EPISODE 9
ALTHEA
The words landed like stones in my chest.
“Althea, you should know your place. Lucia will become Elias’ wife.”
Time slowed.
The balcony, the ocean breeze, even the distant laughter from the lounge—everything faded into a muted hum.
My eyes went straight to Elias, hoping for a flicker of denial, a flash of anger at his mother’s audacity.
But his expression was… restrained.
Controlled.
There was tension in his jaw, the sharp line of his lips, the way his fists clenched.
And for the first time, I felt utterly powerless.
Mira’s muttered curse barely registered in my mind.
“What a bitch.” The words were right, and yet, wrong—it didn’t capture the weight of that statement, the sheer audacity, the danger it carried.
I sank into a balcony chair, trying to ground myself, to breathe, but my chest was tight, my mind spinning.
And then, as if on cue, the memory of him—the real him, the boy I had known before chaos, before lies, before forced engagements—hit me like a wave.
⸻
Flashback – First Day Elias and I Met
I remembered the first time I saw him, sitting under the oak tree near the lecture hall.
It was my first day in college, and I was terrified of being invisible, of fumbling through introductions and awkwardly balancing textbooks.
He had looked up from a notebook, hazel eyes catching mine, and smiled—a small, disarming smile that made my chest feel too full.
“You look lost,” he said casually, voice warm, not mocking.
“I’m… fine,” I mumbled, though my hands shook slightly as I clutched my folder.
“You’re not,” he said softly, but with certainty.
“Come on, I’ll help you find your next class. Don’t worry—I’m Elias.”
I blinked.
“Althea.”
And just like that, the ice broke.
He walked beside me, and conversation flowed as if it had always belonged there.
We talked about professors, campus gossip, shared small jokes, and traded honest opinions.
He asked questions that made me pause, but in a good way—questions that made me think about myself, my choices, my dreams.
When the day ended, I had expected him to vanish, to be just another friendly face.
But he didn’t.
“You live far?” he asked casually.
I nodded, not wanting to admit the walk was long and lonely.
“Mind if I walk you home?” he offered, the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
I hesitated.
“I… it’s fine. Really.”
“Nope. I insist,” he said, steady and unwavering.
“It’s not far for me. Besides, it’s better than sending you into the windstorm alone.”
When we reached my apartment, my grandmother was in the garden, pruning herbs with a quiet concentration that made me smile.
“Grandma,” I called softly.
She looked up, eyes narrowing before softening.
“Ah, Althea, you’re late again. And who is this?”
“This… is Elias,” I said, unsure of how he’d react.
He gave her a polite nod, calm and confident.
“Hello, ma’am. I’m honored to meet you.”
Mae raised an eyebrow.
“Honored, huh? You sure you’re not just another boy trying to impress my granddaughter?”
Elias chuckled, a soft sound that made my stomach twist pleasantly.
“I can assure you, ma’am, I’m genuinely here for the company.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he gave me a reassuring glance.
“It’s okay, Thea. I’m down for it.”
“Good boy and you can call me grandma Mae your so handsome with that dark hair and blue eyes you must be from a well off family “ ”While yes ma’am sorry grandma Mae”
Mae’s stern features softened into a smile.
“Good. You hear that, girl? He said he’s down for it. Let’s see if he’s worth the tea.”
We spent a quiet half-hour in the living room.
Mae’s sharp questions revealed the smallest quirks about me, and Elias responded with humor and respect.
I watched, heart full, as he navigated the conversation effortlessly, making everyone laugh and feel at ease.
When it was time to leave, he walked me to the door, but paused.
“I’m really glad I came. Maybe tomorrow, I could walk you again?”
My grandmother’s eyes twinkled.
“See? Told you, Thea. He’s a good boy.”
I smiled, my chest warm with gratitude and something else I couldn’t yet name.
A black Mercedes pulled up slowly at the curb.
I raised my brows.
“Wait… you’re taking that?”
He shook his head.
“Nope. Wanted the walk. Needed the talk. Besides… it’s worth every step.”
And with that, he slipped into the car, leaving me standing there, heart racing, mind buzzing with curiosity and awe. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
⸻
Return to Present – Balcony Shock
My chest tightened again as I returned to the present.
Elias—my Elias—was standing across from me, his expression unreadable but tense, fists tight at his sides.
The words of his mother rang in my ears, echoing like a cruel mantra.
Lucia will become Elias’ wife.
I glanced at him, searching for any hint of reassurance.
He met my gaze for a split second, the depth of his blue eyes flashing something raw and familiar—anger?
Confusion?
Something dangerous that made my heart flutter and ache simultaneously.
Behind me, Mira muttered something low, muttering curses under her breath.
I clenched my jaw, breathing through it, trying to stay composed, knowing she needed my calm more than ever.
“Elias,” I whispered under my breath, almost praying he would hear me.
But he didn’t move, didn’t speak.
He was focused, calculating, the weight of family and expectation pressing down on him visibly.
I shifted, taking a step closer to the railing, letting the breeze hit my face.
My mind raced back to every small moment—the teasing, the shared jokes, the walk home, the quiet comfort of his presence.
Was that… just the past?
The flash of a memory—his smile when he first walked me home, the warmth of his hand brushing mine as we laughed at my grandmother’s sharp wit—made me ache.
It made the present feel unbearable.
“Althea,” his voice was low, a growl beneath the calm, drawing me back.
I met his gaze again, startled at the intensity, the storm brewing behind those familiar eyes.
“I…” I faltered, unsure what to say.
My chest was tight.
“I don’t—”
He shook his head slowly, jaw tight.
“I can’t do anything about them, Thea.”
“I know,” I whispered, almost to myself.
“I just… can’t believe it.”
The balcony seemed to shrink, the ocean behind us fading into a blur.
It was just us, past and present colliding.
The boy who had walked me home on the first day of college, who had made me feel safe and seen, was now standing in front of me, restrained but raw, and I couldn’t help the memories, the feelings, the longing that pressed into my chest.
And somewhere in the chaos, I realized something terrifying:
This wasn’t just tension.
This wasn’t just drama or anger.
It was us.
The us that had existed before everything else, before expectations, before family, before complications.
And maybe… maybe it had never truly gone away.
The door to my room clicked softly, and before I could even respond, it opened fully.
“Althea, you look like you just saw a ghost,” Mira said, flopping dramatically onto my bed.
Her curls bounced, and she gave me a playful glare, but there was concern behind it.
“I think I just did,” I muttered, sinking into the chair by the window.
Aria appeared behind her, carrying a small tray with bottled water and snacks.
“You need to breathe. Just breathe. It’s okay, Thea,” she said, calm and grounding as always.
She set the tray down and sat on the edge of the bed.
Mira leaned closer, smirking, though I could see the fire in her eyes.
“That woman,” she muttered.
“Lucia… don’t even get me started. I swear, if she touches you again—”
“I know,” I interrupted softly, holding up a hand.
“I just… I can’t let them get to me. I’m here for you, Aria. And nothing will ruin that.”
Aria smiled, the tiniest curve of her lips that made my chest feel warmer.
“Good. That’s exactly the spirit.”
Mira plopped down beside me, elbowing me lightly.
“You’re thinking too hard. Come on. We brought the movie.” She waved the tablet in front of my face like a peace offering.
I shook my head, letting out a small laugh despite the lingering tension.
“I guess a distraction wouldn’t hurt.”
Mira curled up beside me, resting her head on my shoulder.
“See? You’re alive. You’re here. No one—no one—is taking that from you.”
I let my head fall against hers for a moment, closing my eyes.
Her warmth, the sound of her soft breathing, reminded me why I had come.
This was for my friends.
This wasn’t about past mistakes, family drama, or toxic games.
I hugged her tightly, holding on as if I could pull all the fear and doubt out of my chest.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For everything.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Thea,” she murmured, pressing her cheek to mine.
“We’ve got you. Always.”
The movie played on, but my mind wandered, replaying the balcony, Elias, his mother’s words.
And yet, the softness of my friends beside me, the simple comfort of their presence, slowly chased the storm away.
I looked at Mira, her curls messy, her fiery brown eyes bright even in the dim glow of the screen.
“You’re ridiculous,” I said, laughing softly.
“I prefer ‘adorably ridiculous,’” she replied with a grin.
Aria nudged me gently.
“See? This is what you came for. Not them. Not the chaos. This. Us. Friendship. Love. Support.”
I let out a slow breath, finally feeling a sense of clarity returning.
My chest wasn’t as tight, my thoughts not as scattered.
The storm hadn’t disappeared, not entirely, but for the first time tonight, I remembered my purpose.
I was here for my friends.
For Aria, who had always been the grounded one, the mother hen, the voice of reason.
For Mira, the fiery one, who wore her heart on her sleeve and wouldn’t back down.
And yes, even for myself.
I shifted, sitting up straighter, looking at both of them.
“I’m not going to let anyone ruin this. Not Lucia. Not his mother. Not anyone. I’m here for you, and I’m not stepping back.”
Mira’s grin widened, and Aria nodded, her eyes soft but filled with approval.
“That’s the Thea I know,” Aria said.
I smiled, a genuine one, letting it reach my eyes for the first time in hours.
I could feel the weight of the day lifting, replaced by determination.
The engagement party, the wedding, the chaos—they were all part of the story, but they weren’t going to define my experience here.
Not when I had my friends, not when I remembered why I was here in the first place.
The movie continued, laughter echoing softly in the room.
Mira threw a popcorn kernel at me, which I caught with a small chuckle.
Aria reached over, squeezing my hand gently.
And in that moment, amidst the chaos of a world trying to pull me into old patterns, I felt grounded.
Safe.
Strong.
No matter what drama awaited outside the door, no matter what games were being played, I had this—friendship, support, love.
And that was more than enough.
I leaned back, letting myself be carried by the laughter on the screen, by the warmth of the girls beside me.
The past could wait.
The chaos could wait.
Tonight, it was just us.
And for the first time in hours, I felt like I could breathe.
Because sometimes, the hardest battles weren’t fought against enemies or manipulative mothers—they were fought inside your own chest, against doubt and fear.
And I was ready.
Ready to face it all.
Ready to face him.