Chapter 51 Friend
KARA’S POV
The weekend arrives quietly.
I stand near the doorway of Dad’s house, my small luggage beside my feet, while Dad folds his newspaper neatly on the table. The afternoon sun filters through the old windows, casting warm lines across the living room floor.
“I’ll come visit every day after work,” I tell him for the third time.
Dad sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Kara, I’m not fragile.”
“I know.”
“Then stop looking at me like I’m about to collapse.”
I cross my arms.
“You literally talked to Mom’s photo like you were confessing a crime the other night.”
He coughs awkwardly.
“That was… different.”
I raise a brow.
“Different how?”
But he just waves his hand dismissively.
“Go back to your condo. You’ve been here almost a month. That place probably forgot what its owner looks like.”
Despite everything, I smile. He walks over and pats my shoulder.
“Just visit your old man sometimes.”
“I will.”
Then he adds with a teasing grin, “And bring that billionaire friend of yours again. I like him.”
I roll my eyes.
“He’s not my billionaire friend.”
Dad chuckles.
“Sure.”
But as I step outside and head toward the car waiting for me, my phone vibrates. It's a message.
Finnian: Just landed in Madrid for my second stop here in Spain.
I can’t stop the small smile forming on my lips. Another message arrives immediately.
Finnian: Have you eaten?
I type back while opening the car door.
Me: Yes, Mom.
Three dots appear instantly.
Finnian: Funny.
Then another.
Finnian: What are you doing today?
I pause before replying.
Me: Going back to my condo. Cleaning. Being productive.
A few seconds later:
Finnian: Wild lifestyle.
I shake my head, laughing softly. He has been like this all week. Texting me updates, photos of the city, random things he sees, the hotel lobby, and a street musician. Even a terrible-looking airport sandwich he complained about for twenty minutes. Somehow he always makes sure to ask how my day is going. He's persistent and consistent like he promised. And the strange thing is, he hasn’t missed a single day.
My condo greets me with a familiar quiet when I step inside. The scent of the place is faintly stale from being closed for weeks, but it still feels like home. I drop my bag on the couch and glance around.
“I missed this place,” I murmur to myself.
Living alone again feels oddly comforting. No worrying about disturbing Dad and no tiptoeing around someone else’s schedule. Just my own space and my own chaos.
I roll up my sleeves and start cleaning. Opening windows, dusting shelves, rearranging books, and it’s almost therapeutic. The sunlight pours into the living room as I move furniture slightly and wipe down the kitchen counters. At some point, my phone buzzes again on the table.
Finnian: Just finished a meeting.
I type while wiping a cabinet.
Me: Did you conquer Spain yet?
His reply comes quickly.
Finnian: Working on it.
Then another message.
Finnian: Send proof you’re actually cleaning.
I laugh.
Me: Why?
Finnian: Because I suspect you’re lying and watching TV.
I take a quick photo of the half-cleaned living room and send it.
Three seconds later:
Finnian: Impressive.
Then:
Finnian: But you missed a spot near the couch.
I stare at the message.
“…He’s impossible.”
After finishing the cleaning, I finally collapse onto the couch for a short rest.
A warm shower follows soon after. By the time I step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, my body feels lighter.
Refreshed.
I change into comfortable clothes and open my laptop.
Time for Louisse’s baby shopping.
The moment I type “newborn essentials,” my screen floods with tiny clothes, baby bottles, blankets, toys.
“Oh no…”
Two hours later, my shopping cart is dangerously full.
“Louisse better name this child after me,” I mutter while clicking checkout.
Eventually, my stomach begins to growl loudly.
“Alright, alright.”
The convenience store downstairs suddenly sounds like the best idea in the world. I grab my phone and keys before stepping out of my condo. But the moment I open the door, another door opens directly across the hallway.
And out steps a very familiar woman.
We both freeze.
It’s her, the beautiful woman from the store.
Lindsey.
Her eyes widen slightly before she smiles warmly.
“Well,” she says lightly. “We meet again.”
I nod, still a little surprised.
“Apparently we do.”
She gestures toward her door behind her.
“I moved in yesterday. You probably didn’t notice.”
“Ah,” I say. “That explains it.”
“I’m new here.”
I offer a polite smile.
“Welcome to the building. I hope you get a good night’s sleep here.”
She laughs softly.
“That’s the goal.”
Then she extends her hand toward me.
“I’m Lindsey.”
I shake it.
Her grip is gentle but confident.
“I’m Karaella,” I say. “But you can call me Kara.”
“Nice meeting you, Kara.”
Her smile is bright, genuine, and somehow disarming.
As fate would have it, we both end up at the same convenience store downstairs. She grabs a sandwich and bottled tea while I pick instant noodles and juice. When we reach the small dining area near the window, Lindsey gestures toward the empty seat across from her.
“Do you mind?”
I shake my head.
“Not at all.”
Soon we’re sitting across from each other, eating convenience store food like old acquaintances.
“I didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” she says.
“Same.”
She smiles.
“So… do you live here alone?”
“Yes.”
“And what do you do?”
“I’m an engineer,” I answer. “Still new in the field.”
Her eyes light up.
“That’s impressive.”
“What about you?” I ask.
She wipes her hands with a napkin.
“I run the house supplies store where you were shopping the other day.”
“Oh.”
“That one is actually my business.”
I blink.
“You own it?”
She nods.
“Yes.”
“That’s… amazing.”
She shrugs modestly.
“I started small.”
Then she smiles warmly again.
“I’m really glad we met again.”
There’s something incredibly easy about talking to her She's natural, comfortable to be with, and up close is
she’s even more beautiful. Her features are delicate but strong and her voice is calm and soothing. I almost forget that this might be the same Lindsey Finnian once loved.
After finishing our food, we walk back toward the elevators together. Before stepping out, Lindsey suddenly turns to me.
“Oh!”
I look at her.
“What?”
“My birthday is this Tuesday,” she says casually.
“Oh… happy early birthday.”
“You should come.”
I blink.
“To… your birthday?”
She nods enthusiastically.
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to intrude—”
“You’re not intruding.”
I hesitate.
“We just met.”
She laughs softly.
“And I already consider you a friend.”
Her smile is so sincere that it’s almost impossible to refuse.
“Please come,” she adds gently.
I pause for a moment before nodding.
“…Alright.”
Her eyes brighten.
“Perfect.”
As we step off the elevator onto our floor, Lindsey waves lightly before entering her condo.
“Goodnight, Kara.”
“Goodnight.”
I unlock my door slowly.
But the moment I step inside, one thought echoes in my head again. Lindsey, maybe Finnian’s Lindsey, and somehow fate just made her my neighbor or maybe I am just assuming things.