All Chapters of His To Hear, His To Hold: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Victor had no idea I was coming. It was a spontaneous decision—maybe not my smartest, but it felt right. He'd been out sick all day, and I figured showing up would make him happy. He always acted like just seeing me made his day, so what harm could it do? I brought soup. And Advil. And this stupid little anxiety plushy I found at the store that reminded me of him: soft and deceptively cute, but kind of unsettling when you looked closer because the stitching was so bad. I should've turned around the second the Uber pulled into the neighborhood. No sidewalks. No streetlights. Just long, winding driveways and manicured lawns the size of tennis courts. The kind of place where people lock their gates before dusk and call the cops if your car looks too old. It wasn't a mansion, exactly—but it was pretty damn close. Bigger than any house I'd ever seen up close. Columns, balconies, one of those fountains out front that looked like it should have koi fish in it. Even the air smelled expensi

He didn't let go of my hand. Not when I shifted. Not when I adjusted the soup bowl. Not when the silence between us stretched long enough to feel permanent. Victor just held on like he was afraid I'd disappear if he blinked. His thumb started brushing over mine in slow, unconscious circles. Most people's minds get quieter when they're sick or vulnerable. Victor's only got louder. 'She's still here. After everything I told her. She saw it. She saw my pushing my dad. And she stayed. She's not like the rest of them. She's not like them at all.' His gaze slid to my face again. Too long. Too intense. 'She's so beautiful when she's quiet like this. When she's not trying to hide her eye I love it. She doesn't even know how pretty really she is, that's what makes it unbearable. That she doesn't know she's so perfect that everyone wants her. That she's all mine now.' I swallowed. Quietly. He shifted a little to sit up straighter, his grip loosening only slightly. "Can I ask you someth

"Oh my god! You slut!" I gasped, nearly dropping my phone. Katy smirked on the other end of the call, cheeks pink. "Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all... the plan was to seduce him." "You said—and I quote—'I'm not going to seduce him, Anne, I'm just going to talk to him.'" I mocked her. "I was just going to talk," she said innocently, then immediately ruined it by giggling like someone who'd just rolled around in flower petals with a man damn near thirty. I groaned. "Please don't tell me it was at that ridiculous jazz café." "Oh no, we went somewhere better," she said with a dreamy sigh. "He took me to this quiet little place near the harbor—white tablecloths, actual wine glasses, a view of the water, Anne. He opened the car door for me. I didn't know people still did that outside of movies where the woman gets murdered at the end. I really thought I was going to die." I rubbed my temples. "You're impossible." In Katy's head, I caught flashes of the date. Him smiling over

"Really?" I glared. "In class? You want to throw hands now? You've finally lost your fucking mind." But she wasn't listening. I don't think she even could anymore the way her thoughts were scrambled. She threw the first punch—wild, uncoordinated, and furious. I ducked it easily and shoved her back. She came again, teeth bared like she thought this was war. "God, you're pathetic," I snapped, slamming my fist into her stomach. She doubled over with a choked gasp, but I didn't stop. This was just getting annoying at this point and I was done pretending like she hadn't earned this. "You think you're better than everyone just because you have money and a nice face?" I hissed, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her down to the floor. "News flash, Jessica, nobody wants to be you." She screamed and clawed at me, throwing punches that didn't land and insults that didn't stick. "Die, bitch! Just die already! I hate you! I hate both of you!" she wailed. Her face was red, streaked with t

I stood outside Jessica's house in my UPS Halloween costume, holding the package I'd intercepted from the real delivery guy—thankfully, no one checks IDs anymore. Cap snug on my head, package tucked under my arm like I was born to deliver justice, I rang the doorbell once and waited. The door creaked open. Jessica's face lit up with that fake little rich girl smile—until she saw me. It dropped like a guillotine. Fear replaced recognition. Good. "You actually opened the door," I chuckled, slipping the cap off and brushing past her like I owned the place. Her body was frozen in place, eyes wide like she'd seen a ghost, or something worse. "Aren't you going to offer your guest a beverage?" She didn't say anything. Just turned stiffly and led me into the kitchen, her limbs moving like she wasn't fully in control of them. She reached for a pitcher of iced tea on the counter and started to pour, hands trembling. "H-how did you find my house?" she asked, barely above a whisper. "Does