LOGINLiam doesn't go in.He stands in the doorway long enough to see everything — Allie leaning forward with the spoon, Adam's ears flushed, the ease between them that has grown in this hospital room over the past week like something no one planted but can't stop — and then he turns and walks back down the corridor.He doesn't make a sound.Allie goes straight from the hospital to campus.She's barely through the gate when she catches the current running through the student body — that particular electric murmur that means something has happened and word hasn't finished spreading yet.Two girls near the journalism building. She slows."—did you hear? Felicity Montgomery got expelled.""That can't be right. Her dad is basically city government. The principal has been protecting her for years.""I'm telling you it happened. She's gone. Whatever she did — whoever she crossed &m
"You people," Allie says, setting the thermal bag on the bedside table with slightly more force than strictly necessary, "have a serious problem appreciating when someone is being kind to you."She's thinking about Liam when she says it.She's looking at Adam, but she's thinking about the soup on the desk that was still there this morning, stone cold, untouched, exactly where she'd placed it last night. About I want to be alone delivered with that particular flat finality that cut more than any sharp word would have.Adam watches her unpack the containers with the quiet attention of someone who notices things but has learned not to comment on most of them."Did you and my uncle fight?" he asks.She keeps her hands busy. "No.""You seem upset.""I'm fine.""You set the spoon down like it owed you money."She stops. Looks at him. He is absolutely, infuriat
The coconut chicken broth is perfect.She knows it is. She's made it three times now — adjusting the ratio of coconut water to stock, tweaking the timing on the herbs, getting the chicken to the exact texture that means it'll melt into porridge without going chalky. The house chef confirmed it this evening with a raised eyebrow and a nod that meant more coming from him than a full sentence would from anyone else.It's the best thing she's learned to make in twenty years of not knowing how to cook.She fills a bowl and puts it in the insulated carrier and walks down the hall toward the light under Liam's study door — the same light that's been on every night this week, burning past midnight, burning until she finally falls asleep and it doesn't matter anymore.She knocks.A pause. Then: "Come in."She pushes the door open.He's not at his desk.He's on the narrow balcony off the study — standing with his back t
Dr. Yao pulls down his mask."Ninth rib fracture. Not critical — but we're keeping him for observation to rule out complications. Pneumothorax, hemothorax." He looks at them both over the rims of his glasses. "Young, strong baseline. He'll recover. But he needs rest and he needs to stay."Liam exhales.It's not a sound — barely even a movement. Just a fractional release of something he's been holding since the moment that truss hit, and Allie watches it happen beside her and feels the relief move through her own body like something unlocking.Then the tears come.She doesn't mean them to. She is not, generally, a person who cries in hospital corridors over men who have made it very clear they don't particularly like her. But the image keeps replaying without her permission — the shadow falling, the fraction of a second where she understood what was coming and couldn't move — and Adam, Adam, running from the wing with no calculation, no hes
The performance is the best thing she's ever done.She knows it the way performers know — not from applause, not from the judges' faces, but from the specific quality of a room that has stopped thinking and started feeling. The auditorium is held breath and full hearts, and Allie is Juliet, and Adam is Romeo, and somewhere out there in those thousand dark seats there may or may not be a man with cold eyes and a phone call she cannot stop hearing.She doesn't look for him.She performs.The final act is the death scene.The stage transforms — low light, mournful strings, the particular chill of a love story that was never going to survive its own beauty. Allie stands at the edge of the elevated platform — one meter of height, softened by the cushion below hidden beneath a scatter of prop flowers — and she speaks the last lines of Juliet in a voice that doesn't feel borrowed anymore:"I seek not to l
She hangs up first.She doesn't want to — she wants to stay on the line until he says something that sounds like him, until the voice on the other end matches the man who came home early and pressed his lips to her hair and told her to sleep — but she can hear the distance in his silence, vast and deliberate, and holding on to it only makes the ache worse."Goodnight," she says.He's already gone.Allie sets her phone on the nightstand and lies back against the pillow and stares at the ceiling in the specific dark of a room where everything is wrong in a way she can't prove.He was in a meeting. She says it to herself like a rope she's trying to hold onto. People have meetings. People are short on the phone when they're working. It doesn't mean anything.But her chest knows the difference between busy and ice.And what she heard tonight was ice.She lies awake for a long
Robert Hart leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished wood of his desk. His sharp eyes settled on the two sitting across from him. “I just spoke with David Brooks. Now that the marriage certificate has been signed, we should move forward with the wedding as soon as
AllisonVivian was just fishing.Tossing bait into still waters, hoping for chaos to bite back.But what she hadn’t expected—what none of us had expected—was how fiercely Liam would defend me. Even now, I could still hear his voice echoing at the dinner table, clear and resolute: "That guy was neve
Scarlett Renwick stood off to the side, arms folded tightly beneath her chest, that signature smirk curling her lips like she was permanently entertained. “He’s in the lounge. Alone. And from what I heard,” she added, her voice dipped in amusement, “even his assistant barely made it out alive.”I d
“Oh? An actor confessed to you, and you turned him down?”“I don’t like him.”Allie could barely breathe. Liam’s gaze burned through her, dark and unreadable.He tilted his head slightly, studying her. “You’re sure?”Her heart pounded. “Yes.”Liam leaned in, his voice a whisper against her lips. “G







