Cassandra was there.
Lying on the edge of Alex’s bed. In a white bathrobe. Her damp hair knotted up like she’d just showered.
For a moment, my brain refused to compute. Like the whole scene was misfiled, a dream I’d stumble out of if I blinked hard enough.
And then came the sound. The click of the bathroom door. Steam curling out into the room.
“Olivia?” Alex’s voice cracked like she hadn’t expected me to exist there at all.
But I wasn’t looking at her. My eyes were fixed on Cassandra, still perched on the edge of the bed, that robe clutched casually around her. My chest burned hot, my pulse wild in my ears.
“What the hell is this?” The words tore out before I could stop them, sharper than I meant, but God, what else could I say?
Alex, though stumbled forward, towel sliding from her hands, panic flashing across her face.
“Liv, wait, it’s not what you think.”
I laughed, hollow and ugly. “Really? Because what it looks like is she’s in your hotel room, in a bathrobe,on your bedat six in the morning. And on top of that, the way you’ve been with me lately, cold in your texts, brushing me off on calls, like you’re shutting me out piece by piece. So please, enlighten me, Alex. What exactly am I supposed to think?”
Alex stepped closer, hands half-raised like she could physically hold me still. “Liv, wait… I swear it’s not what you think.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” I cut her off, voice shaking more than I wanted it to. My chest was a furnace, but my hands felt cold, useless at my sides.
She flinched. “At least let me explain..”
“Do whatever you want, I don’t care.” I snapped, the words tasting like glass in my mouth. And before she could reach me, before I had to watch her scramble for reasons that wouldn’t matter anyway, I turned and stormed out.
The hallway blurred, my suitcase wheels rattling too loud against the silence. I didn’t even notice Bobby until he was jogging after me, his face pale, stricken.
“Olivia wait,” he said, falling into step beside me.
I stopped walking, my suitcase handle digging into my palm, and turned on him. “Don’t. Please. Not you too.” My throat burned. “I’m so bloody tired, Bobby.”
He swallowed, shifting on his feet, clearly torn.
“I don’t want to hear excuses,” I said, softer this time, but firmer. “Not right now. I can’t.”
Bobby exhaled slowly, nodding like he understood. “Alright. No explanations. You need a bed, a shower, food. Let me fix that for you.”
And just like that, the fight drained out of me. “I just… I can’t stay here.” My voice cracked on the last word.
“I know,” he said gently. “I’ll book you a room at another hotel. Somewhere quiet. You rest. I’ll handle the rest.”
I blinked hard, vision blurring, but managed a nod. “Thank you, Bobby.”
He gave me a small, steady smile. “Don’t thank me. Just… take care of yourself first.”
And for once, I let someone else steer me, trailing behind him while every thought of Alex, of Cassandra, of what I’d just seen, pressed down like lead.
Somehow, in barely twenty minutes, Bobby had us in the back of a cab, and by the time we pulled up to the hotel, he’d already worked some miracle; a walk-in bookingand a room ready like it had been waiting for us. He carried my bag all the way up, set it by the door like a quiet guardian, and handed me the keycard.
Before he left, I caught his sleeve. “Don’t tell her where I am. Please.”
His eyes softened, and he nodded once. “You have my word.”
Something in me unclenched at that. For all the chaos, at least Bobby had made this simple: a bed, four walls, space to breathe. He gave me a small, sad smile.
And with that, he left me to the silence.
