, but you're intervening by saying this right now. Forget about all of that and let's try whatever this is,"

Cayden finally glanced up into my eyes for the first time of me standing right here in front of her, with me leaning against the large glass table. Her dark eyes were so comforting, so soft—that it made me forget that we were arguing, the paper airplane tatted under her right eye flashed me back to the night at the Meleri estate, giving me a sense of hope that we could figure this out. But that's until I notice that there was a look of sadness in her soft eyes—like she knew what she had to do and what she wanted to do and neither of them aligned.

"I'm really sorry Vi," her voice was soft along with her expression.

"Don't be sorry just... just try this out with me," I said, knowing I was pleading and that I'd definitely be embarrassed later, but she seemed worth it all, "No strings attached... we can just be casual and go with the flow, that's all I'm suggesting,"

"Sebastian would be really hurt,"

"Sebastian isn't a part of this," I crossed my arms over my chest covered by the maroon dress that I wore last night, "Are you using this as some excuse to not be with me? Do you not want to commit or consider committing? Because I'm not even looking for commitment, I'm just looking for something with you. I mean clearly, we have some sort of connection, so why not try to see where this all goes? Why should we willingly throw it away over this? We should be given a chance to fuck this all up ourselves rather than our past circumstances doing it for us,"

"It's not about commitment. I just... I just can't do this, I'm so sorry,"

"Don't be sorry for something that you're willingly choosing," I snapped causing her head to drop as her attention cast down to her lap where her tattooed hands rested. I felt bad for snapping, but I just felt so irritated and so... hurt. When it was clear that she wasn't going to say anything else, I grabbed my things and left her condo, refusing to look back.

Still... I was hoping she'd rush out of her chair and come after me, telling me how this was all stupid, how we'd be foolish to not at least try this out—so when she didn't, it made it all hurt just a little bit more. It made the thick feeling of crushed hope slowly morph into a dense pain as I rode the large shiny elevator down to the first floor of the luxurious condominium and exited out onto the busy streets of New York.