“Right.Thanks for the ride.”I fumble for the door handle, determined to salvage what’s left of my dignity.“I can take it from here.”
“Eve, wait?—”
But I’m already pushing the door open, struggling with the seat belt.It takes me a minute to get it off, and then I’m swinging my legs out of the car.The moment I try to stand, my knees buckle.The combination of cold, exhaustion, and whatever emotional hurricane just tore through my family dinner has left me shakier than I want to admit. I’m falling forward when strong arms catch me, pulling me against a solid chest.
“I’ve got you,” Caleb murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.
I’m startled by how fast he was able to glide around the car, but for the moment, I let myself lean into him.He’s solid and warm, and the way his arms tighten around me makes something inside my chest crack open.I can feel his heartbeat against my cheek, steady and reassuring.
Then reality crashes back.
“I’m fine,” I say, trying to push away from him.“Just lost my balance for a second.”
“You’re lying.”His arms don’t loosen.If anything, he holds me tighter.
“I don’t need?—”
“Stop.”His voice is firm, cutting through my protest.“Just stop, Eve.”
I look up at him, and there’s something in his expression that makes my defenses slam back into place.“I’m not pretending anything.I’m fine.”
“Right.And I’m the Pope.”He shifts his grip, supporting more of my weight.
I want to argue, but the truth is my legs feel like jelly, and my head is spinning.“I can walk on my own, Your Holiness.”
“Sure you can, Princess.Right after you stop using me as a human crutch.”
“I’m not using you as anything,” I snap, annoyed. “You forced yourself into this situation, remember?”
“Megan,” he calls over his shoulder, completely ignoring my protest.“Little help here?”
“On it!”His sister appears at my other side, and suddenly I'm being supported by both of them as we make our way to the building entrance.
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter.“I can walk perfectly fine.”
“Of course you can,” Megan says cheerfully.“Right after you stop swaying like you’re on a boat.”
“I'm not swaying.”
“Honey, you’re moving like a palm tree in a hurricane.”Megan pats my arm.
We reach my apartment door on the third floor, and I realize I don’t have my keys.“Shit.My keys are still at—” I shake my head, feeling exhausted, my legs aching.“Sorry, under the potted plant.There’s a spare taped to the bottom.”
Megan immediately crouches down, running her hands under the large ceramic pot beside my door.“Got it!”
She unlocks the door and pushes it open, revealing my intentionally curated living space.Bay windows showcase the city lights, and my sectional faces a wall of art I’ve collected over the years.
Stepping into my home brings a sense of comfort and safety, anchoring me to reality.“I need to shower and change.I can take it from here.”
“We’re going to stay,” Megan says casually, “just in case something happens.”
“You really don’t have to,” I begin, but Caleb agrees with Megan.
“You look like death warmed over, and not in an attractive way.”
“I’m more concerned you find that attractive.”I manage to interject some sarcasm into my voice despite the fact I’m seconds away from keeling over.
“Take a shower, Eve,” he says tightly.“We’re not going anywhere till you’re done.”
