ELIZABETH'S POV
By the time I get home, the day has caught up with me all at once.
It's strange how it happens—how the elevator doors close behind me at work, how the bus ride numbs everything into a gray blur, and then the moment I step onto our quiet street with its leaning lampposts and cracked sidewalks… all the thoughts I shoved down during the day climb right back up.
The cold settles on my skin as I walk toward our little house. Light glows from the kitchen window, soft and golden. I can already hear voices inside—Massie humming, Rose laughing at something.
My shoulders loosen a little.
This house isn't fancy. The paint near the porch railing is chipped, and the steps creak in protest when I climb them. But it's ours. It's the closest thing to safety I've had since I was eleven.
I push the door open.
Warmth hits me first. Then the smell of cinnamon, butter, and something fresh baking.
Massie looks up from the counter when she hears the door. Her apron is smudged with flour, and her curls are piled on top of her head with a clip that's fighting for its life.
"There you are, sweetheart," she says. "I was about to call."
"Sorry," I say, closing the door behind me. "The day ran long."
She waves a hand. "When doesn't it?"
Rose pops her head out from behind the fridge door. "Liz! You're home!"
Her excitement is exaggerated, but I know why—she always pretends like I've returned from a war instead of an office.
"Hi," I say, laughing.
She rushes over and steals my bag from my shoulder before I can protest.
"You look like you need food," she says. "And sleep. And a vacation. And a therapist."
"Wow," I mutter. "That escalated fast."
Rose grins. "Welcome home."
I shrug out of my coat and drape it over the chair. My body is exhausted, but my mind… my mind hasn't slowed down since this morning. Not since the meeting. Not since Liam's eyes held mine like he was trying to figure out what I was made of.
I shake off the thought. Hard.
This is home. Work doesn't belong here.
"So," Rose says, leaning against the counter, "how was your day? And don't say 'fine,' because when you say 'fine,' it means something stressful happened."
"I don't always say 'fine' when something stressful happens."
"You do," she insists. "It's your trademark denial word."
Massie hides a smile as she kneads dough on the counter. "It's true. You use 'fine' like a shield."
I sigh dramatically. "You two are too observant."
"Because we love you," Massie says.
I sit at the kitchen table and rest my elbows on the wood. "It was… a long day."
Rose raises an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
"Liam Smith came in again."
Massie stops kneading. "Oh boy."
Rose gasps. "Your mystery CEO?"
"He's not my mystery CEO."
"Sure."
I rub my forehead. "He stared at me like he was trying to decide whether I was capable or annoying."
"And?" Rose presses.
"I handled everything."
"Of course you did," Massie says with a little smile. "You always do."
Rose leans closer, squinting. "Did he say anything weird? Or… look at you weird?"
"Stop," I say. "Please. There's nothing like that."
Rose scoffs. "He texted you after hours."
"That doesn't mean anything. CEOs don't sleep."
"You sound like you're defending him."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Massie steps in before Rose can make the teasing worse. "Rose, let her breathe. She just walked in."
I mouth a thank you toward her.
Massie returns to her dough, but her voice softens. "You're tense, sweetheart."
"I'm okay."
She gives me a look that says she doesn't fully believe me.
I exhale. "I'm just… tired."
All three of us fall into a comfortable rhythm—Massie cooking, Rose talking about her classes, me slowly returning to myself.
It's good.
It's home.
Dinner is warm and easy.
We sit at the kitchen table with bowls of creamy potato soup and a plate of garlic bread that Rose almost burns twice. She drops butter on her shirt, curses dramatically, and Massie flicks her with a towel.
"Language," Massie scolds.
"I'm twenty," Rose says, but she still looks guilty.
"Then act like it," Massie replies.
I laugh and nearly spill my soup.
After a moment, Massie looks at me gently. "Did something else happen today?"
She always knows when I'm holding something back. I don't know how. Maybe she learned the skill raising me.
I hesitate before answering. "Someone at work is… difficult."
"Liam?" Rose asks immediately.
"No," I say. "Becka."
Massie pauses mid-bite. "That assistant of his?"
"Yes."
"What did she do?" Rose asks.
"She keeps implying things," I say. "She's territorial. I think she wants to make me uncomfortable."
Massie frowns. "Do you feel unsafe?"
"No. Just irritated."
Rose leans forward. "Want me to fight her?"
"No."
"Want me to send her a strongly worded email?"
"No."
"Want me to accidentally spill coffee on her shoes?"
I snort. "Definitely no."
She huffs. "Then what's the point of having a sister?"
I smile despite myself.
Massie reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. "You don't have to fight every battle alone."
"I know."
"Good," she says. "Because if she tries anything worse, I'll march into that office myself."
I groan. "Please don't."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
We finish dinner with soft laughter and stories that stretch across the years—Mom's favorite pastries, Dad's terrible jokes, the small details Massie remembers about them that I don't anymore.
I love hearing them.
I hate that I can't remember enough myself.
When the dishes are done and the kitchen is quiet, I slip into my room and change into soft leggings and an oversized sweater. The moment my body relaxes, the exhaustion hits harder. My muscles ache from tension I didn't notice.
I sit on the edge of my bed for a moment, letting my mind drift.
I think about Rose.
About Massie.
About the weight of responsibility that feels heavier lately.
And then—uninvited—I think about him.
Liam.
His eyes.
His voice.
His attention, sharp and unwilling.
Why did he ask if I'd respond after hours?
Why did he look at me like that in the hallway?
Why does he care that I stay calm?
I shake the thoughts away. Hard.
This is not the time to think about him.
This is family night.
Movie night.
A rare moment where everything slows down.
I head back into the living room and find Rose sitting crisscross on the sofa, scrolling through Netflix with the intensity of someone choosing a life partner.
Massie is already dozing off in her recliner.
Rose looks up at me. "Okay, so we need snacks. And wine. And maybe donuts."
"We have crackers," I say.
"That's not a snack," she replies. "That's suffering."
I laugh softly. "What do you want me to do?"
She wiggles her brows. "Grocery store run?"
I glance at the clock. It's almost nine. The store closes at eleven, so we have time.
"Fine," I say. "Let's go."
Rose squeals and grabs her coat. "Massie! We're going to the store!"
Massie waves a sleepy hand without opening her eyes. "Get ice cream," she mumbles.
Rose gasps. "You said the magic word."
I grab my keys, and the two of us step into the cool night air.
The sky is clear. The stars peek through the dark like tiny glimmers of hope. Our street is quiet except for the sound of a distant train and the soft hum of streetlights.
As we start walking, Rose nudges me with her shoulder.
"You okay?" she asks.
"I will be," I say.
She studies me. "Work is getting to you, isn't it?"
"Not exactly," I answer. "It's just… a lot of change happening fast."
"And the CEO who looks at you like you're a riddle he wants to solve?"
"Rose."
"What? You can't pretend I didn't see it. The way you get weirdly quiet when you talk about him."
"I do not."
"You do," she sings.
I shove her lightly, and she laughs.
But then she grows serious. "Be careful, okay?"
I glance at her. "What do you mean?"
"People like him live in a different world," she says. "It's easy to get swept up in someone like that. Easy to get hurt."
I let out a long breath. "I know. Trust me, I know."
"Good." She loops her arm through mine. "Because you deserve someone who's good for you."
She says it so softly that it bruises a little.
We walk the rest of the way to the grocery store in comfortable silence, the kind of quiet that only exists with people you trust completely.
When we reach the entrance, Rose pulls a cart dramatically and smirks.
"Let's get snacks like we're planning a heist."
I laugh. "Lead the way."
And we walk inside, side by side, letting the night soften the edges of everything that's been weighing me down.