Evelyn's POV 

I didn't planned to say anything. I really didn't.

But the moment Claire pushed open the door to my apartment that evening—arms full of takeout, her hair twisted in a messy bun, her face already wearing that knowing, best-friend look—I nearly broke down.

“Okay,” she said, kicking her shoes off and setting the food on the kitchen counter, “I brought dumplings, green tea, and your favorite chocolate cookies. Whatever this vibe is you’ve been ...