Aria's POV
We claimed two seats at the bar, and Rachel ordered us both gin and tonics.
"To putting bitches in their place," she declared, raising her glass.
"To good friends who have your back," I countered.
We clinked glasses and drank.
The gin was sharp and cold, exactly what I needed. The bartender, a guy in his twenties with impressive tattoos, kept them coming without us having to ask.
Three drinks in, Rachel's expression shifted.
"So." She turned to face me fully. "Are we going to talk about it?"
My stomach dropped. "Talk about what?"
"Aria." Her voice gentled. "Come on."
I took another long sip. "I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do." She caught my wrist gently. "Ethan. Clara. All of it."
The name hit like a physical blow.
I tried to pul
