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Chapter Six: A Little Help From My Friends

Sarah padded through her suite in a Vera Wang slip, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed a postcard-perfect view of the upstate hills, but Sarah barely noticed. Her world had narrowed to the sound of her friend's voice on the other end of her phone.
 
"Oh my God, Althea, you should have seen him," Sarah gushed, twirling a strand of her highlighted hair. "The way he stood up for me... It was like old times, you know? Before all this... mess."
 
Althea’s sigh crackled through the phone, heavy with the weight of a friendship that had weathered everything from boarding school drama to red carpet meltdowns. "Sweetie, I get it. But let's not forget one teeny-tiny detail… the man's about to marry your sister."
 
Sam flopped onto her king-sized bed, burying her face in a cloud of Egyptian cotton. "God, don't remind me," she groaned. Then, sitting up with fire in her eyes, she declared, "But you know what? Screw that noise! Steve and I... we've always had something special. Way before Sharon waltzed in with her Medal of Honour and girl-next-door smile. He. Was. Mine. First."
 
"Whoa there, Carter," Althea cautioned, her voice amused yet concerned. "You're one step away from sounding like that time Kim stole your favourite Hermès clutch at the Met Gala."
 
Sarah huffed, blowing a stray hair out of her face. "This is so not the same thing! This is... this is..." She trailed off, unable to find the words to describe the tornado of feelings wreaking havoc on her heart.
 
"Love?" Althea supplied gently.
 
The word hung in the air, dangerous and tempting as a chocolate soufflé on cheat day. Sarah’s eyes drifted to the framed photo on her nightstand.
 
“You know what? No! Don’t even worry about it. I got this. It’s going to work out.”
 
Concerned for her friend's well-being, Althea tried one last time to talk Sarah down from whatever reckless plan she was brewing. "I know that voice. That's your scheming voice. Do not interfere, Sarah. Consider your career. Think about what the masses might have to say."
 
"Well, maybe I don't care about what people say anymore," Sarah retorted with a hint of rebellion. "Maybe I'm tired of being told what I can and can't do."
 
Althea shook her head, knowing that Sarah's stubbornness could sometimes be her own worst enemy. "You're playing with fire, Sarah," she warned. "Don't let your emotions cloud your judgment. You have too much at stake."
 
"I'll take my chances… Sometimes you have to follow your heart, consequences be damned."
 
************************
 
Meanwhile, on the opposite end of the compound, Steve found himself confiding in the one person who knew his deepest, darkest secrets. As he poured out his frustrations, Natasha listened intently, her eyes searching his troubled face.
 
"Here's a crazy idea... talk to the girl," she suggested casually. "You guys used to be joined at the hip. It shouldn’t be that hard."
 
"No can do," he replied tersely, his gaze distant as he stared off into space. "She has zero interest in talking to me. She's made that abundantly clear."
 
Natasha inclined her head toward Steve, struck by an idea. "Unless you give her no choice..."
 
“I’m… I’m not sure I’m following.”
 
“She’s back in her old suite next to yours, isn’t she?”
 
“She is.”
 
“Well, then it’s a no-brainer. The last thing Carter’s going to expect is you showing up unannounced, knowing there’s… unfinished business between you two.”
 
“…meaning…?”
 
Nat scoffed incredulously, shaking her head. “This right here, this is how you went five years without talking to her! I’m talking about using the element of surprise here. There is no universe, no timeline, no existing reality where that girl throws you out of her bedroom. I’m willing to bet it’s as easy as waltzing in there and taking a seat next to her.”
 
As Steve mulled over Natasha's remarkably simple advice, a spark of hope flickered to life within him, igniting newfound determination to find a way to bridge the divide between himself and Sarah. With Natasha's words echoing in his mind, he knew that if anyone could help him navigate the emotional clutter that stood between them, it was her. And with that thought in mind, Steve set off to rehearse what he’d say when face to face with Sarah.
 
************************
 
Sarah sat cross-legged on her bed, mindlessly scrolling through her phone when a movement at the door caught her eye. Her thumb froze mid-swipe as she looked up, her breath catching in her throat.
 
Steve stood at the threshold, leaning against the doorframe. His hair was perfectly coiffed and his blue eyes held a rare twinkle... transporting her to an easier, happier time in her life. For a moment, neither of them moved.
 
"Steve?"
 
"I know I'm the last person you'd want to see right now..." Steve started, his voice uncertain. "But I can't act as if you don't exist when I can literally smell your perfume in the hallways."
 
Sarah’s heart thundered in her chest as Steve took a hesitant step into the room. She watched him approach, unable to look away, drinking in every detail of the face she'd missed for five long years.
 
He reached the ottoman near her bed and sank down onto it, his elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward. Close enough that Sarah could see the faint stubble on his jaw, smell the familiar scent of his cologne. Close enough to touch, if she dared.
 
"I don't expect us to revert to what we were before, but I'd very much like to have my best friend back," he confessed, his gaze fixed to the floor.
 
Sarah's world seemed to come to a halt at his use of the word 'friend'. She'd just been friend-zoned, the realisation sending a pang of disappointment in her chest. But she pushed aside her own feelings, focusing instead on the sincerity in Steve's eyes.
 
"Truth is, I've missed you," Steve continued, his head hung low with remorse. "And I won't apologise for that."
 
Sarah snapped out of her reverie, her gaze locking with Steve's as she spoke from the depths of her heart.
 
"I've missed you too, Steve," she admitted without hesitation. "And I'm so sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was just such a shock to hear that you and my sister are..." she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.
 
Steve clenched his jaw, his expression pained as he recalled the awkwardness that had ensued since Sarah's return. "In my defence, I left you several messages. I've wanted a one-on-one with you for ages. Perhaps it's time to get a new assistant," he quipped, a soft grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
 
Sarah returned his smile, the tension between them easing slightly in the wake of Steve's gentle humour.
 
"So what do you say? Truce?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for a sign of acceptance.
 
As Steve’s endearingly innocent request for a truce hung in the air, Sarah felt the walls she'd constructed over the past five years begin to crumble. Her gaze drifted back to the framed photo on her nightstand. A snapshot of them at one of Tony’s parties, arms slung around each other's waists. The memory of that easy friendship tugged at something deep within her heart. Despite the hurt, despite the years of separation, there was no denying the persistent ache of missing him.
 
It wasn't just the romance she secretly longed for, but the friendship that had been its foundation. The inside jokes, the late-night conversations, the unwavering support through good times and bad. As she looked back at Steve, seeing the same longing reflected in his eyes, Sarah felt the first stirrings of hope. Perhaps, she thought, some bonds were strong enough to withstand even the harshest storms.
 
Her lips curved into a small, tentative smile as she finally allowed herself to consider the possibility of rebuilding what they'd lost… Even if he was to be her brother-in-law.
 


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