Closer Than We Should Be

Amelia didn’t say a word about the letter. She tucked it under a bundle of old receipts in her dresser drawer, closed it carefully, and told herself she was imagining things. Maybe it was a prank. Maybe it wasn’t meant for her. Maybe she was making it into more than it was.

Frederick didn’t ask. He didn’t notice. Or maybe he did and chose not to say anything. That morning, he was already dressed by the time she walked into the kitchen—coffee in hand, jacket on, eyes scanning his phone like he was already behind on the day.

She said nothing. So did he.

He left first. She followed later, grabbing her bag and heading out for the clinic, grateful for the escape. She liked being useful. At the clinic, the noise made sense. The chaos had rules. It was blood and breath and sutures, and no one left anonymous threats in perfectly folded notes.

Back at the penthouse, Frederick had just stepped into the elevator when Luke called.

“You need to see this,” he said.

Frederick joined him in the surveillance room on the lower floor. He didn’t like using cameras inside the penthouse but he had them for emergencies, not for curiosity but this counted.

Footage from the night of the gala.

Timestamped: 9:48 p.m.

The footage showed a man in a hat and coat, slipping through the side entrance. A blind spot had been compromised- just long enough for him to cross the private hall and access the back door of the penthouse.

No forced entry.

No broken locks.

Just access.

Luke paused the footage as the figure disappeared into the shadows of the master hallway.

“Did either of you notice anything missing?”

Frederick stared at the frozen screen. “No. She didn't say anything about missing items." He pulled out his phone. "Jack, I need the entire penthouse swept for anything out of the ordinary." He paused. "Start with her room."

They found the letter tucked beneath a stack of papers in her dresser. Folded once. No envelope. No name.

You’re not welcome here.

Luke placed it on Frederick’s desk without saying anything.

Frederick stared at it and didn't respond.

****

Amelia came home early as Frederick was waiting in the living room, hands clenched at his sides, the note sitting on the coffee table like evidence.

She stepped inside and paused.

He didn’t give her time to settle.

“When were you going to tell me?” he asked.

She didn’t need to ask what he meant. Her eyes landed on the letter, and her breath caught but only for a second.

“I wasn’t.”

“Someone broke into the penthouse. That’s not nothing.”

“I handled it.”

“You hid it.”

“I thought it was just someone trying to scare me,” she said. “And clearly, it worked.”

He stepped toward her, jaw tight. “You’re not the only one at risk here.”

“I know that. But maybe I didn’t want to be questioned. Or treated like a liability.”

His voice dropped, dangerous now. “You think that’s what this is? Do you have any idea how much danger you could be in?"

“I think you like being in control of everything. Especially me.”

He stared at her like she’d slapped him. “You’re living in my home. You’re using my name. You’re pretending to be my fiancée for one reason—”

She cut him off. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Their eyes locked.

Then he stepped closer.

Too close.

Her chest rose and fell just once before she said, “Don’t.”

He stopped. "Amelia, if we're going to do this, I need to know things. You can't keep a threat from me. A threat managed to get through my doors and into your room and your first instinct was to keep it away from me? Who else would protect you if not me?"

“I’m not your problem,” she said, quietly.

"You're my responsibility." He stepped closer to her.

She felt the tears gather in her eyelids. She was lying. Everything was a façade. She only left that morning because she felt unsafe. She was scared. She had no one to trust and she knew no one. She didn't belong here.

Frederick caught sight of the first tear that dropped and he lost control. Quietly closing the distance between them, he wrapped his arms around her. She sobbed quietly.

Frederick's heart jumped as he fought to keep the emotions he's tucked away for 6 years hidden.