MasukNATHANIEL“Excuse?” I scoff, the sound sharp, disbelieving. “I did not exaggerate anything. I…” I stop myself. Because why the hell am I explaining myself? I owe him nothing.“You know what,” my tone flattens as I pull back from the edge of saying too much, “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” And I turn to leave, but his hand clamps around my bicep.The grip is rough. Aggressive. Not meant to stop me, but to challenge me.I go still, my gaze dropping first to his hand, before I look back at him.“Get your hand off me,” I order, my voice stripped of the concern I felt a few minutes ago, replaced with anger beneath it.“I will,” he says, stepping closer, his grip tightening instead of loosening, his breath carrying the faint edge of alcohol, not enough to dull him, just enough to make him reckless. “But you’re going to admit it first.”My jaw locks.“That you told her that so she would panic. So she wouldn’t leave with me.” A pause settles between us. “Admit it.”I yank my arm free
NATHANIELTwo days ago, I left work earlier than I should have, telling myself that the distance from the office would somehow make the decisions easier to navigate.That was the justification. And it held on all the way until I got home.When I arrived, I went to Grace. Because it made sense that I check on her now that I'm here. That it was responsible, and had nothing to do with anything else, even though I was sure she would not be alone.My hand settled on the knob and stayed there for a second longer than necessary, long enough for hesitation to register, long enough for me to reconsider and walk, but then I heard them talking.“What’s complicated?” Grace’s voice, light and curious, carried through the door with a clarity that made stepping away feel like a conscious decision rather than an instinctive one.I leaned back against the door not fully, not enough to draw attention, but enough to remain close, enough to hear what came next.“It’s a grown-up word adults use when it’s
BETTYWhy the hell does an almost seven-year-old have a television in her bedroom? That’s my first question.My second is, who thought this was a good idea? And that doesn’t need to be answered because I already know. Nathaniel.I turn toward Grace, and she is completely absorbed, her eyes glued to the screen, her entire body angled toward it as if nothing else in the world exists at the moment.She doesn’t even notice me.I set the cookie jar down on her bedside table and walk straight in front of the television, blocking it entirely.I get an immediate protest.“Mom, you’re blocking the TV!” She fumbles for the remote and pauses the movie with surprising speed, her expression already full of offense.“You didn’t even hear me come in,” I point out, folding my arms.“Sorry,” she says quickly, though her eyes flick back to the screen like she’s afraid it might disappear if she looks away too long.“But my favorite part is coming. Can I watch just a few more minutes? Pleeease….pleeease…
BETTY“I love you, Betty.”The words echo in my head once, twice, then a third time, each repetition settling deeper than the last until I can’t seem to move past them.I freeze in his arms, and my lips part slightly, the response right there, hovering, ready, but it doesn’t come.We stay like that a second too long, suspended in something that should have been simple, until I feel the shift in him before I see it.His grip loosens around my waist, his hands no longer holding me with the same certainty, and when I look up, his expression has changed.The amusement is gone. Replaced with something quieter. Something he smooths over quickly. Too quickly.“You don’t have to say anything right now.” He breaks the silence, before his hands fall away completely as he straightens, putting just enough space between us to make the absence noticeable.“I just needed you to know.”A breath escapes me, small and uneven, and I nod, forcing a faint smile that doesn’t quite reach where it’s supposed
BETTYIt has been a week since Grace was discharged, and the compound has settled into a rhythm that feels almost too careful, as though we are all quietly trying not to disturb something fragile that has not yet fully healed.After a little back and forth, we agreed she should stay in the main house, in her room, surrounded by the things she loves, and that make her feel safe without having to think about it.It hadn’t been an easy decision for me to accept, not when every instinct in me had been screaming to keep her close, to bring her back to the guest house where I could watch her every movement, measure every breath, reassure myself constantly that she was fine.It felt wrong. Still does, sometimes.But she has been healing well. Better than I allowed myself to hope for in those first hours at the hospital.And that has made it easier to breathe, easier to loosen the grip I did not realize I had tightened so much.The swelling has gone down, the pain never came, and there has bee
Rhys’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly at the doctor’s words, the shift subtle enough that most people would miss it, but I catch it because I know him wat too well. Beside me, Amanda moves in the opposite direction entirely, her body angling closer as her hand tightens slightly around my arm, as though proximity alone is enough to justify presence.“I’m going to be her stepmother,” she says, her tone steady, almost composed, though there is a note of insistence beneath it that makes the statement feel less like fact and more like something she is trying to cement into place. “I should be here.”I tilt my head slightly, my gaze narrowing as I look at her, irritation sharpening into something colder, because the word stepmother lands differently now than it did before, heavier, misplaced, undeserved.On the other side of the bed, my attention is drawn when Rhys reaches for Betty.It happens quickly, his hand coming up to cup her face with a familiarity that feels practiced rather th
Hi my beautiful readers 🤍 I know I’ve been quiet for the last two days, and I wanted to thank you for your patience and kindness. The holidays asked me to slow down for a moment, but I never stopped thinking about this story or about you. I promise to resume posting two chapters a day starting
BETTYI stare at the black gown draped over my body, and I nod. It’s simple and elegant. The kind of dress that whispers rather than shouts.I chose it because I don’t want to stand out tonight, mainly because Rhys seems to command every room he walks into.My stomach twists with nerves, but undern
BETTYThe Virnkirk’s really do know how to throw a party.Every corner of this house hums with quiet wealth, soft jazz, expensive laughter, and glasses chiming like silver bells.I look around and recognize more faces than I expect to. Most of them are always on Harriette’s guest list and part of he
NATHANIELFor the first time in a very long time, I feel good.Good in a way I can’t quite explain, lighter, almost giddy. The kind of good that only comes when you finally convince yourself that the storm has passed.The hum of violins floats through the air, soft and expensive, matching the rhythm







