KIERAN
"Are you hungry, princess?" I asked as I finished buckling her seatbelt. She looked up at me, her face pale, those green eyes dull and distant—and I felt a sharp flare of anger. At myself.
She shook her head. I cupped her cheek, and she leaned into the touch, her long lashes fluttering shut like they always did when she craved comfort.
"Are you sure? What about ice cream?" I offered gently. "Do you want some?"
Her eyes opened at that, but she didn't react. Just stared at me, and for a second, I swore I saw them shimmer.
I stiffened. "Do you feel any pain? Does your stomach hurt?" I placed a hand on her flat stomach. She shook her head again, offering me a small, forced smile—the kind that made my chest tighten. It didn't reach her eyes.
I let out a soft sigh, leaned in, and kissed the tip of her nose. Then I shut the door and moved around to the driver's seat, her medication in hand.
Once I got in, I slid the medicine bag off my lap and tucked it into the center console. The lid shut with a soft click.
One tablet, twice a day. After meals. I repeated the instructions in my head, like a damn mantra. Something to coat her stomach, ease the cramps. It wasn't a cure—but it was something. A start.
I looked over at her again.
She sat still, her profile turned toward the tinted window, lips pressed tightly together. Her lashes cast faint shadows on her cheeks, and all I wanted to do was take that pale, quiet sorrow and crush it in my fists.
My fingers curled around the steering wheel.
I exhaled slowly through my nose and reached for her hand, lacing our fingers together.
She was warm. Barely. But it was enough. Enough to keep me from losing my mind. Enough to remind me she was still here.
And I was going to fix this.
We drove in silence. That should've been normal—she didn't talk, after all—but usually she'd be scribbling on her notepad, lost in her thoughts, smiling faintly like she was telling herself a secret.
But today… nothing.
She just sat there, staring blankly ahead, and I hated it. Hated how it reminded me of the girl I first met—the one who didn't look anyone in the eye. I needed her back.
I was just about to say something when she suddenly perked up, her shoulders straightening a little. I glanced at her, then followed her line of sight.
Her dance mates.
I checked the time—just around the hour her studio usually closed. Without wasting another second, I pulled over, tires whispering against the curb, and parked the car as a small group passed by. Some girls. A few guys. All laughing, chatting. Carefree.
She turned to me, wide-eyed. I smiled softly and stepped out of the car without a word, moving toward her door. As I passed the girls, their chatter stopped and I heard the whispers.
"Isn't that—"
They didn't finish the sentence.
I opened the door, unbuckled her seatbelt, and helped her out. Her cheeks flushed pink.
Leaning in, I whispered against her ear, "Why don't you go talk to them? I'll wait in the car."
Her ears turned red as she looked at me. I pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. She shivered, goosebumps blooming over her skin. I looked up and caught the girls smiling, then watched as they rushed toward her, grabbing her hand and dragging her into their little circle.
I was about to turn back to the car when I felt it.
A stare.
My head snapped up, instincts flaring—and I saw him.
Some young guy, watching me like he knew something. Like he saw something.
I lifted a brow. He looked away, fast, as one of his friends clapped a hand on his shoulder.
I didn't think much of it. Not yet.
I slid back into the car, casting another glance at Genesis through the windshield. She was surrounded now. Not just the two girls I'd seen before, but six of them. Maybe more.
Not that I was surprised.
Even if she'd only attended one class, she had that pull—something that drew people in. A softness that made them want to protect her. Or maybe touch her.
I clenched my jaw.
I watched as they laughed, touched her hair, brushed her arm. She blushed, eyes bright for the first time since the hospital. She glanced back at the car.
I looked down at my phone like a coward. As if she'd catch me staring through the tinted glass. Like I wasn't allowed to.
She was mine. My wife. So why the hell was I acting like a damn voyeur?
I raked a hand through my hair, but I couldn't look away for long.
When I looked up again, my stomach twisted.
The guy from earlier… he was standing in front of her now. Blocking my view. His body angled toward her like he had something to prove.
He smiled down at her. I couldn't hear what he said, but the girls around them laughed.
And Genesis?
She laughed too.
It hit me in the chest like a sucker punch.
She looked so free with him. So... light.
My phone creaked in my hand. I looked down and realized my grip had nearly cracked the case.
When I looked back up, he was touching her.
Fingers under her chin. Lifting it. Tilting her face toward him like he had a right.
Her eyes were wide. Startled. But she wasn't pulling away.
Her cheeks were pink. His thumb grazed her jaw.
And I—
I saw red.
She should've pulled away. She should've flinched.
But she didn't. She just stood there, that soft pink flush dusting her cheeks, lips parted in that stunned, breathless way she always had when caught off guard.
And that bastard was eating it up.
Laughing. Smiling down at her like he had any right to. Like he'd earned that look on her face.
He hadn't.
I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. Still, it wasn't enough. My chest burned. My jaw ached from clenching too tight.
You're not a threat, I told myself. Just a stupid kid pretending he's got a chance. But the thought didn't help.
Because she was laughing.
With him.
Her head tilted back, her eyes bright, like she hadn't been crumbling in my arms just hours ago.
And I hated that.
I hated that someone else could make her smile like that.
I hated that it wasn't me standing there, pulling her back where she belonged.
But I didn't move.
I couldn't.
Not yet.
Not while I didn't trust myself not to walk over there and break every single one of his fingers.
And that would only hurt her.
She deserved to smile. Even if it wasn't because of me. Even if it meant standing on the sidelines while someone else lit up her world for a moment.
So I sat there. Watching.
I wasn't going to let it slide.
But I could deal with him later.