LOGIN(Serena)Blocking James isn’t me being dramatic.It’s me trying to get my own brain back.Because when he’s in my phone—when his name flashes up, when the messages stack, when the missed calls keep coming—my head stops being mine.It turns into this loud, ugly loop I can’t shut off.Savannah’s smirk.Her hand on her stomach.“My husband,” like she was handing me a death certificate.James taking me on “honeymoon” to that place he acted like was ours… and then me finding out it wasn’t.He’d already been there. With her.For their first time together. Their memories tainting mine.Margot’s hatred, polished and precise. The kind that never let’s up. The kind I cannot trust. Not ever.The first baby… and the way Margot’s contempt got worse after I lost him, like my loss was proof I didn’t belong. Like my body failing meant I was flawed maternally.And the stairs.That moment plays in my mind. The slip, the shock, my hand reaching for the rail and grabbing nothing.The second baby gone aft
(Serena)The pregnancy test is still sealed.Like it’s a grenade, and if I pull the pin, everything I’ve been pretending not to feel will explode all over my bathroom tiles.I stand there with it in my hand anyway, staring at the stupid pastel packaging while my pulse goes feral.Haylee leans on the vanity beside me, arms folded, eyes sharp but soft at the edges.“Okay,” she says gently. “You’ve been holding the packet for ten minutes.”“I know.”“Do you want me to go out of the bathroom?”“No.”I look at her in the mirror.“I want…” I start, then stop, because if I say what I want out loud, it becomes real.Haylee waits. She doesn’t push. She just watches me like she’s ready to catch me if my knees decide to quit.I swallow hard and finally say it.“I want James here. If I’m pregnant, it’s his. I want to do this with him.”Silence drops like a curtain.Haylee’s brows lift slightly, not surprised. “Okay.”“I hate that I want him here,” I add quickly, because I feel exposed now. Raw. “
(James)Theo and Ezra are at the main table in the boardroom, going over overnight logs.That’s standard practice each morning. I’m usually here before this. They straighten when I approach… my authority subtle, automatic, ingrained.“Morning,” I say.Theo nods in greeting.Ezra lifts his chin in a quick hello. “Hi Boss.”I put my jacket on the back of my chair and open the central console. “Updates.”I scroll through the data. Or try to.Numbers and statistics are usually my thing, but today they look like someone dipped a spider in ink and let it walk across the page.My attention keeps drifting, like I’m reading underwater.I blink, scroll again, and realize too late that I wasn’t listening to what either of them just said.“James?” Theo asks.“What?”He lowers his tablet slightly. “You didn’t answer.”“I’m reviewing,” I say.Ezra leans back in his chair. “You’re staring at page one like it killed your dog.”“I don’t have a dog,” I tell him. “Let’s stay on task.”“We are on task. Y
(Serena)James stands in the doorway of my bathroom.His expression is a knot of worry and frustration, dark eyes fixed on me with too much intensity as I rinse my mouth and steady myself against the counter.“I’m fine. It’s probably a virus. I’m not pregnant, you know that.”“Serena,” he says quietly, “that wasn’t normal.”“It was probably low blood pressure,” I reply, keeping my tone as even as I can manage. “Or stress. It happens.”He steps closer but stops, hands flexing at his sides. “You’re sure?”“Yes. You can leave now.”“I’m happy to stay a little longer.”“And thank you for that,” I reply, steady but firm. “But actually, I need space.”His expression twists. “From me.”“Yes. From you.”He stares at me, searching my face for something I’m not going to give him.“You’re pushing me out again,” he says.“I’m not. There’s nothing to push you out from. James, we aren’t anything.”He goes still. “Okay.”“We’re exes. We aren’t besties. Thanks for being here but I can run my own life
(Serena)His cheek is burning red from where I slapped him.It must have hurt. I put all my strength into it. Maybe I should care.The other part of me… the part that lived through the time at Hale Manor… wants to hit him again.I lean back against the kitchen counter, trying to breathe evenly, trying not to look like I’m about to fall apart.My whole body feels hot, restless, trapped inside itself. I’m exhausted, emotional, nauseous in a way I can’t explain.Maybe I’m just tired. Maybe it’s stress.Maybe it’s him.James stands in the center of my kitchen. He touches his cheek and his eyes burn with anger.We glare at each other.“You make it impossible to love you,” he shouts, shaking his head like I’m the unreasonable one.The words hit harder than the kiss. Harder than the slap. Harder than anything.I straighten. “Good. Because I’m done wanting you to love me. I’m done with you.”His eyes close for a second, like he’s praying for patience. “You don’t mean that,” he says.“Yes,” I
(James)The second Nico hangs up, I’m already grabbing my keys.Damon Cross. Dead.No one here is going to miss him, but Nico is right. If they think someone killed him they are going to look right at us.I don’t need an alibi. I never killed him. I doubt Serena did. I mean he was painful, but she’s been through worse publicity.Mostly because of me and Mother. And Savannah.No wonder Serena thinks she hates me right now.I earned it. I need to change it. And this news on Damon gives me the perfect excuse to go see her.And she deserves someone who shows up for her, even if she never wants to see me again.***Her security detail nod me through and I ring her doorbell and wait.This is probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but she came looking for me when I was dying in the snow. I can be here for her even if she thinks she never wants to see me again.She loves me. I know she does.Her door opens and she takes one look at me and slams it shut again.“No. Go away.”“Serena,







