"No." The word comes out broken. "Jess, he showed up at work.” “What?!” “He was in the lobby, with flowers, and I can't—I thought I was over this. I thought I was better."
"Oh, honey." The sound of her voice cracks something in me. Suddenly, I’m sobbing in my entryway, still wearing my coat, the engagement ring pressing against my ribs through the pocket like an accusation.
"He approached me like nothing had happened," I manage between gasps. "Like showing up could fix everything he destroyed."
Jessica’s tone sharpens. "That manipulative piece of—" She cuts herself off. "Okay. I’m coming over."
"You don’t have to—"
"Too late. Open a bottle of wine. I’ll be there in thirty."
When we hang up, I’m still shaking, but it’s the first time all day that I don’t feel completely alone.
Darkness has settled over the city, lights twinkling beyond my windows like earthbound stars.
My phone buzzes again — this time with a text. Dylan's name appears on the screen.
Are you okay?
I stare at his message for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Professional distance would mean not responding.
Instead, I type:I'm home. Thank you for today.
Three dots appear immediately. Then:Always.
One word, but it sends warmth spreading through my chest, chasing away the last of the cold Oliver left behind.
I run a bath and light my candles, ready to shed this day like my coat. As I sink into hot water that smells like eucalyptus and mint, I can't stop thinking about those gray eyes, gentle hands, and a voice that turned dangerous when I needed protection…
Most of all, I can’t take my mind off the way Dylan texted "always" like a promise.
Chapter two
Avery
It’s 7:30 PM, and I'm sitting on my apartment couch with Jessica beside me, my glass of untouched wine sitting on the coffee table. No questions, no hesitation—just my younger sister appearing at my door with fierce protectiveness in her eyes. Now she sits cross-legged, her hand reaching mine, watching me with concern as I try to explain again what happened this morning.
But the words won’t come easily because talking about Oliver means admitting that seeing him shattered my careful composure and acknowledging that maybe I’m not as over it as I thought. Jessica doesn't push; she just waits, the way she's been doing for the first two weeks, the only person who saw me fall apart on the bathroom floor the night I caught Oliver cheating. She held me while I sobbed, told me I wasn't overreacting, and told me I had every right to walk away.
I take a shaky breath, my fingers wrapping around hers. "Those white roses he brought…" I pause, feeling my throat tighten.
"The same kind from your first date?" Jessica's voice carries an edge of disgust.
I nod. The memory of that first date feels tainted now, poisoned by everything that came after. Twenty-four white roses.
"What did he say?" Jessica asks, though her clenched jaw suggests she'd rather not know.
"He started with my name. Then something about not deserving me..." I trail off, the panic from this morning threatening to resurface. "I couldn't stay there. I just ran."
"Where did you go?"
Heat creeps up my neck. "Dylan's office."
Jessica's eyebrows lift slightly. "Dylan Vance? Your boss whom you definitely don't have feelings for?"
"Jess—"
"The one who keeps you late for meetings and whose coffee order you know by heart?"
