CHAPTER THREE- I THOUGHT YOU DID CHOOSE ME

Aria sank into the armchair by the window, the quiet hum of the law firm around her fading into the background. A small smile tugging at her lips as she took in the soft light of the morning and the calm it brought. Just then, the door opened, and her husband's secretary walked in.

Ann with her chins up walked into the room, her footsteps slow and swift. As she bent slightly to set a file on the table, the necklace slipped into view, catching the light—sleek, familiar, unmistakable.

Aria's breath seized. Her fingers, once loosely draped over the armrest, curled into her palm. Her eyes lingered on the necklace, unmoving, while the corner of her mouth twitched ever so slightly. A flicker of something sharp danced behind her calm gaze, and then her jaw tightened.

"What a lovely necklace," she said, her tone light but edged like glass. "New?"

Ann straightened, brushing the dust from

her pencil skirt. She paused for a moment. "Oh, this? Yes. A gift... from someone special."

Aria's eyes didn't flinch. "Is that so?" She leaned back, one brow rising slowly. "Funny. I could've sworn I saw it somewhere else recently."

"Yes, it was the recent jewelry that was auctioned two days ago! Does it look eye-catching?"

Ann shifted her button, letting the necklace dangle a little longer. Her lips curled into a knowing smile

"I never thought you would notice it?" she said, feigning surprise. "I wasn't sure you'd recognize something so… refined."

Taking a step closer, her gaze fixed on Aria, "When I saw it, I just knew it had to be mine. It's Something about me, the design—it didn't quite scream you, you know?"

Her gaze swept over Aria's face, trying so hard to determine her expressions.

"You don't have to worry, Classic pieces like this can be… a bit intimidating. Take the right kind of woman to wear them. It isn't meant for houseWives."

She walked away before Aria could respond, the faintest smirk playing on her lips.

"Ann," Aria said, her voice smooth and bothered, but laced with quiet venom causing Ann to freeze on her steps.

Ann paused, glancing over her shoulder.

Aria rose from the armchair,each of her movements steady and cautious and her eyes locked on Ann's with unsettling calm. "You're right. It does take a certain kind of woman to wear something like that." She smiled—cool, deliberate. "The kind who doesn't mind sloppy seconds."

Ann blinked.

Aria stepped forward, just enough to close the distance with her presence alone. "enjoy it while it lasts. That necklace could return to its owner any time soon."

The smirk vanished from Ann's face. She opened her mouth trying to let out a word but found none. Aria's face lit with a smile, reclaiming her seat like a queen settling back into her throne.

Ann stood frozen for a second too long, her gripped tightened as she held the file in her hands.She forced a laugh, but it came out brittle. She tried to mask the uneasiness she felt.

"Well," she said, turning fully now, voice a touch too high, "I suppose some women cling to what they used to have. Nostalgia's a powerful drug, isn't it?"

Aria didn't answer—she didn't need to. She simply sipped from her teacup, gaze steady, the silence between them thick enough to slice through.

Ann's eyes flicked to the necklace again,it felt heavier than it did earlier on, her hand reflexively reached up to touch it, as if to confirm it was still there—still hers.

"Besides," she added, recovering with a tilt of her head, " I don't think your husband thought of you before getting this necklace! "

That did it. Aria set the cup down gently—deliberately. "Careful, Ann," she said quietly. "It's easy to confuse a borrowed moment for something permanent. Just like it's easy to wear diamonds you didn't earn."

Ann's jaw clenched, lips parting, but no comeback came. The silence roared.

And Aria? She simply looked away, as if Ann had already left.

"You think you're better than me, don't you?" she hissed, the polished assistant act falling away. "Sitting here in your little throne, sipping tea like you're untouchable. News flash, Aria—he doesn't even look at you the way he looks at me."

"That says more about him than it does about me." Aria shot back at her without flinching.

Before Ann could snapback, the door opened.

Daniel stepped in, a file in hand, brows slightly raised at the tension that smacked him the second he entered. He took one look at Aria's rigid posture, then at Ann—her face flushed, breathing uneven.

"What's going on?" he asked, stepping closer to Ann instinctively.

Ann turned to him, her voice softening, playing the victim. "Nothing, I just— I think I overstayed. Aria was just... making a point."

Aria laughed under her breath, dark and hollow. "Tell him what point, Ann. Go on. Don't be shy now."

Daniel looked between them, tension knotting in his jaw. "Aria, whatever this is—can we not do this here?"

Oh, how convenient," Aria replied, voice calm but cold. "You walk in just in time to rescue her, like clockwork."

"Not everything is about you, only if you could take a moment to realize it rather than looking for someone to blame." He shot at her.

Ann laid a hand gently on his arm, eyes wide, wounded. "Daniel, it's fine. I shouldn't have said anything. She's just upset."

Hot sensation stirring in her throat like a sharp knife cutting through it, Aria's chest rose, her breath hitched but she didn't let out the scream to relief her throat.

"Of course she's upset," she said quietly. "She's wearing my necklace. Standing beside my husband. And now she's pretending to be the injured one?" She looked at Daniel then—really looked. "Tell me, do you defend her like this when it's just the two of you?"

Daniel didn't answer.

And that silence—thick and ugly—was louder than anything he could have said.

Aria stared at him, her face void of emotions. Then slowly, she gave a single nod. Not in agreement—but in understanding. A bitter kind of clarity.

she said softly, yet carefully letting out each word slowly as she masked her pain. "I used to pray you'd choose me. I used to think if I was patient, if I stayed quiet and loyal, you'd remember who stood with you when no one else did."

Her voice didn't shake—it was steady, sharp, carved from heartbreak.

"But now I see you clearly," she went on. "You didn't stop loving me—you stopped respecting me. And that... that's worse."

Daniel shifted uncomfortably, guilt flickering across his face, but Aria didn't give him the space to speak.

She turned to Ann, eyes icy. "And you—enjoy the illusion. He might defend you now, but one day, you'll realize the same man who betrayed his wife has already betrayed you—he's just dressing it in charm."

Ann's mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Aria took one last look at them—two people caught in their own lie—then adjusted her coat, straightened her spine, and walked toward the door.

As she opened it, she paused without turning back.

"Next time, Ann… keep the necklace. I don't wear things that stink of desperation."

And with that, she stepped out, heels clicking with quiet power—leaving behind a silence that neither Daniel nor Ann dared to break.