I’m under the spray when he slips in beside me.
We don’t speak. We just hold each other beneath the warm spray, clinging to the familiar comfort of skin and breath and shared relief. For a long while, it’s enough.
The rest of the day unfolds peacefully. We dote on Alicia, curled up together in the family room, watching her favorite movies on repeat. When Colin tells her he isn’t going to work—that he’s staying home with her instead—the look on her face does more for her recovery than any medication ever could.
I take it all in. Alicia nestled against her father’s chest. Ethan curled up at my side, feet tangled with mine.
My world feels complete.
This is how it should always be.
Later that night, as we settle into our bedroom, Colin breaks the silence.
“Do you think your mom would mind staying with Alicia this weekend?”
I turn to him, puzzled.
“The awards ceremony,” he adds. “Saturday. In Miami. Montgomery Clifford is one of the nominees.”
I close my eyes and let out a sigh. “I know. It just slipped my mind with everything that’s been happening.” I pause, then meet his gaze. “Colin, I can’t go. Even if the doctor says she’s out of danger, even with my mom here, she’s still on antibiotics. I want to stay close.”
He cups my face in his hands, his tone calm, measured. “If this were anything more serious, I wouldn’t go either. But with Jonathan out of the country, there’s no one else to step in. I can’t miss this.”
“I know,” I say softly. “You’ll go. And you’ll be back on Sunday, just like we agreed.”
Wanting to ease his guilt—and knowing how much he despises navigating those events alone—I add, “Take Hannah with you. She’s much better at handling those things than I am.”
He studies me for a long moment, his eyes searching my face.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” he asks. “You still have all of Friday to decide. By Saturday morning, Alicia will already be feeling much better.”
“I’m sure,” I reply. “I’ll stay with Alicia. And you’ll take Hannah—who, as head of PR, will represent the company perfectly.”
He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips before gathering me into his arms. I settle against him, closing my eyes, letting his touch ground me.
Maya
"Maya. My office."
Colin's voice is low, clipped, as he strides past my desk Friday morning. I gather my things quickly, knock three times on the half-open door, and step inside.
"Close the door," he says before I can take another step.
My stomach knots. After the way he bolted from the office the moment he came out of the bathroom—after I'd ridden him hard on the couch, left raw and undone in the wreckage of it—and then vanished all of yesterday with nothing but a single email instructing me to cancel and reschedule his meetings, no explanation at all... I hadn't expected him to come looking for me again so soon.
"Change of plans." His tone leaves no room for negotiation. "You're coming with me to Miami. Make the arrangements and book yourself a room on the same floor as mine."
The sudden rush in my chest is almost painful. My heart pounds so violently I fear it might crack my ribs.
He pulls his wallet from his jacket, slides out his black card, and holds it out to me. "Buy something suitable for the event. Price doesn't matter."
“I can buy my own,” I snap, sharper than I intend. The memory of the last time he shoved money at me still lingers. “I told you—if there’s a dress you want to see me in, then buy it yourself. That, I’ll accept.”
He smirks, but doesn't lower his hand. "Then pick something I'll want to see you wearing, and it'll be the same as if I'd chosen it for you."
I can't help the slow smile that curves my lips as I take the card from him.
We land in Miami right on schedule.
