All Chapters of Our love to hide: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The morning after the interview felt quieter than it should have.Not peaceful just... heavy. As if the walls themselves were holding their breath.Ethan sat at the kitchen table, staring into a half-full mug of coffee gone cold. His phone buzzed nonstop beside him notifications stacking, likes, angry comments, reposts, threats disguised as “opinions.” He didn’t touch it.Nathan stood near the window, arms crossed, jaw clenched. He hadn’t shaved. His shirt was wrinkled. He hadn’t spoken since coming down the stairs.Outside, the sun tried its best to shine through the pale clouds, but even light looked uncertain this morning.Then came the sound thud... thud... THUD.Three sharp knocks against the front door.Ethan flinched. Nathan turned. Silence followed.Neither moved.Then Sarah’s voice rang out from the hallway. “I got it.”“Wait ” Ethan called, standing up too fast.But it was too late. Sarah opened the front door and froze.On their pristine white mailbox, someone had spray-pa

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Ethan stepped out into the sleek marble-floored lobby of Montgomery Design Group. It had only been two weeks since the interview aired since his world detonated and yet everything felt unfamiliar now. Like walking through a dream that had soured.He clutched his sketch portfolio tighter as he passed reception. The woman at the desk normally warm, chatty barely met his eyes.The air was colder.The silence louder.He pushed through the main corridor of cubicles, and as he passed, conversations softened into whispers. Eyes flicked up, then quickly back to screens. A man in the back corner someone from HR leaned toward a colleague and murmured something Ethan couldn’t hear. But he didn’t need to.He felt it.Judgment crept like frost across glass. Thin. Sharp. Impossible to ignore.“Ethan!” a voice called, too brightly. He turned to see Marissa, his internship supervisor, waving from her office.He forced a smile and walked in.She motione

The rain had left the world washed out and quiet, and Nathan found himself on the back porch just after dawn, a mug of coffee growing cold between his hands. He wasn’t dressed yet just sweatpants and a T-shirt that clung to him in the damp air. His eyes were fixed on the fog curling across the lawn, but his thoughts were deeper, older.He didn’t hear Ethan come outside until he was already there, barefoot and sleepy-eyed, wrapped in one of Nathan’s old hoodies.“Couldn’t sleep either?” Ethan asked softly.Nathan shook his head. “Not for a while now.”Ethan took a seat beside him on the damp bench, their knees brushing. For a moment, silence returned thick, unhurried. But then Ethan turned to him, studying the quiet shadows under Nathan’s eyes.“You’ve been... somewhere else lately.”Nathan exhaled slowly. “That obvious?”“You don’t look at me the same way.”Nathan didn’t answer. His fingers tightened slightly around the coffee cup.Ethan reached out, covering Nathan’s hand with his ow

The lake sat quiet under a bruised sky, its surface glassy and still, mirroring the clouds that hung low like they too were waiting to break.Ethan sat on the wooden dock with his legs dangling just above the water. He’d been sketching, pencil gliding absentmindedly over his journal. Scribbles, abstract swirls, half-finished outlines of Nathan’s face in different angles. It had become muscle memory at this point his fingers seeking Nathan when his heart felt too heavy to hold alone.Footsteps crunched behind him.He didn’t have to turn to know.Nathan eased down beside him, silence stretching comfortably between them. The air held a chill, but Nathan’s presence was warm and grounding, the kind of closeness that didn’t demand words.Vanessa had moved out the night before.The echo of her footsteps retreating through the house still haunted the hallways. Even Sarah had gone quiet, unsure whether to be angry, relieved, or simply tired. The only thing certain was the ache left in her plac

Sarah Caldwell had always known how to stay unnoticed.It was a gift she picked up during her parents’ worst fights when blending into furniture meant survival. Now, years later, that same silence served her as she slipped into the sleek corporate building downtown under the name S. Caldwell Media Review. A little digital design firm, fake but convincing, just enough to get her through the front desk.Lucas Greene’s name still carried weight in this part of Philadelphia. His firm sat on the top floor: floor-to-ceiling glass, minimalistic decor, and the chilling scent of cologne, bleach, and wealth.Sarah walked past the secretary with a confident smile. “I’m just here to drop off design proofs. For Mr. Greene’s PR campaign.”“Leave them at the reception desk.”“I was told to hand them to Isabelle,” Sarah lied, glancing toward the corridor lined with frosted glass doors. “She’ll know what to do.”The receptionist hesitated then waved her in.That was her first win.She passed offices a