A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Matilda had one of those dreams that lasted an eternity, the kind that clings to your eyelids even as you pry them open to the morning light. That morning, she awoke with a start to find the sun high in the sky, nearly noon. Gasping for breath as if to shake off the remnants of the dream world, she finally felt anchored back into reality.

She fixed her hair into a fresh style and shot quick texts to Criss and Chloe. Today felt like a new chapter–she had shed her past pains and, with them, her vulnerabilities.

She wondered if Yvan was satisfied with this outcome. After all, everything had played out exactly as he wanted, hadn’t it?

Criss responded almost immediately, suggesting they grab lunch together. Matilda dolled herself up and stepped out, a bounce in her step, to meet him at the bustling shopping center.

Half an hour later, they found each other at the grand entrance.

Criss was decked out in a sharp suit, looking every bit the part of a suave gentleman. Matilda couldn’t help but grin at the sight. “Dressed like you’re on a date, huh?”

Criss wrapped an arm around her neck with a playful swagger. “Aren’t you my biggest frenemy? Always forgetting me for the good times, but the first to call when there’s trouble.”

After a few teasing apologies from Matilda, they linked arms and strolled into the mall like besties on a spree. They flitted from one boutique to the next, and soon, both were toting a couple of shopping bags each.

“Dumping that jerk should call for a celebratory meal, don’t you think?” Criss quipped with a smile. “Let’s invite Chloe over to join us.”

“I messaged Chloe, but no clue why she hasn’t replied,” Matilda said, checking her phone again and murmuring about it being odd before refocusing. “Let’s just go eat, and she can cab over when she gets back to me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Criss picked out a trendy bistro and led the way inside. His features drew admiring glances from the staff, who whispered to each other about how “adorably in love” the pair seemed.

They settled into the private booth, and Criss casually hooked a stool with his foot to prop his long legs up, abandoning any pretense of the polished celebrity demeanor for one that screamed nouveau riche– only a cigar in the mouth would have completed the picture.

With a roguish glint in his eye, he drawled, “Order for me, darling.” This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“You’re such a pig,” Matilda teased with a laugh. “I heard someone saying how handsome you

are when we walked in.”

That comment sent Criss‘ ego sky–high, and he hummed with satisfaction. “We mixed–race folks are just naturally good–looking. Like that Adrian guy. He’s pretty sharp, too.”

10:51

“Why bring him up?” Matilda made a face. “I’ve cut ties with all of them.”

“Oh, really?” Criss raised an eyebrow playfully. “In that case, maybe I’ll go sleep with Yvan tor get back at him for you.”

“Do whatever you want, but don’t make it about revenge for me.” Matilda rolled her eyes. “What’s there to like about a scumbag like that? A fresh young thing would be far better.”

“Now you’re lecturing me?” Criss fished out a cigarette, lit it like he owned the place, and squinted at the menu. “You should thank your lucky stars for having a gay best friend like me. Look at me, shopping with you through your break–up blues.”

Break–up blues? That notion sent Matilda into a fit of giggles.

“I stopped loving Yvan five years ago.”