My Boyfriend Hated My Best Friend Until I Came Home Novel by Nora Black _ Novel




My Boyfriend Hated My Best Friend Until I Came Home Chapter 01

My best friend was schemed against by her scumbag ex-husband and forced to walk away from her marriage with absolutely nothing, so I took her in at my home.
I took her traveling all over, stayed with her through every drunken bender, and added her as an authorized user to an unlimited-spending supplementary card linked to my account. All I cared about was making her happy again.
My boyfriend frowned constantly over this arrangement, “She demands a car to pick her up and drop her off everywhere, never wears the same outfit twice, only eats seafood if someone else shells it for her, only eats the center of watermelons and the tops of strawberries. Are you her dog, born to wait on her?"
"She's so spoiled and unreasonable, she deserved to get dumped by a man!"
I rarely lost my temper, but this time I snapped, my voice sharp and serious, “She's my best friend. I wouldn't be where I am today without her."
"So I'm begging you, even if it's for me, be a little more patient with her."
Later, I traveled to Averland for a project assessment, and video called her every day. I watched her slowly pull herself out of her grief and start a new job, building a new life for herself.
Three months later, I dragged my luggage back home, only to see my best friend lying on the couch. Finnick Hale was deftly shelling snow crab legs, dropping the freshly picked meat into her bowl. The soft, adoring look in his eyes was one I had never seen directed at me, not once in all our time together.
A dead silence fell over the room for a moment, the only sound the canned laughter from a variety show blaring on the TV. Lilia Moore was the first to snap out of her shock. She scrambled up from the couch and stumbled over to me, her face pale, “Seraphina... When did you get back? Why didn't you tell us ahead of time? We— I could have come to pick you up."
Finnick stood quietly behind her, saying nothing. Lilia gave a forced smile, “You must be tired. Let me pour you a glass of water."
With that, she whirled around in a panic, reaching for the glass on the coffee table, but her fumbling fingers knocked over the kettle instead, sending water spilling across the floor.
Finnick frowned, grabbing paper towels to clean up the mess, “Stop making more trouble, you're no good at this kind of thing."
Even though his tone was scolding, the fondness lacing his words was impossible to mistake. The last faint spark of hope I'd been clinging to fizzled out entirely.
My fingers tightened unconsciously around my bag strap, digging a deep, stinging indent into my palm, “When did this start?"
Lilia froze, turning to look at Finnick out of instinct. He kept his expression perfectly calm, and swept one long arm out to tuck her safely behind his back, “This has nothing to do with her. It's all my fault."
His tone was as flat as if he were commenting on the day's weather.
Finnick was a reserved, indifferent man, ruthless and decisive in business, never letting his emotions slip. Outsiders always said he was unapproachable, that Seraphina Carter was the only person in the world who could ever get a real reaction out of him. I used to believe that too, that I was the only exception for him. Until this moment, when he stood on the opposite side from me, drawing a clear line between us, cutting me out of his life completely with calm, icy words.
Lilia panicked, “No... Seraphina, listen to me explain, we aren't..."
I stood there quietly, but she stammered for ages, unable to string together a single coherent explanation. I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh, “You can't even come up with a single plausible lie to cover this up?"
Lilia's face turned even paler. Finnick took her shaking hands in his, his voice low and steady, “It's okay. I'll handle this, alright?"
He stepped forward and took my luggage from my grip, “Seraphina, let's go outside to talk."
I stared at his face. In just three months, he looked like a complete stranger, like I'd never known him at all. I fought back the burning in my eyes, my voice wavering slightly, “Finnick, this is my home. You're telling *me* to leave?"
He fell silent for a beat, his tone softening into a plea, “Seraphina, I'm begging you. She caught a cold yesterday, let her get some rest early, okay?"
I pressed a hand hard to my chest. There was no physical wound there, but the ache was so searing I thought I might pass out from it.
Finnick grabbed his coat from the back of a chair, giving Lilia a soft, gentle reminder, “You go to sleep like a good girl, leave the rest to me. I'll bring you lobster ravioli from Maple Street when I come back."
I stormed out of the apartment before they could see the humiliating sight of me, my face streaked with tears.
In a hotel suite, Finnick sat on the far couch, cool and distant, all polite formality. He smoked two cig@rettes in silence before finally speaking, his voice low, “This is all my fault. You can have whatever compensation you want."
"I was the one who fell first. Don't blame her."
I dug my nails into my palms hard enough to draw blood, forcing myself to take a deep breath, “Why?"
Finnick lit another cig@rette, rubbing at the space between his brows, “Seraphina, you're smart, calm, capable. But Lilia is different. She can't survive without me."
I stared at his face in the faint red glow of the cig@rette ember, and the utter absurdity of it all almost made me laugh out loud, bitter and sharp. Back when Lilia was still my best friend, Finnick couldn't stand her. He said she was spoiled and unreasonable, completely disconnected from the real world, a coddled deadweight who did nothing but laze around the house, a parasitic vine that could only survive by clinging to others.
Three months earlier, when I had to travel to Averland for the assessment, I begged him over and over before he reluctantly agreed to lend her a hand occasionally if she ran into trouble. He'd been uncharacteristically playful that day, biting my cheek hard enough to leave a mark, “Seraphina Carter, I haven't even married you yet, and I'm already stuck handling your personal messes. You left me with this huge headache, so you'd better make it up to me properly later."
I'd stood on my tiptoes to kiss him on the lips, promising him we'd get married as soon as I wrapped up the Averland project.
Barely three months had passed since then, and everything I'd known had turned to ash.

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