Semua Bab Beneath the Surface : Bab 31 - Bab 40

After everything that happened today; from walking into that awkward mess with Kimberley at the office to watching Drew spiral into a panic attack right before my eyes, I was mentally drained. I kept reliving those moments on repeat, trying to sort through my own tangled emotions, my concern for Drew, and this new confusing presence of Kimberley.When I finally got to my street, all I wanted was a hot shower, a change of clothes and a good rest. If only I knew that my day was about to have a part two.I wanted silence but silence was the last thing I got.Because there he was.Max.Standing right in front of my door. This Max, Drew drama was now becoming a daily routine and I couldn't help but wonder when all of this would end so I could finally enjoy some normalcy.His hands were in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched forward like someone preparing to be hit by a storm. My storm.I stopped a few feet away and just stared.He saw me and straightened, offering a weak smile. “He

Lila’s POVThe street lights blurred past me in long golden streaks, the engine humming beneath me like a low heartbeat.I didn’t know what I was doing. Only that I was doing it. That Drew’s voice had unraveled something inside me, something tight and brittle and aching and I couldn’t ignore it. Not tonight. Not when he sounded like he was about to break.I drove like the road was pulling me in, like something inside knew this moment mattered more than anything else.My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter the closer I got to his penthouse. My thoughts were loud, my breath uneven, my chest too full with feelings I didn’t want to name. This shouldn’t have been my problem. But it was. It had become mine the day he stopped being just my boss and became something more, something complicated and raw and confusing.When I pulled up outside his building, I parked without thinking, my eyes fixed on the high rise like it might swallow me whole. A part of me wanted to turn around and it ke

I blinked several times, hoping my eyes were deceiving me but no. She was still standing in the middle of my living room like she belonged here, wearing that familiar floral patterned blouse and grinning like this was a planned vacation.“Mom,” I said, voice low but shaky, “what are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”She was already gliding around the living room, examining the little changes I’d made since the last time she visited, which was well over a year ago.“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, waving a hand like her sudden appearance wasn’t jarring. “I had a few supplies I needed to pick up for the store, and instead of using the usual delivery channels, I thought, why not come myself? Besides, I’ve missed you.”Her smile was warm. Familiar. Comforting.And terrifying.Because the only thing running through my mind was She’s going to find out.My gaze dropped to my oversized, worn out T-shirt, the one I only wore on days I wanted to feel like a soft heap of sadnes

The aroma of sizzling eggs and toasted bread stirred me awake.For a moment, I just lay there, listening to the soft clatter of pans from the kitchen and the hum of my mother’s voice as she hummed one of her favorite hymns under her breath. Something about it made my heart warm, it was the sound of comfort, of home.I padded out of bed, rubbing my eyes, and slowly sat up, stretching like a cat. My oversized T-shirt slid off one shoulder, and I tugged it back absently. I peeked into the kitchen and there she was, standing barefoot in one of my old aprons, her hair wrapped in a scarf, swaying gently as she flipped something on the pan.She was also humming. My mom always hummed when she was content, sometimes hymns, sometimes old school tunes from the 80s that she'd dance to in the kitchen when I was little. This morning, it was one of those old school tunes. A familiar one. It wrapped around the house like sunlight, gentle, soft, reassuring.“Good morning,” I said with a smile.She tu

If I could bottle the last seven days and keep them tucked safely in a corner of my heart, I would. This week with my mom was the kind of softness I didn’t realize I’d been craving. Her presence had filled the quiet spaces in my apartment, and in me.Every morning, she woke up earlier than I did just to make breakfast; toast, eggs and pancakes with lots of honey on some days and oat porridge when she thought I needed something “nourishing.” And every afternoon, she packed my lunch with a little sticky note tucked inside. Sometimes it was a verse from the bible to keep me going and other times it was just, “You’re doing great, sweetheart” or “You mean the world to me. I love you”Every night, when I came home tired, she’d already have something simmering on the stove, humming her favorite songs as she stirred. I told her that i was going to be in charge of dinner but she did it regardless just like she did back home.My home felt lived in and warm. Less like a hiding place and more lik