“Morning,” my voice is hoarse.
He gestures toward the table. “Help yourself.”
I sit. The chair doesn’t creak. The table doesn’t wobble. There’s a place already set for me—white China, a glass of orange juice, a linen napkin folded like a flower.
Lucian sits across from me and sips his coffee. “I heard you were up late. The night staff mentioned the TV.”
I stiffen. But he holds up a hand. “No one’s monitoring you, Isobel. Just… making sure you’re okay.”
I nod, eyes flicking to the covered plates in front of us. “I didn’t sleep much.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
He doesn’t press. Just lifts the lid on one of the dishes and reveals a small stack of golden pancakes with berries and powdered sugar. The other plate has eggs, toast, and what looks like some kind of fancy bacon. Not a single thing touches another.
“I used to hate when food mixed.”
“I remember.” Lucian chuckles.
“You remember that?” My eyes widen.
“I remember everything I was allowed to know.”
I study him. “Even the dumb little stuff?”
He looks at me then, truly looks. “Especially that.”
“Well, I eventually got over the food touching thing. I didn’t have much of a choice.”
I reach for the toast just to have something to do with my hands.
He adds, voice gentler now, “No one expects you to adjust overnight. Take your time. Set your own pace. Anything you want or need, you got it.”
“Can I get that in writing?” I smile, raising an eyebrow.
Lucian smiles into his coffee. “I’ll have my lawyer draft it this afternoon.”
We eat in comfortable silence for a while. Lucian refills my orange juice without asking, and when I finally clear my plate, he pushes a small plate of croissants toward me.
“You’re trying to fatten me up,” I murmur, half-teasing.
He raises a brow. “This isn’t about fattening. It’s about giving you back your strength.”
I tear off a piece of croissant and chew slowly. It’s buttery and soft. I don’t say thank you out loud, but I think maybe he hears it anyway.
Dakota skips in, wearing a blue matching work out set and a small white jacket.
“Good morning!” She gives us a big smile.
“Morning.” I take a long sip of coffee.
“Good morning, Dakota.” Lucian smiles.
Dakota slides next to me, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. “We’re going to the gym today. Isobel said she’d keep me company.” Dakota bites into a crispy piece of bacon.
“Oh, really?” Lucian’s eyebrows rise. “I didn’t know you work out.”
