جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 30

Are you seriously FaceTiming me?” she asked as she answered the call. Chelle’s face popped up on Simon’s phone screen, and she looked nothing like the composed woman he’d left behind earlier. Her hair was pulled into a loose braid, a dusting of what had to be flour smudged one lens of her glasses, and she wore a neon-orange T-shirt that read YOUR MO GOES TO COLEGE. “Are you even allowed to use your phone on a plane?” she asked. “First class has boarded,” Simon said, adjusting the phone, “but everyone else is still getting on, so I’ve got a few minutes.” “And you were dying to see me?” Chelle teased. “I’m trying to make noodles here, Simon.” She set the phone down, giving him a view of her standing in front of his stove. Watching her there—in his apartment, moving so comfortably through his space—did something strange to him. It made him want to sit back and simply observe, to see what she’d do next. “Well, you seemed very interested in first class,” he said, watching her stir th

Chelle’s flight was early, so Simon walked her to the coffee shop at the end of the block just after six. The city was barely awake—delivery trucks humming, streetlights still on. They sat on the terrace with small cups of espresso warming their hands. Chelle filled the quiet with stories, hopping from one thought to the next the way she always did. Simon listened, smiling, already counting the hours until he could finish his meetings and see her again.He brushed his thumb over her shoulder, a light, lingering touch. “You could stay,” he said softly.She didn’t look at him. She set her cup down with care. “You know I can’t. I have work. We said this wouldn’t affect work, remember?”He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I can take care of you, Chelle. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”That finally got her attention. She turned, eyes sharp. “So you’d be my boss now?”“That’s not what I—”She cut him off, heat rising. “You have more money than you could ever spend. That’s fin

Chapter 25“There are definitely scorpions in this beach house.”Simon glanced at his mother, unsure whether to laugh or correct her. At this point, he didn’t need convincing. There were absolutely scorpions in the beach house—he and Chelle had learned that the hard way.“Is that how you greet me for my birthday?” Lillian said, already walking toward him, Victoria tucked neatly at her side.Simon straightened. “Happy birthday in advance, Mom.”“Hi, Simon,” Victoria said brightly, stepping forward with open arms.Simon shifted at the last second, intercepting the hug and wrapping his arms around his mother instead. Lillian laughed, patting his back.“Good evening, Mrs. Martins,” Chelle said quickly, her voice polite, steady. “And happy birthday in advance.”Lillian pulled back slightly, studying her. Her gaze lingered—sharp, curious. “And who’s this? I’ve never seen her with you before.”“Yes, Mom, she’s my—”“My name is Chelle, ma,” Chelle said, cutting in smoothly. “I’m his new perso

Chelle lay on her stomach across Daisy’s bed, chin propped on her hands, idly twisting a strand of hair around her finger. The room was quiet except for the low whir of the ceiling fan and the distant sound of traffic drifting in through the cracked window. Daisy sat on the floor with her back against the bed, knees pulled to her chest, scrolling through her phone. She hadn’t said anything in a while, but Chelle could tell she was listening. Daisy always did that—gave people space to say what they were trying to say. “These past few days…” Chelle started, then stopped. She exhaled slowly and tried again. “They’ve been kind of all about me.” Daisy’s thumb paused on the screen. “I mean,” Chelle continued, eyes fixed on the white ceiling above her, “you’ve been checking in on me. Making sure I’m okay. Letting me crash here without asking questions.” Her fingers tightened in her hair. “Sometimes it feels like you’re there for me more than I’m there for you.” Daisy locked her phone an

Chelle lay on her back staring at the ceiling, boredom pressing down heavier than the quiet. Simon’s absence had a way of doing that—turning silence into something loud. Weeks had slipped into months without seeing him properly, without his hands, his weight, his attention. She never complained. Never asked. She knew he had too much on his plate already.But her body didn’t understand consideration.The vibrator buzzed softly against her skin, a mechanical hum that should’ve done the trick. It didn’t. She sighed, frustrated, and shut it off, letting it fall beside her. Whatever she was craving, it wasn’t plastic.She padded into the kitchen barefoot and opened the fridge, the cool air brushing her face. The brandy bottle caught her eye—the good one. She poured herself a glass, took a slow sip, and welcomed the burn as it slid down her throat. By the second swallow, warmth spread through her chest, loosening something inside her.Back in the bedroom, she sprawled across the bed with th