Lorenzo’s presence filled the doorway like a shadow you couldn’t step out of. His eyes moved once between us—first me, then Amanda—and I swear the temperature in the room dropped.Without saying a word, he crossed the distance and came straight to me. His hand slid around my waist, pulling me in so close I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against my side. The warmth of his body bled into mine, and for a brief, ridiculous second, I smiled. Not because the situation was funny—God, it was anything but—but because in a room that suddenly felt like a battlefield, he’d just drawn the battle lines in permanent ink.Amanda’s gaze dropped to where his fingers rested against my hip. I watched her jaw tighten like she had to keep herself from spitting on the floor.“What,” Lorenzo said, his voice deep and sharp enough to make the air tremble, “are you doing in our room?”Our.Amanda’s eyes snapped back to his face, her chin tilting higher. “Why are you treating me like this?” she
If anyone had asked me what kind of day it was, I’d have lied.Said it was fine. Said it was productive. Said I was “just tired.”In reality, it was the kind of day where the minutes didn’t move normally—they dragged, each one pulling a little more out of me than I could afford to give.I stood at the construction site, clipboard in hand, trying to remember the exact sentence the foreman had just spoken. My brain refused to process it. His mouth moved, his finger pointed toward the half-completed concrete wall, but the words blurred into static.“You okay, Miss Ross?” one of the workers asked, breaking through the haze.I blinked up at him, forcing a smile I didn’t feel anywhere in my body. “I’m fine.”It was automatic now—that smile. The one that didn’t reach my eyes. The one I’d used so much today that my cheeks ached from holding it in place. I heard myself give it again and again, each time someone asked if I was alright, like a reflex I couldn’t stop.Because if I stopped smiling
I stood by my office window, one hand braced against the cold glass, eyes fixed on the slow-moving lights far below. Cars crawling like ants, streets snaking into the distance, buildings throwing their own shadows across the skyline. From up here, it should have been calming — the vantage point of control, the view of a man who owns his world.It wasn’t.Because the longer I stared out there, the less any of this made sense.Amanda’s story kept looping in my head like a record with a scratch, skipping back to the same points again and again until they stopped being words and became alarm bells.Seven years gone. Accident. Waking up in a stranger’s bed. Fogged memories. And then, just like that, she remembers me. She comes back.It should have been impossible enough. But no — she had to add another twist.She claimed she’d been pregnant the night of the accident.Pregnant.My jaw flexed, my eyes narrowing against the glass as the thought dug in deeper. If that was true, then her entire
Flashback The night air was warm enough that I didn’t bother with a jacket. Amanda stepped out of the mansion ahead of me, and for a moment, I just stood there, watching her. That red dress clung to her like it had been sewn on, flowing just enough to give the illusion of softness before it curved perfectly along her hips. Her blonde hair shimmered under the outdoor lights, catching every flicker like spun gold. And those green eyes—God, those eyes—were on me in a way that always made me feel like she could see everything, down to the parts of me I didn’t even know existed. “You look… breathtaking,” I told her, moving to open the passenger door. “That dress should be illegal.” She laughed softly, slipping into the seat. “Flatterer.” I was about to close the door when she gasped. “Oh no—honey, I forgot the bracelet you gave me yesterday. The diamond one? Can you please get it? I really want to wear it tonight.” I didn’t even hesitate. I never could say no to her. “Of course.” I
I didn’t move when Amanda spoke again. The words came soft, trembling at first, but there was a weight behind them, a gravity I couldn’t ignore. “That night…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, like she was trying to fold herself into the silence of the room. “I—I was going to tell you… about the baby.” My chest froze. The word alone—baby—hit me like a blow I hadn’t prepared for. “What?” I managed, my voice thick, a rasp that barely carried. “You were… pregnant?” She nodded slowly, not looking at me, fingers twisting in her lap as if the movement could keep her steady. “Yes… I was. But then… we got into that fight. That awful, stupid fight, and I never got the chance to tell you. And then…” Her voice cracked, breaking into a whisper I didn’t recognize. “…then everything happened.” I could feel the air leave my lungs, and for the first time in seven years, I felt unmoored. I stumbled backward a step, hands gripping the edge of the desk to steady myself. My mind raced, scram
I walked back toward my office like a man wading through water.Every step felt slow, heavy, unreal—my body moving on instinct while my mind stayed somewhere behind, still standing in the doorway with Emily’s face burned into my vision. The look in her eyes when she turned away from me… God, I’d seen her angry before. I’d seen her hurt. But this was different. This was the kind of look you only get when something inside you has shifted—when the ground you were standing on cracks right down the middle.I pushed the thought away before it could root itself deeper. If I thought about Emily now, I wouldn’t make it through this.Amanda was sitting in the chair across from my desk. Her back was straight, her legs crossed, her hands folded neatly in her lap like she belonged there. Like she hadn’t been gone for seven years. Like she hadn’t been buried in my mind and memory and grief.I closed the door behind me, the click echoing far too loudly in the thick air between us.I didn’t sit right