The car turns down a tree-lined street, slowing as it approaches Tristan's building.
"I don't want to be alone," I whisper.
Tristan's fingers tighten around mine. "You're not alone. Not for a second."
We ride the private elevator up to Tristan's penthouse. I lean against the wall, suddenly exhausted down to my bones. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving behind a hollow weariness that makes my limbs feel heavy, my thoughts sluggish.
I've usually love the way the afternoon light streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows at his place, the way you can see the tops of trees from his living room, a green oasis in the concrete city. Today, I barely notice any of it.
"This way," Tristan says, his hand on my back guiding me down the hallway to his bedroom.
I lie down on his bed, curling onto my side. The mattress dips as Tristan sits beside me, reaching to brush hair from my face with gentle fingers.
"Rest," he says. "You're mentally and physically exhausted."
I nod, too tired to speak. Julian appears in the doorway, a glass of water in his hand. He sets it on the nightstand, then disappears again, returning moments later with a soft blanket that he drapes over me. The weight of it is comforting.
"We'll be right outside if you need us," Julian says, leaning down to press a kiss to my temple.
But I don't want them to leave. I reach out, catching Julian's wrist. "Stay? Just until I fall asleep?"
They exchange a look over my head, then Tristan nods. "Of course."
He stretches out beside me, careful to leave space between us, respecting my vulnerability even now. Julian sits on the edge of the bed, his hand finding mine atop the blanket.
Despite their presence, my mind drifts back to Alexander's office. To Fiona's calculated entrance, her deliberate words. The way Alexander looked—irritated by her interruption, yes, but not surprised by her presumptuous familiarity. Are they sleeping together? Did she stay the night? How long has this been going on?
My eyes burn with fresh tears, but I'm too exhausted to cry anymore. The pregnancy has already been draining my energy, and this emotional upheaval has depleted whatever reserves I had left. My body feels heavy, sinking into Tristan's expensive mattress.
"I'm just so tired," I murmur, the words slurring slightly.
"Sleep," Tristan says, his voice a low rumble beside me. "We'll be here when you wake up."
I keep my eyes on Julian's face, on the worry etched in the lines around his mouth, the gentle concern in his eyes. Behind me, I feel Tristan's steady presence, solid as stone. They're here. They're real. Whatever Alexander is or isn't doing with Fiona doesn't change that.
My eyelids grow heavy, impossible to keep open. The last thing I register before sleep claims me is the sensation of being held, of being safe, even as my heart continues its dull ache beneath my ribs.
Some time later I wake slowly, blinking in the soft light filtering through Tristan's bedroom windows. The heaviness in my limbs has eased, though the memories of Alexander's office still linger at the edges of my mind.
I stretch, my body arching under the soft blanket, and realize I feel different. Not healed—not yet—but somehow steadier, as if sleep has patched something that was beginning to unravel inside me.
A soft knock at the door draws my attention. Julian's head appears, his expression gentle as he takes me in.
"Hey there," he says quietly. "How are you feeling, babe?"
I push myself up against the pillows. "Better, I think."
He steps into the room, Tristan following close behind. They move in sync, coming to sit on either side of the bed, creating a circle of warmth around me. Julian settles on my right, while Tristan takes my left, his hand finding my thigh over the blanket.
"You slept for a few hours," Tristan tells me, his thumb tracing small circles against the fabric. "We were starting to think you might sleep through the night."
I lean into Julian, resting my head against his shoulder, letting his familiar scent—clean cotton and something spicy—invade my senses. "Thank you," I say, the words inadequate for what I'm feeling. "Both of you. For being here."
Julian's arm slides around my shoulders, pulling me closer. "Where else would we be?"
The simplicity of his response makes my throat tight with emotion. Tristan's hand squeezes my thigh gently, a silent echo of Julian's sentiment. They're here. They've been here all along, steady and present in ways Alexander will probably never be.
I turn my face toward Tristan, reaching out to cup his cheek with my palm. His eyes meet mine, those piercing blue depths filled with something that makes my heart race. I lean forward and press my lips to his, a gentle kiss that quickly deepens as he responds. His hand comes up to cradle the back of my neck, holding me close as his tongue meets mine.
