LOGINLORIANI gave a slow nod, letting my eyelids droop halfway. I carefully controlled my breathing so it sounded fragile, as though every inhale took effort. My hand was still wrapped around Alexander’s wrist, feeling the steady rhythm of his pulse a sharp contrast to the nervousness I was deliberately displaying.He didn’t pull away. Good.A few seconds passed in silence. The only sounds were the faint hum of the monitor in the corner and the occasional footsteps of nurses in the corridor. This VIP room was too quiet, too pristine, too… empty.Alexander sat in the chair beside the bed, leaning slightly forward. His gaze never truly left me, as if I might collapse the moment he looked away. A sight I’d once longed for. And yet, strangely, my chest didn’t feel as warm as it should have.“Alex?” I called softly.“Yes?” he answered immediately—too quickly.“Are you… tired?”He shook his head. “I’m fine.”The response came automatically. Too automatic. Like a habit he’d formed with someone e
LORIANMy awareness returned slowly, like a heavy curtain being lazily drawn back from a lavish stage. The first thing that greeted me wasn’t pain, but the sterile scent of a hospital, faintly mixed with the fragrance of fresh flowers. Too fresh. Too expensive.I opened my eyes.A pristine white ceiling stretched above me, spotless, fitted with a modern chandelier that clearly didn’t belong in a standard patient room. Cream-colored curtains fell neatly beside a wide window. A plush sofa occupied one corner. A large flat-screen TV hung on the wall.A VIP room.The corner of my lips almost curved upward, but I stopped myself in time. I regulated my breathing, making sure my chest rose and fell slowly, evenly. My head didn’t really hurt. My stomach wasn’t aching the way it should have. My body felt light, almost too well for someone who had just “fainted.”If I was honest with myself, I was perfectly fine.Footsteps approached. I turned my head slightly, careful to make my movement look
STEVENEmely was trembling in the passenger seat, her body leaning to one side, one hand pressed firmly against her jaw as if she were afraid her face would fall apart if she let go. I started the engine with hands that were still shaking, then drove faster than I should have, barely caring about the road ahead.“Em, look at me,” I said, stealing a quick glance at her. “Don’t fall asleep. Listen to my voice.”She nodded faintly. Her movements were stiff, her breathing short and uneven. Dried blood marked the corner of her lips, stark against her pale, cold skin.“It hurts,” she murmured. Her voice sounded incomplete, as if something inside her was holding it back, as if every word required effort.I swallowed hard. “I know. We’re almost there. Just hold on a little longer, okay?”The traffic lights felt unbearably slow. A horn blared insistently behind us, but I didn’t care. All I could see was Emely, and the guilt pressing harder against my chest with every passing second. I should h
EMELYMy head felt light and heavy at the same time. As if the world hadn’t quite snapped back into place yet, while Alexander’s and Steven’s voices crashed above me—loud, sharp, suffocating.“Do you think you’re some kind of hero?” Alexander’s voice was low, vibrating with barely restrained fury. “You show up, put your hands on another man’s wife, and expect me to thank you?”I was still sitting in the sand, one hand unconsciously gripping the fabric of Steven’s T-shirt. My heart was racing, my breaths shallow. The air around me felt thick and tight, pressing in on lungs that hadn’t fully recovered yet.Steven stood directly in front of me, his body angled slightly to shield mine. Every line of him was tense, protective.“She was drowning, Alex,” he said coldly. “If I’d been even a few seconds later—”“Shut up!” Alexander cut in sharply, stepping forward. “I don’t need an explanation from you.”I lifted my head, my gaze darting between the two of them. Alexander’s face was rigid, his
STEVENThe idea came from Austin—at the most inappropriate moment imaginable.The meeting had just ended. Two full hours of numbers, targets, and voices steadily rising as exhaustion went unacknowledged by everyone in the room. Some people rushed out immediately, carrying their leftover frustration with them. I stayed behind near the meeting room window, staring down at the city from above, trying to put my thoughts back in order, when Austin casually leaned against the edge of the table—as if we’d just been discussing vacation plans, not a quarterly report that had nearly pushed everyone to the brink.“We need a break,” he said lightly.I turned toward him, one eyebrow lifting. “What we need is a more realistic deadline.”Austin chuckled, completely unfazed. “That too. But seriously, Steve. Look at them.” He nodded toward the door that had just closed. “They’re barely holding it together. We should go somewhere. Together. No laptops. No work.”A few people still packing up immediatel
EMELYTo be honest, ever since my head slammed into the car window earlier, it hadn’t stopped throbbing.It wasn’t a sharp, stabbing pain. It was more like a heavy pressure hanging inside my skull, as if something were slowly pressing inward. Every time the car hit an uneven patch of road, the world around me shuddered slightly, just enough to make my stomach churn.I leaned my head against the glass, hoping the cool surface would help. It didn’t. Instead, the nausea crept up more insistently, slipping in without permission.Breathe, Emely. Slowly, I told myself.I closed my eyes and counted my breaths, the way I always did when my body refused to cooperate. One. Two. Three.It failed.The smell of the car, Lorian’s cheerful voice talking nonstop in the front seat, Anna’s light laughter, all of it blended into a low hum that made my head feel even heavier.I pressed my fingertips to my forehead. The swelling was obvious now. Every touch sent a small pulse of pain through me, sharp eno







