Chap 2: Part 3- Zoe, Unfiltered

It was a day after Zoe's wedding. The café was half-full, cozy with amber light and quiet chatter.

Sarah sat rigid, her cappuccino untouched. Chloe checked her watch for the fifth time in as many minutes.

Then the door swung open with soft chime.

Zoe entered like a storm in heels—glasses perched on her head, a pastel purse dangling from her wrist, and an unreadable smile on her face.

"Wow," she said, sliding into the booth across from them. "The infamous liars' club meets at my favorite café. How poetic."

Chloe gave a half-smile.

"You look stunning. Marriage suits you."

"Murder suits me better right now."

Sarah couldn't bring herself to look up.

"So," Zoe continued breezily, removing her sunglasses. Slowly. Dramatically. The kind of removal that said, I am not mad—I am theatrically furious. "Which one of you genius idiots wants to explain why my cousin asked me about a bridesmaid he had already met, when I introduced you two like strangers?"

Neither Chloe nor Sarah answered right away. A silent war of "you go first" passed between them, invisible but intense. Finally, Sarah, quiet and pale, cleared her throat.

"We didn't mean to-"

Zoe held up a finger.

"Let's not start with we didn't mean to. That line's tired. I'm tired."

Sarah's cheeks burned with sudden heat, the blush hit her like a wave, hot and uninvited.

"It was just a stupid idea," Chloe said quickly. "A harmless switch. She was supposed to go in my place for one tiny date. That's it."

"And you? You just went along with it?" She turned to Sarah.

"I didn't know he was your cousin," she said quietly. "Until later. And then it was already too complicated."

"We were going to tell you. Eventually." Chloe winced.

"Eventually?" Zoe echoed. "Was the plan to invite me to the baby shower first or the wedding?"

Sarah head snapped up. "It started as a favor. And then…"

"Then you pretended to be someone else, went on a date with my cousin, returned a bunch of gifts, and forgot to mention any of it to me? Sounds chill."

Zoe leaned back, arms crossed, staring at them both.

"You know what really bothers me?"

Neither of them answered.

"That you didn't trust me. Me. Of all people. You thought I'd judge you for a date-swap? Or for falling for someone? Or for being awkward and weird and overthinking the whole thing? I'm mad because you didn't trust me enough to tell me. Both of you. You're my best friends."

Sarah blinked. Chloe looked guilty.

"You think I'd ruin it? Or go blab to my family? Come on. I'm a Harrison, not a Harrison snitch."

The words hung there.

Sarah finally said, quietly. "I'm sorry."

Zoe stared at her then softened—just a little. "Good."

She glanced between them.

""And I don't like being the last to know." Her tone softened now. " next time you two decide to rewrite reality—just loop me in, okay?"

Sarah groaned, her face flushing even redder. "There's not going to be a next time, Zoe."

Zoe raised an eyebrow. "Not even if a certain pastry chef comes calling again?"

"Absolutely not," She nearly knocking over her glass as she sat up straighter. "That was a one-time disaster, not a romantic comedy."

Zoe tapped her spoon lightly against the rim of her glass, her grin lingering.

"Oh come on, Sarah," she said, her voice lighter now. "Disaster or not… you have to admit, it wasn't boring."

Sarah exhaled, looking away, her cheeks still tinged with pink. "It was chaotic. That's what it was."

From across the table, Chloe coughed into her cup, trying—and failing—not to laugh.

"She's not wrong," she said. "It was sort of legendary. In a trainwreck kind of way."

Sarah shot her a dry look. "You started that trainwreck."

Chloe lifted both hands innocently. "I just nudged the wheels. You're the one who rolled with it."

Zoe leaned in slightly, a teasing glint in her eyes, her elbows resting on the table. "But he did send pastries. And a gift box. And flowers—okay, cat-ruined flowers, but still. That's not exactly 'just chaos.' That's.... investment."

Sarah shot her a glare. "You make it sound like a rom-com. It wasn't. It was a misunderstanding with baked goods."

Zoe softened, resting her chin on her hand. "Look, I'm not matchmaking here—well, maybe just a little—but I know you. And I saw how quiet you went when he walked up. You don't go quiet unless someone's gotten under your skin."

Sarah pressed her lips together, arms folded. "I went quiet because I was trying not to die from embarrassment."

"Maybe. Or maybe you just weren't ready to admit you liked how he looked at you."

Sarah looked away, jaw tightening slightly, she hated how heat crept up her neck—how Zoe's words pierced past the noise and touched something raw.

Because it wasn't about Eric. Not really.

It was about the way she froze whenever someone looked at her like she mattered. Like she was seen.

Love—attention—had never come without strings. Or shouting. Or slamming doors.

She remembered being eight, standing at the top of the stairs while her parents fought in the kitchen.

Her father's voice like thunder. Her mother's silence sharp enough to slice through bone.

She had learned then: don't draw attention. Don't provoke. Don't hope.

A gaze held too long meant expectations.

A compliment meant control in disguise.

And affection? That was the first card in a house that always collapsed.

A quiet knot tightened in her chest.

"I'm not looking for any of that, Zoe. Not right now. Not with him. Not with anyone." she said softly, her voice more fragile than she intended.

Zoe didn't notice. Or maybe she did—but let it go. She didn't push further.

And Sarah was grateful. She didn't want pity. Just space to breathe.

Chloe nudged her knee under the table and grinned, oblivious. "Okay, okay. Next time, we'll just send me in drag. Problem solved."

Sarah exhaled, a wry smile returning. The moment passed.

Zoe stood, brushing imaginary lint from her skirt.

"Well. I'm glad I got that off my chest. I have lunch with Adam's incredibly boring friends, so please know how much I love you both to choose this before that. See you later."

As she turned to leave, she added.

"Oh, and Sarah? If Eric asks for your number—just give it. Or I swear I'll do it myself. Dramatically. At a gala."

Then she turned, her heels clicking as she left, door shut behind her.

Sarah stared after her, stunned.

Chloe sipped her coffee and said,

"Well. That went better than I expected."

Sarah dropped her face into her hands with a quiet groan, her cheeks burning.

"I think I need a new life," she murmured.

Chloe chuckled, reaching for a pastry. "Nah. You just need better alibis."