I try to hold it together long enough to explain.
“His motorcycle gear is gone. His phone goes straight to voicemail. He hasn’t even read the text I sent him.”
The tears spill over, snot mixing in, and I wipe it on the sleeve of my robe. Ansel doesn’t flinch—she just pulls me into her arms.
“Stella, honey. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. Donovan wouldn’t be this mad over some fucking cake.”
“But—” I hiccup. “But why didn’t he come home?”
Ansel gently shifts me into her lap, cradling me like I’m breakable.
And then the door opens.
Donovan strolls inside like nothing happened. He sets his backpack on the ground, drops his keys on the entryway table, and hangs his helmet on the peg next to mine.
We both turn to him.
He freezes.
“Stella, baby,” he says, his voice suddenly full of concern. “What happened? Is everything okay?”
He rushes toward me, squatting down to pull me from Ansel’s arms.
The tears start and don’t subside. I am clinging to Donovan like he might disappear if my grip loosens. I don’t speak; I just cry.
The tears start—and don’t stop.
Clinging to Donovan as if I let go, he might vanish completely.
His arms tighten around me, and I can feel the confusion radiating off him.
“Ansel,” he says, his voice hardening. “Can you tell me what I’m missing here? Why is my fiancée crying like someone died?”
Ansel steps forward, arms crossed, jaw tight.
“I don’t know,fucker. Where the hell were you this morning?”
She doesn’t wait for him to answer.
“Better question—where the fuck did you sleep last night? Because you sure as hell weren’t on the couch when I left.”
Her voice is sharp, controlled, but the rage underneath it is palpable. She’s not just angry—she'sready.
Donovan blinks. “What—what are you talking about? I went for a ride. That’s all.”
He just went for a ride?
That’s all?
I know I’m not crazy. His side of the bed was untouched. Cold. Still perfectly made, like he never came home.
The ache in my chest twists into something sharper—anger tangled withself-loathing. I shove off his chest and stand, hands shaking, voice unsteady with fury.
“Do. Not. Try to gaslight me, Donovan.”
My fists curl tight at my sides.
“You did not justgo for a ride.I’m not fucking stupid. You didn’t sleep in our bed last night.”
