LOGINMaria: “Yes,” I said. Daniel still had a dish towel in his hand when I answered him. He’d been drying the same wine glass for so long that the entire thing had started to feel suspiciously performative. He looked over at me from the kitchen sink, calm as ever, but something was waiting underneath it, quietly waiting—very Daniel. “Yeah?” he asked. I nodded once. “Yeah. I think it’s time.” The smallest shift crossed his face. Barely there. Most people would have missed it. I wouldn’t have. Not anymore. He turned back toward the counter, setting the glass down carefully. “I didn’t want to ask too early.” “You mean you didn’t want me thinking you were trying to relocate me like one of your business acquisitions.” “That happened one time.” I laughed and walked farther into the kitchen. “You built an entire house because I said the farm felt peaceful.” “You liked the reading nook.” “I did like the reading nook.” “And the horse.” That made me smile immediately. His mo
Maria:The clinic had become ridiculous lately.By ten thirty in the morning, every seat in the waiting room was occupied, two dogs were barking at each other like divorced parents at a custody hearing, and somebody’s parrot kept calling Ada sweet cheeks every time she walked past reception. Ada finally pointed at the bird and said, “If he says it one more time, I’m charging him consultation fees.” The owner looked mortified. I laughed into my coffee and kept moving.The strange thing was I’d gotten used to the attention faster than I expected. A year ago I probably would’ve overthought every new client walking through the doors because of the Rothfield connection. Now I mostly just found it mildly absurd. People really did see one article about you marrying a billionaire and suddenly decided you must possess miraculous veterinary abilities. I wasn’t complaining though. Business had doubled in less than a year, the clinic was thriving, staff salaries were stable, and equipment upgrade
Maria: Two weeks passed quietly. Not empty, not uneventful. Just settled. The kind of settled I used to think only existed for other people — people with uncomplicated lives and emotionally functional relationships and refrigerators covered in vacation magnets. Meanwhile, I had accidentally married a billionaire under contractual circumstances and somehow ended up happy about it. Life was strange. Good. But strange. Most mornings now started the same way. Daniel was already awake before me because apparently, sleep was optional to him, standing in the kitchen in dark trousers and a white shirt that probably cost more than my first apartment rent while reading financial reports like they personally offended him. Coffee already made, my mug already waiting beside his because somewhere along the way he’d memorized exactly how I took it without either of us acknowledging when that happened. It wasn’t dramatic anymore. That was the thing. The love confession on the yacht had changed ever
Daniel: I left the yacht earlier than I wanted to. Maria was still half asleep when I got out of bed, tangled in white sheets and one of my shirts, her hair completely out of control in a way she would’ve hated if she were fully conscious enough to notice it. I stood there for a second just looking at her because last night still didn’t feel entirely real yet. Not in the dramatic sense. More in the quiet one. Like my body hadn’t caught up to the fact that I could finally touch her without wondering if she’d pull away emotionally afterward, when I told her I needed to check on Marcus she barely opened her eyes before nodding. “Okay,” she murmured. No questions, no guilt, no irritation. Just understanding. Then she squinted at me sleepily and added, “Try not to behave like a man emotionally raised by wolves while you’re there.” I stared at her. “You’ve become very disrespectful.” “You love me deeply anyway.” Unfortunately, yes. The drive across the city felt longer than it actually
Maria: By the time I got to Lily’s apartment the next morning my coffee had gone lukewarm. I still brought hers upstairs anyway. She opened the door wearing an oversized sweatshirt and mismatched socks, her hair twisted into a bun that looked like she’d done it halfway through a breakdown and then lost interest. Her face wasn’t swollen from crying anymore. Just tired. There was something strangely stripped down about her, like all the usual polish had burned off overnight. Neither of us spoke for a second. Then I held up the coffee. “You look frightening,” I said. She took the cup from me slowly. “Good morning to you too.” “You’re welcome.” That got the smallest twitch at the corner of her mouth, which was honestly more encouraging than if she’d burst into tears again. I followed her inside. Lily’s apartment was spotless in the aggressively controlled way it always was — everything arranged perfectly, pillows aligned, counters clean enough to perform surgery on. But the cracks
Maria: “Maria…” Lily’s voice cracked halfway through my name. I pushed myself up immediately, the sheet slipping down my chest while Daniel’s hand settled instinctively against my back, warm and grounding. A second ago we’d been laughing quietly against each other in the dark, tangled together under soft lamplight with the sea moving gently beneath the yacht. Now everything felt different. Not ruined and just interrupted by the unmistakable sound of somebody falling apart. “Lils?” I sat up straighter. “What happened?” A shaky breath came through the speaker. “I think I ruined it.” Daniel looked over at me immediately. He didn’t ask questions yet. He just watched my face carefully, reading the shift before I even fully understood it myself. “Talk to me,” I said softly. For a moment all I could hear was breathing. Then movement, like Lily curling into herself somewhere on the other end of the city. “It was supposed to be a normal night,” she murmured. “Like genuinely normal. Which
The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was my phone.The second was that something about it felt… aggressive.Notifications stacked across the screen, one over the other, like they’d been building up overnight with nowhere to go.Most of them were from Lily.Of course.I squinted, still half-a
Maria:“I don’t think I’m competing with him anymore.”It doesn’t sound dramatic.That’s what makes it worse.Noah says it like he’s stating something obvious. Something he’s already accepted.I try to respond.“That’s not—”The rest doesn’t come.Because I don’t know what I’m correcting.He doesn’
Daniel: “Why wouldn’t I?” It comes out clean. Easy. Like it belongs there. Maria doesn’t answer right away. I can feel her eyes on the side of my face, searching for something I’m not ready to give. I keep my gaze fixed on the road, fingers steady on the wheel. It’s easier this way. If I look
Sleep doesn’t come.Not properly. Not the kind that settles into your bones and stays.I turn. Adjust the pillow. Flip it to the cold side like that might fix something. Check the time.2:14 a.m.Close my eyes.It’s quiet. Too quiet.And then—Do you want it to be?I open my eyes again.“Why would







