A Dirty Secret With My Best Friend’s Dad のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

~Sienna~ The hum of the office air conditioning is the only thing keeping me grounded. I’m staring at a spreadsheet, but the numbers are blurring into meaningless shapes. My body feels heavy, a lingering ache in my thighs reminding me of exactly where I was three hours before the sun came up. The door to my office swings open without a knock, and Elias strolls in, looking far too energetic for someone who just spent three hours in a zoning committee meeting. He tosses his leather satchel onto my guest chair and leans against my desk with a wide, boyish grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Sienna," he says, reaching over to tap the corner of my monitor. "Or maybe you just haven't had enough caffeine. I, on the other hand, am starving. I just got back, and I took the liberty of ordering that Thai place you like. It should be at my desk in ten minutes." I force a smile, my heart giving a guilty little tug. "Elias, you’re a lifesaver, but I actually already ate. A late breakfast t

~Sienna~The living room is a chaotic, beautiful mess of primary colors and soft babies laughter. I’m lying flat on the rug, the plush carpet fibers tickling my neck, while Naysa uses my chest as a human pillow. Her small, rhythmic breathing is the most grounding sound in the world. A few feet away, Nyomi is determinedly dragging a plastic dinosaur across the hardwood, while Noah sits beside her, watching the toy’s tail wag with wide, fascinated eyes.I can’t stop being grateful for how well my little princess bounce back. Each of them means the world to me. I can’t trade them for anything, and I’ll always make sure to prove that every damn time. On the television, a bright yellow duck is singing a repetitive rhyme about shapes, but I’ve tuned it out."You see that, Noah?" I whisper, pointing toward the dinosaur. "Nyomi is going to be an expert in animal studies one day. Or maybe a great fighter. She’s got the muscle for it."Noah babbles something that sounds suspiciously like a pro

~Sienna~The first thing I feel is the throbbing. It’s not just in my head, it’s everywhere. It feels like my bones have been replaced with lead pipes that are glowing red-hot. Every time I try to draw a breath, my ribs scream at me, reminding me of the way the seatbelt slammed into my chest. My head feels like it’s been split open with an axe, a sharp, stabbing pressure right behind my eyes that makes me want to keep them shut forever.But the silence of the room is heavy, and the smell of antiseptic is so thick I can taste it on my tongue. I force my eyelids open, blinking against the dim, clinical light of the hospital ward. It’s the middle of the night. The only sound is the rhythmic hum and hiss of a monitor somewhere to my left.I try to shift my weight, and a low groan escapes my throat. As my eyes adjust to the shadows, I notice a shape in the corner of the room. It’s a silhouette, dark and slumped, sitting on the small, uncomfortable-looking couch.My heart skips a beat. I kn

~Sienna~Today is discharge day. After three days of living in this small, suspended reality, the doctors are finally cutting me loose.The morning sun is too bright. It cuts through the hospital blinds, mocking the sterile white walls and the lingering scent of rubbing alcohol.I sit on the edge of the bed, my fingers tracing the rough texture of the hospital gown. For three nights, I haven’t been alone. Every time I drifted off, the steady, rhythmic clicking of Norman’s laptop keys was my lullaby. Every time I woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare about a tumbling car, he was there, moving from that cramped couch to press a cool cloth to my forehead or offer me a sip of water without me even having to ask.I’ve grown used to it. That’s the terrifying part. A traitorous part of me wants to stay right here, in this room where the world is small and Norman is the only person who matters. I want to keep the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m sleeping—that raw, unguarded protective

~Sienna~ I stand in front of the vanity mirror, the coolvscent of the scar-fading cream lingering on my fingertips. I carefully dab a small amount onto the side of my hairline, tracing the thin, jagged line where the stitches used to be. The doctor was right, it’s healing beautifully. It’s just a tiny, pale split now, a faint map of a night I’m trying so hard to pack away into the back of my mind. I feel good today. I feel human again. I catch my own reflection and realize the color has returned to my cheeks, and the hollow shadows under my eyes have finally started to recede. Tomorrow, I’m going back to the office. Tomorrow, the world starts moving again. I hum a low, mindless tune, twirling around in my bedroom as I sift through my closet. I pull out a sharp, charcoal-gray blazer and a silk cream blouse, holding them up against myself. I can’t wait to get started. A soft knock sounds on the door. "Sienna?" "Come in, Mom," I say, not looking back as I hang the blazer on the outs