The Morning After.

(KAIRA'S POV)

I woke up to sunlight streaming through the curtains.

For a moment, I didn't know where I was. The room was too big. Too bright. The bed was too soft. And the smell... the smell was different. Familiar, but not mine.

Then I remembered.

Slade's room.

I sat up quickly, my head spinning for a second. The events of the weekend came flooding back. The wedding. The reception. The shed house. The kiss. The pool. The push. Slade carrying me. Slade watching over me.

I looked around the room. It was empty. The couch in the corner had a blanket folded neatly on it. He had slept there. On the couch. While I slept in his bed.

My heart did a strange little flip.

I pushed the covers aside and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My clothes from last night were gone. In their place was a soft t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, folded neatly on the chair beside the bed.

I picked them up and held them to my chest. They smelled like him. Mint and oak and something warm.

I changed quickly, my cheeks burning. The t-shirt was too big. The sweatpants were too long. I had to roll them up twice just so I wouldn't trip.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess. My face was pale. But I was alive. I was okay.

And Slade had saved me.

I walked to the door and opened it carefully, peeking out into the hallway. It was empty. Quiet.

I stepped out and made my way toward the staircase, my bare feet silent on the cold marble floor. I could hear voices from downstairs. Muffled. Distant.

I stopped at the top of the stairs and took a deep breath.

This was it. The first day of the rest of my life. The first day of being a Horton. The first day of being his stepsister.

I walked down the stairs slowly, my heart pounding in my chest.

The dining room was empty when I got there. But the table was set. A plate of fresh fruit, a basket of pastries, and a glass of orange juice. A note was propped up against the glass.

"Gone to handle something. Eat. I'll be back. - S"

I stared at the note for a long moment. His handwriting was neat and sharp, like him.

I sat down and ate slowly, my mind racing. Where had he gone? What was he handling? Was it something to do with last night?

I pushed the thoughts away and focused on the food. It was delicious. Everything in this house was delicious. I could get used to this.

After I finished eating, I headed back to my room to get ready for school. I took a long shower, letting the hot water wash away the last traces of the weekend.

I dressed in my usual clothes. A plain t-shirt and jeans. My hair was still damp, hanging loosely around my shoulders. I pulled it into a messy bun and stared at myself in the mirror.

I looked the same. But I didn't feel the same.

So much had happened. So much had changed.

I grabbed my bag and headed back downstairs.

And that's when I saw her.

Mum was standing in the entrance hall, her back to me. She was wearing a beautiful dress, her hair perfectly styled. She looked like a different person. A happier person.

"Mum?" I called out softly.

She turned around and her face lit up when she saw me.

"Kaira!" She rushed toward me, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. "Oh, my baby. I'm so sorry I didn't get to see you last night. I was so caught up in everything—"

"It's okay, Mum." I hugged her back, breathing in her familiar scent. "I understand. It was your wedding day."

"I know, but still." She pulled back, her eyes searching my face. "Are you okay? You look tired. Did you sleep well?"

I hesitated. I couldn't tell her about the pool. About Shelly. About Slade carrying me to his room.

"I slept fine," I said. "Just a little tired."

"I should have been there with you," she said, guilt flooding her eyes. "I should have made sure you were comfortable. I should have—"

"Mum, stop." I took her hands in mine. "You had the most important day of your life yesterday. You don't need to apologize for being happy. I'm happy for you."

Her eyes filled with tears. "You're too good to me, Kaira. I don't deserve you."

"Of course you do." I squeezed her hands. "You deserve everything good in the world. And I'm glad you found someone who makes you happy."

She pulled me into another hug. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mum."

We stood there for a long moment, just holding each other.

When she finally pulled back, she wiped her eyes and smiled. "I have some good news."

"What?"

"Slade is going to take you to school today. Tom arranged it. So you don't have to walk."

My heart skipped a beat. "Oh."

"Is that okay?"

"Of course." I forced a smile. "That's fine."

Mum beamed. "Perfect. He's waiting for you outside."

I felt my stomach flip. "He's waiting?"

"Yes. He said he would drive you. Isn't that nice of him?"

I couldn't tell her that I had just spent the night in his room. That he had saved me from drowning. That he had carried me in his arms and held me until I stopped shaking.

"Yeah," I said. "That's nice."

I walked to the front door, my heart pounding with every step. I opened it and stepped outside.

And there he was.

Slade was leaning against the side of a luxurious black car, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He looked different. Cold. Distant. Like a stranger.

He was wearing a simple black jacket and jeans, his dark hair falling across his forehead. He looked like he had just walked off a magazine cover.

"Kaira." His voice was flat. No warmth. No emotion.

"Slade." I forced my voice to stay steady.

"Get in." He opened the passenger door for me. It was a simple gesture, but it felt distant. Mechanical. Like he was just going through the motions.

I didn't say anything. I got in and he closed the door behind me.

He walked around to the driver's side and got in. The car started with a soft purr and we pulled away from the mansion.

The silence was suffocating. He didn't look at me. He didn't speak. He just drove, his eyes fixed on the road.

I watched him from the corner of my eye. His jaw was tight. His fingers were gripping the steering wheel. He looked angry. Or maybe frustrated. I couldn't tell.

"Slade?" I said softly.

He didn't respond.

"Where did you go this morning?"

"Nowhere." His voice was clipped. "I had things to handle."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine."

He let out a breath. "I said I'm fine, Kaira."

I flinched at the harshness in his voice. It was different from last night. Different from the way he had held me. Looked at me. The way he had whispered "Always."

I looked away, staring out the window at the passing scenery. My eyes stung with unshed tears.

Maybe I had imagined it. Maybe last night was just a dream. Maybe he didn't really care about me.

He was just being a good stepbrother. That was all.

When we got close to the school, I spoke up again. "You can drop me at the gate."

He glanced at me for the first time. "What?"

"I'll get out at the gate. I don't want to drive in with you."

"Kaira—"

"Please."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded and pulled over near the entrance.

I opened the door and stepped out. I didn't look back. I couldn't.

"Kaira."

I stopped. His voice was softer now. Almost uncertain.

"Take care of yourself." He said it like it was an order. Like he didn't know how else to say it.

I nodded without turning around and walked through the gates.

Something was wrong. I could feel it.

The school was buzzing. Students were gathered in small groups, talking and laughing. But as I walked past them, the laughter stopped.

Whispers started.

"Look, it's her."

"She actually came to school today."

"I can't believe she's not hiding."

"After that video went viral, I'd be so embarrassed."

I felt my stomach drop. Video? What video?

I kept walking, trying to ignore the stares. But they followed me everywhere. Every hallway. Every corner. Every group I passed.

They were all looking at me. Some were pointing. A few were hiding their phones.

"What's going on?" I whispered to myself.

I reached my locker and opened it, trying to block out the world. But the whispers kept coming.

"Did you see the video of her falling?"

"Her skirt went all the way up!"

"It was so embarrassing. I can't believe she's showing her face here."

I closed my eyes, my heart racing. This wasn't about yesterday. This wasn't just people being mean.

They were talking about something specific. Something that had happened. Something they had seen.

I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and opened social media.

And there it was. The video.

The moment I fell in class. My skirt went up. The laughter. The humiliation.

Someone had recorded it. And they had posted it.

Millions of views. Thousands of comments.

My hands were shaking so hard I could barely hold the phone.

"She's such a geek."

"Look at her. No wonder she has no friends."

"I hope she transfers."

"How could someone be that embarrassing?"

I couldn't read anymore. I couldn't breathe.

I looked around. Everyone was staring at me. Everyone was laughing.

They had seen the video. Everyone had seen the video.

And they were all looking at me. Judging me. Laughing at me.

I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. I wanted to disappear.

But my feet were glued to the floor.

So I just stood there, frozen, as the whispers grew louder.

And louder.

And louder.