The morning after

Sleep was a stranger Rhea had stopped expecting.

She lay on her side, her eyes fixed on the pale light creeping through the curtains, while Noah breathed softly beside her on the narrow couch. He had fallen asleep with his arm draped across her waist, his face relaxed and peaceful in a way that made her chest ache. She watched him for a long moment, studying the curve of his jaw, the way his lips parted slightly with each breath, and felt a wave of guilt so sharp it nearly made her sick.

He was good and kind. He was everything she had ever wanted.

And she was lying to him.

She thought about the photo she had seen on her mother's phone. The man with the salt-and-pepper hair and the eyes she had memorized in the dark of a hotel room two years ago. She wondered if he remembered her and would say something when they met. She wondered if her mother had shown him her photo too, if he already knew who she was.

The questions circled in her mind like vultures, each one worse than the last, and by the time the sun finally rose, Rhea had not slept at all.

Noah stirred beside her, blinking against the morning light. He found her staring at the ceiling and propped himself up on one elbow, his brow furrowed with concern.

"You're awake," he said, his voice rough with sleep. "Did you even sleep?"

"Not really," she admitted.

He sat up fully, rubbing his eyes. "Rhea, what's going on? You've been like this since last night."

"I'm just tired," she said, forcing a smile that felt hollow on her face. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing." He reached for her hand, his fingers warm and steady against hers. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

She looked at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, and felt the words rise in her throat. I slept with my mother's boyfriend two years ago. And now she's dating him. She opened her mouth, ready to let the truth spill out, ready to let him decide if he could still love her after everything.

But the words would not come.

"I know," she said instead. "It's just my mother. She's changing, and I don't know how to handle it."

He studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "She's dating someone, right? You mentioned that last night."

Rhea nodded, grateful for the excuse. "I just don't want her to get hurt."

"She's a grown woman," Noah said gently. "She can handle herself."

"I know." She squeezed his hand, wishing she could believe it. "I know."

He made her coffee while she showered, and they sat together on the couch, the morning sun warming their faces. He talked about his parents' dinner again, about how excited they were to meet her, and she nodded along, making promises she was not sure she could keep.

"I'll be there," she said, though the words felt like a lie.

He kissed her forehead and left for work, and the moment the door closed behind him, the weight of everything came crashing down.

She picked up her phone and stared at her mother's name. She had to cancel. She could not do this. She could not spend a weekend pretending she did not know the man who had held her in the dark. She could not look at her mother's hopeful face and smile while her insides were crumbling.

She called before she could lose her nerve.

"Rhea!" Melissa's voice was bright, almost giddy, and Rhea felt her resolve weaken. "I was just thinking about you."

"Hey, Mom." She hesitated, the words stuck in her throat. "I was calling about the weekend."

"Oh, I'm so excited." Melissa kept talking, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Alaric bought flowers yesterday, just because. And he remembered that I like lavender, which I only mentioned once. Can you believe that? He listens, Rhea. He actually listens."

Rhea closed her eyes. She could hear the smile in her mother's voice, could picture the way her eyes probably lit up when she talked about him.

"I told him all about you," Melissa continued. "He's so excited to meet you. He asked what you like, what makes you laugh. I told him everything."

Everything. The word echoed in Rhea's head, and her stomach dropped. What did that mean? Had her mother shown him photos? Had she told him about Rhea's childhood, her fears, her dreams?

"Mom," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "About the weekend—"

"I already bought you a dress." Melissa's voice softened, and Rhea could hear the hope in it. "It's hanging in your old closet. I hope you like it. I want everything to be perfect, Rhea. This is important to me. You're important to me."

Rhea opened her mouth to protest, to make an excuse, to say anything that would get her out of this. But the words would not come. Her mother sounded happier than she had ever heard her and ever seen her. And she was about to destroy it.

"Okay," she heard herself say. "I'll be there."

She hung up and stared at her phone, her hands shaking. She was trapped. There was no way out.

---

She went to work that afternoon, barely functioning. Maya took one look at her face and pulled her aside.

"Okay, what's going on?" Maya demanded, her arms crossed. "You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"I haven't," Rhea admitted. "My mother is dating someone. She wants me to meet him this weekend."

Maya raised an eyebrow. "That's a good thing, isn't it? She's finally moving on."

"I guess."

"You don't sound convinced." Maya studied her, her eyes narrowing. "What are you so afraid of?"

Rhea wanted to say it. She wanted to tell Maya everything, to let the secret out and let someone else carry the weight of it for just a moment. I slept with him two years ago. And now he's my mother's boyfriend.

But the words would not come.

"What if he hurts her?" she said instead. "She's been broken for so long. I don't think she could survive being broken again."

Maya's expression softened. "What if he doesn't? What if he makes her happy?"

Rhea had no answer. She excused herself to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. Dark circles ringed her eyes. Her skin was pale, she looked like a ghost.

She thought about that night two years ago.

She had been twenty-one, fresh off the discovery that her boyfriend Marcus had been cheating on her with her best friend. She had felt worthless, stupid, used. She had gone to a hotel bar, intending to drink until she forgot her own name.

And then he walked in. Tall, handsome, with salt-and-pepper hair and eyes that looked at her like she was the only person in the room.

He had sat beside her, ordered a drink, and said nothing. It had been his silence that drew her in, the way he did not try to fill the space with empty words or cheap pick-up lines.

"You look like you need someone to remind you that you're worth more than how someone else treats you," he had finally said.

She had laughed bitterly. "I don't even know you."

"Maybe that's why you can talk to me."

They had talked for hours. He listened to her story without judgment, without pity. He made her laugh and feel seen.

And when she had finally kissed him, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

She had woken up the next morning, watched the sunrise paint shadows across his face, and felt a terror she could not name. Not of him, but of what he made her feel. So she ran. She dressed in silence and left before he woke, and she had never looked back.

Until now.

She splashed water on her face and returned to her desk. Maya was still watching her, but she did not ask any more questions. Rhea spent the rest of the day staring at her computer screen, her mind somewhere else entirely.

She had to go. If she canceled, her mother would be devastated. And after everything Melissa had sacrificed for her, after all the years she had spent alone, Rhea owed her this much.

She pulled out her phone and typed a message to her mother: "I'll be there."

---

That night, Rhea stood in front of her closet and pulled out a dress. It was simple but elegant, white and flowing, the kind of dress that made her feel like someone else. She held it up, imagining the weekend, imagining the moment she would walk in and see Alaric for the first time in two years.

Her phone buzzed on the dresser. She picked it up and saw her mother's name on the screen.

"Hi, Mom," she said, forcing lightness into her voice.

"I have a surprise for you," Melissa said, her voice practically singing with excitement.

Rhea's blood ran cold. "What surprise?"

"Alaric wants to take us out to dinner tonight. He wants to meet you before the weekend."

Rhea's hand tightened around the phone. "Tonight?"

"Yes! He's so excited to finally meet you. I've already made reservations. Please, Rhea. Just dinner."

She opened her mouth to protest, to make an excuse, to say anything that would get her out of this. But her mother's voice was so full of hope that she could not bring herself to shatter it.

"Okay," she heard herself say. "I'll be there."

She hung up and stared at the dress in her hands. She had planned to see him at the villa, in three days, with time to prepare herself. But now she was going to see him tonight, and she had no idea what she would say.

She thought about his face, his voice, the way he had looked at her in the dark of that hotel room. She thought about the secret she was carrying, the one that could destroy everything.

And she knew, with a certainty that made her heart race, that nothing would ever be the same again.