I slept exactly three hours.
Not because I couldn't sleep.
Because every time I closed my eyes
I saw him.
The smile.
The look in his eyes.
The way he'd said:
You always were determined.
As though he'd noticed me long before I realized he had.
My alarm buzzed at six-thirty.
I groaned and buried my face deeper into the pillow.
No.
Absolutely not.
Life was asking too much of me.
First, Adrian Blackwood returned to New York.
Now I was expected to function like a normal human being?
Unreasonable.
Completely unreasonable.
The alarm buzzed again.
Persistent little traitor.
With a sigh, I reached blindly toward my nightstand and slapped it silent.
The room was still dim.
Soft morning light slipped through the curtains, painting pale gold across my bedroom floor.
For a moment, I lay still.
Listening.
The distant hum of traffic.
A bird outside.
The muffled sound of someone moving downstairs.
Mom.
Always up early.
Normal sounds.
Safe sounds.
Unlike the chaos currently living in my chest.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.
The same ceiling I'd stared at half the night.
And somehow
nothing had changed.
He was still back.
Still in New York.
Still close enough to turn my carefully built emotional walls into dust.
Wonderful.
Just wonderful.
My phone buzzed.
I frowned and reached for it.
LILY: So?
LILY: Are you alive?
LILY: Blink twice if you're emotionally compromised.
Despite everything, a laugh escaped me.
Small.
Sleepy.
Real.
AVA: I'm alive.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Of course they did.
Lily had the reaction speed of a woman fueled entirely by caffeine and curiosity.
LILY: That's not what I asked.
Traitor.
Everywhere.
Traitors.
I sighed and sat up.
My hair had apparently declared independence overnight.
Fantastic.
AVA: Emotionally? Debatable.
Her reply came instantly.
LILY: Coffee at noon.
LILY: Non-negotiable.
AVA: Yes, Mom.
LILY: Your actual mother likes me more.
Honestly?
Fair.
I smiled despite myself.
Then the smile faded.
Because my gaze landed on the box sitting quietly on my desk.
Still.
Silent.
Dangerous.
My chest tightened.
Slowly, I climbed out of bed and crossed the room.
Bare feet against cool wood.
The box looked innocent.
It wasn't.
Nothing carrying six years of feelings could ever be innocent.
My fingers hovered over the lid.
Then stopped.
No.
Not today.
I couldn't survive another trip down memory lane.
I had classes.
Responsibilities.
A future that wasn't supposed to revolve around one man.
Even if my heart had apparently missed that memo.
By the time I reached the kitchen, Mom was already making breakfast.
The smell of butter and coffee filled the room.
Comforting.
Familiar.
Home.
She looked up from the stove as I walked in.
And immediately narrowed her eyes.
I stopped mid-step.
Danger.
Parental danger.
"What?" I asked cautiously.
Mom flipped a pancake with suspicious ease.
"You look tired."
I opened the cabinet.
Grabbed a mug.
Avoided eye contact.
Classic guilty behavior.
"I slept."
Technically.
Three hours counted.
Probably.
Mom made a quiet humming sound.
The kind mothers made when they knew you were lying, but were too polite to say it outright.
Terrifying.
Absolutely terrifying.
She set a plate in front of me.
Pancakes.
My favorite.
Bribery.
Maternal bribery.
I respected it.
"Did you have fun last night?" she asked casually.
Casually.
The deadliest tone in existence.
I nearly choked on my coffee.
Mom's lips twitched.
I narrowed my eyes.
"You did that on purpose."
"In my defense," she said lightly, "your reaction answered the question."
Traitor.
Beautiful.
Loving.
Dangerously observant traitor.
Heat climbed my neck.
I focused very hard on cutting pancakes.
Pancakes were safe.
Pancakes didn't ask difficult questions.
Mom leaned against the counter, folding her arms.
There was warmth in her eyes.
And something else.
Something thoughtful.
"You know," she said gently, "it's okay to be affected by seeing someone after a long time."
My fork paused.
There it was.
Not a question.
An invitation.
Mom never pushed.
She simply opened doors and waited to see if I walked through them.
I stared down at my plate.
Suddenly fascinated by syrup.
"I know."
My voice came out quieter than intended.
Her expression softened.
And just like that
I knew.
She didn't know everything.
But she knew enough.
Enough to see me.
Enough to understand.
That realization was oddly comforting.
And terrifying.
Because if Mom could see it,
how long before someone else did?
Campus was buzzing by noon.
Students hurried across walkways.
Laughter drifted through the crisp autumn air.
The city moved with the restless energy New York always carried.
Life.
Movement.
Possibility.
I spotted Lily immediately.
Mostly because she was waving both arms like she was directing air traffic.
Subtle.
Very subtle.
I rolled my eyes and walked faster.
"You survived," she declared dramatically as I approached.
"Barely."
She handed me an iced coffee without asking.
Friendship.
True friendship.
I accepted it gratefully.
The cold cup pressed against my palms.
Grounding.
Necessary.
Lily studied me over the rim of her drink.
Her eyes narrowed.
Oh no.
Not the look.
I know something looks.
"You have that face."
I blinked.
"What face?"
"The one where you're trying very hard not to think about someone."
Rude.
Accurate.
But rude.
I looked away first.
Coward.
Always a coward where Adrian was concerned.
Lily sighed.
Not annoyed.
Sympathetic.
Worse.
Much worse.
"You still love him."
Not a question.
A fact.
The words settled between us quietly.
No judgment.
No teasing.
Just truth.
My throat tightened.
I stared out at the crowd moving past us.
People walking.
Talking.
Living uncomplicated lives.
Lucky them.
"I never stopped."
The confession slipped out before I could stop it.
Soft.
Honest.
Terrifying.
Lily's expression softened immediately.
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand once.
Steady.
Present.
There.
"Yeah," she said quietly.
"I know."
And somehow
those two words felt like being allowed to breathe.
My phone buzzed against the table.
I glanced down absentmindedly.
Then froze.
Unknown number.
My pulse stumbled.
Once.
Twice.
Then raced.
No.
Surely not.
My fingers suddenly felt clumsy.
Lily noticed instantly.
"What is it?"
I swallowed hard.
The screen lit up again.
A message appeared.
My breath caught.
Because beneath the number
there were only two words.
Adrian Blackwood.
And just like that
My carefully rebuilt world tilted all over again.