Emery’s POVIt was past noon when I opened the balcony door, letting in a soft breeze that smelled like distant rain and city heat. The sky was a cloudless gray—too pale to be called gloomy, too quiet to call beautiful. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed and faded. The world kept spinning.I didn’t feel ready for it.Inside, the living room was mostly quiet. Just the rustle of the newspaper someone had left folded on the edge of the couch and the soft murmur of the TV left on a low volume. Killian was in the office, working through emails and phone calls, his voice sharp and clipped through the closed glass wall.We hadn’t said much since the morning. Not out of coldness—but something heavier. That kind of silence that comes after you’ve said everything too honestly, and all that’s left is the ache of it.I stood barefoot, fingers gripping the edge of the balcony door, staring out over the skyline that stretched like a painting I couldn’t read.Then my phone buzzed.I almost di
Emery POVThe heaviness that followed the next morning more than the night The air inside the penthouse was still, but it wasn't the kind of silence that called for attention, it was the kind that wrapped itself around everything like a second skin and it was enough to make me too aware of the small things, the soft thud of my heart, the slow rise and fall of my chest, the way the walls felt like they were listening.The early sunlight shone through the windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor.I sat on the chair by the kitchen counter, knees rested slightly on the other, with a mug of coffee cradled in both hands. The mug was warm when I first held it, but now the coffee had gone cold. But still, I didn’t put it down.I wasn’t drinking it.I just needed something to hold.My hands traced the lines on the ceramic, slowly and my thumb brushed the rim, again and again. I didn't stop cuz I liked the weight of it in my palms, I liked the illusion of control it gave me.Behin
Emery POVThe silence that followed her death—and his confusion—wasn’t peaceful.It was hollow.Empty in the way silence often is when it carries too much.It didn’t soothe. It gnawed.It felt like someone had stripped the color from everything, like thUse world had stopped moving but forgot to tell me. And I just stood there, watching it blur past, knowing I couldn’t catch any of it.That morning, I lay on Killian’s bed, my back flat against the mattress, eyes pinned to the ceiling as the soft light crept through the curtains. The sun filtered in gently, casting quiet gold shadows over the floor.I had slept.But my body didn’t feel rested. My soul didn’t either.My chest felt tight, like something heavy was lodged behind my ribs.My throat ached—not from screaming, but from holding too much in. From swallowing tears, words, and pain over and over until it dried out the inside of me.My eyes had stayed swollen all night, even while I slept. Sleep didn’t soothe grief. It just numbed i
We didn’t stay long at the penthouse before we went to the hospital. The drive to the hospital was long and quiet. I kept my eyes fixed on the passing streets, I was too lost in my thoughts to even make small talks with Killian, and he didn't even try to speak to me either.With every turn the driver took, it brought us closer to the hospital, and the beating of my heart went louder and faster. Without a word, Killian reached over and took my hand. His fingers closed around mine gently, he squeezed it. I hadn’t even realized I was trembling until he whispered, “You’re shaking.”That was when I noticed my legs were shaking uncontrollably, and my palm had turned wet from sweating despite the cold weather. Sweat had gathered at the lower part of my neck, just across my chest. I tried to steady my breathing, but I couldn't.When we got to the hospital, the strong scent of antiseptic filled the air. My step halted at the foot of the hospital but I had to go in. It felt like I was moving b
Emery POVAfter everything that happened, things became quiet—but not in a comforting way. The silence wasn’t peaceful. It felt like something was pressing down on me, thick and hard to breathe through, like the heavy air before a storm hits.Even though Killian had done everything to protect me—even shutting the whole world up to do it—it didn’t feel like a victory. He had gone so far, shorted companies, destroyed careers, just to keep me safe.But deep down, I knew there would be consequences. Something was going to give. I couldn’t tell exactly what yet, but I felt it—like something between us was stretched and could break at any moment.After the press conference, Killian and I didn't talk much, just a few comments here and there. At every end of our small talk, he would whisper a little ‘you are safe.’ But my safety wasn’t my main concern anymore.It was the truth he had to offer.And every second that passed without knowing, I felt more and more air escape me.That evening, we
Emery POVTwo weeks had passed since our last argument. The silence between Killian and me had grown deeper with each day. He was barely home— always tied up with back-to-back meetings overseas or spending nights buried in work. His company was preparing to launch a new project, but no matter how many times I asked, he kept the details to himself.During those weeks, he moved like a shadow—here one moment, gone the next. Most nights, I didn’t even hear him come in. I’d wake to find the bed cold and empty, the only sign he’d been home was the faint trace of his cologne and the handwritten notes left behind. Scribbled apologies. Promises to explain later. Reasons why he couldn’t wait for me to wake.Without him, the house felt lifeless. Quiet. Still. I slipped back into the old rhythm I thought I’d left behind—eating without hunger, flipping through romance novels without caring how they ended, watching the TV with the sound off, just for something to look at.It was around that time of