I look up.
His eyes hold mine, steady and serious, as if letting me know he’s not going anywhere.
My chest squeezes hard.‘Don’t make me ask you to promise.’
I swallow and nod. “I know.”
He hesitates like he wants to say more, then thinks better of it. He comes back, kisses me once more, soft this time, and then he’s gone.
I hear the front door click shut, and the quiet that follows is too big.
I get dressed, then move through the house on autopilot, brushing my hair back and splashing water on my face until I look composed enough to pass.
The coffee maker waits on the counter, unchanged. I start it and let the routine take over. The scent fills the room, familiar and grounding, and for a brief second, I can breathe.
I unlock the front door like Ellie demanded, then I lean back against the counter and stare at nothing.
I think about last night but my mind immediately pulls back. Instead, it fixates on the weird details.
The way the string quartet kept playing.
The way someone laughed right after Sierra confessed, as if their body didn’t understand what had happened and reacted on habit.
The way Jace’s voice sounded when he asked, “Why would you let me believe in a life that wasn’t real, without knowing the truth?”
A knock interrupts my thoughts and Ellie pushes the door open like she owns it. “If anyone answers this door pretending everything’s fine, I’m calling bullshit immediately.”
Emma follows with two coffee carriers and a bag of pastries that smells comforting. Her face is careful, like she’s here to support but not sure of what she’s walking into.
I don’t even get a hello before Emma crosses the room and hugs me, tight and warm, like she’s trying to hold me in place.
“Hey,” she whispers.
“Hey.”
Ellie sets the bag on the counter and scans my face like she’s conducting a silent triage. “Okay. You’re upright. No mascara streaks. Good job.”
“Thanks,” I say, dry.
“Don’t get sarcastic with me,” she replies, equally dry. “I’msensitive.”
Emma snorts softly, and it almost makes me laugh.
Almost.
They settle in without asking permission, which is exactly what I need because if anyone gave me the choice, I would pick isolation out of habit. Ellie passes out the coffee and Emma opens the pastry bag like she’s hosting brunch.
Ellie glances down the hallway, then back at me. “Did Jace stay over?”
I nod. “He left before you got here.”
Emma’s expression flickers with something gentle. “How are you feeling about that?”
I stare into my cup, watching the coffee swirl. “Good actually. Right.”
Ellie narrows her eyes. “You sound sure.”
I nod once. “I am.”
