“Shut up,” Nerissa snaps, glaring at him.
“No. I’m sick of this shit, Nerissa,” he replies, setting his beer down on the table. His tone fills the living room like a sharp blow. Maeve closes her eyes for a second, bracing herself for the inevitable collision.
“What exactly did you expect? That one day she’d show up at your doorstep with her bags, saying she’d given up her life of luxury for love? Wake the hell up.”
“You don’t understand a thing,” Nerissa murmurs, feeling the alcohol start to burn in her stomach.
“I understand people like her all too well,” Callum insists. “I’ve seen that kind of story many times.”
Nerissa sits up abruptly on the sofa, making the legs scrape against the floor.
“Don’t talk about Seraphina as if she were just anyone.”
“Then what is she?” Callum spreads his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Because from where I’m standing, she looks like a married woman who calls you when her life is suffocating her and then runs back to her husband every time things get a little complicated.”
Maeve tries to lighten the mood, raising her hands.
“Callum, please…”
“No, let me finish. I’ve spent years watching my sister turn into a shadow because of some executive who can’t decide what the hell she wants.”
Nerissa stands up so quickly she almost loses her balance. She feels her pulse pounding in her temples.
“You have no idea what we go through when we’re together.”
“And what good does that do you if she goes home at dawn?” Callum asks.
Her brother takes another step toward her.
“Look at yourself. You’re a wreck. You barely eat, you barely sleep, and you’re one bad day away from throwing your career away for a woman who’s never had to fight for anything in her life.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” Nerissa warns.
“Why not? Because she fucks you good?” Callum blurts out without a filter.
Maeve jumps to her feet.
“Callum!”
But the damage is already done. Nerissa feels the blow in full force, a quick, humiliating pain. Because beneath all that rage lies a truth that terrifies her: part of her fears exactly that—being nothing more than the woman Seraphina uses to let off steam.
“Fuck you,” she whispers, her eyes glistening with tears.
Callum shakes his head, visibly shaken despite his tough exterior.
“You know what the worst part is? You weren’t like this. You never chased after anyone. You were always the smartest woman in any room. And now I see you waiting for messages like a lovesick teenager.”
Nerissa looks away. The window reflects her tired face, the dark circles under her eyes, and the wet glint in eyes she hates to feel so vulnerable.
She thinks of Seraphina, of the way their fingers intertwined in the darkness, of the whispered promises that are never kept.
Maeve approaches more carefully, touching her arm gently.
“Please sit down.”
“I don’t need a lecture,” Nerissa replies, though she lets herself be guided back to the sofa.
“No, you need to breathe and have someone tell you the truth with kindness,” Maeve insists, looking her in the eyes. “She loves you. I don’t think she ever pretended with you. But it’s one thing to love someone and quite another to have the courage to destroy the life you’ve spent years building.”
