(Jack)The club, with its dim lights and pulsing bass, was alive, full of people who were dressed to impress and eager to lose themselves in the music and cocktails, leaving behind whatever lives they led outside. My jaw tensed as I took it all in, the familiar faces, the laughter, it was a world I used to find exhilarating, but tonight it felt foreign, like I was walking through someone else’s life.Across the room, Amanda was perched on a high-top table, surrounded by her friends. I recognized a few of them, people I’d partied with once upon a time. They hadn’t exactly been the kind I’d call true friends. Most of them were trust-fund kids, people who only called when they wanted something. And by the looks on their faces, I knew that the story of how Amanda and Mother interfered with my relationship with Ruby had spread like wildfire. No doubt they’d heard everything, no doubt some of them had been in on it. I had one purpose here, and I was eager to get it over with.But it felt
(Thomas)I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling of my office. Today was one of those days that stretched on and on, each hour feeling longer than the last. I rubbed my temples, feeling the tension settle into my bones. The team was stuck on an issue with one of our latest projects, a problem that had surfaced last minute and now needed my attention. I should have felt some satisfaction diving into work; I usually did. But right now, this office felt like a pressure chamber, and all I wanted was to be anywhere else.Lately, being here didn’t feel like the victory it once had. I’d spent years building this company, giving it my blood, sweat, and every waking thought, and now, instead of pride, I felt like I was tiptoeing around my own space, walking on eggshells in a company I’d created. The board was breathing down my neck because of the fiasco with Nathan, and Jack was doing his best to keep things steady, but the whole thing left a sour taste. It was one thing to face ch
(Lydia)When Thomas told me about the lawyer’s call, my mind froze, trapped in a storm of memories and fears I’d tried to put behind me. The words “victim impact statement” hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. I nodded as Thomas spoke, but his words barely registered. It wasn’t until he gently placed his hand on my shoulder, eyes full of concern, that I snapped back to the present.“They want it in two days, Lydia,” he said softly, “You don’t have to go into detail. Just…whatever you feel comfortable with.”Two days. I managed to nod again, pushing down the urge to tell him that I didn’t feel comfortable with any of it at the moment. How could I? When we had talked about it, I had felt confident because it was better than facing Nathan ever again. But now that it was upon me, I felt myself waver.Writing the words down would entail reopening wounds, some of which hadn’t even started to heal. I didn’t want to relive any of it. And yet, I knew it had to be done.“I’ll… I’ll figure
(Lydia)Sunday morning arrived, bathed in soft, golden light that filtered through the curtains. It was the kind of serene morning that usually made me feel at peace, but today I couldn’t shake the tension twisting in my chest. Today was the day Mama would be admitted to the hospital, and tomorrow, she would face surgery. After weeks of waiting and hoping the chemotherapy would work, this was our last resort.With a deep breath, I walked down the hallway to Mabel and Miles’s room, bracing myself. They would have questions, and I’d have to answer them with all the calm I could muster. Their innocence was both a comfort and a reminder of how strong I needed to be, for them, for Mama, and for myself.I had put the thoughts of writing my statement to the back of my mind, wanting to focus on Mama instead of worrying over it. I still have time and I was sure I would figure something out.“Good morning, loves,” I whispered as I nudged open their door. The kids were already stirring, Mabel s
(Lydia)I told myself to be as calm as possible, but my heart wasn’t as quiet. I had a steady resolve to stay strong for Mama, yet as I looked at her frail hands, trembling slightly as she buttoned up her blouse, my throat tightened. She was trying her best to keep herself together, and I knew this quiet strength, this relentless determination, was what had gotten her this far. But today, even as she kept her gaze steady, there was a hint of fear in her eyes. It was a look I hadn’t seen in Mama very often, and it nearly broke me.“Here, let me help,” I murmured, moving to her side and gently buttoning the last of her blouse. Her fingers dropped to her lap, where they twisted and turned the edge of her sleeve, a nervous habit she’d had since I was little. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and felt her lean into me. Her body felt smaller, almost delicate, as though years of strength had whittled down into this frail shell. But she was still my Mama, still the woman who had taught
(Thomas)I watched Lydia as she finished getting ready, the quiet strength in her movements masking the turmoil I knew was swirling inside her. She was putting on a brave face, but I could see the worry and the exhaustion written in every line of her expression. I hated seeing her like this, and I knew there was nothing I could do to take away her fears. She was about to take her mother to the hospital for surgery, a major surgery that would determine how much time they had left. I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her, and it made my chest tighten. I hated seeing her carry this burden alone, but I also knew she was determined to face it head-on.As I approached her, I could see how much this was affecting her. She was trying to focus on getting everything organized, the kids, the house, everything. But there was a storm behind her eyes, a storm she wasn’t letting me into, and that made me ache for her. I stepped forward, my hand gently touching her shoulder. “Lyd
(Lydia)The car hummed steadily as it moved along the road, the city outside the window passing by in a blur. The morning sun was bright, too bright, almost too cheerful for the heavy atmosphere in the backseat. My Mama sat beside me, her frail frame leaning against the door, her hands folded in her lap. Her breathing was a little heavier than usual, though she was trying to hide it. I could see the way she was staring out the window, her gaze distant, as if she were trying to separate herself from the reality of what was coming. I glanced at her, wondering what she was thinking. I knew how much the surgery weighed on her, how she feared the unknown, how much she was bracing herself for the worst. She’d been fighting this battle with stomach cancer for so long now, but after the chemotherapy failed, this surgery had become her last hope. The thought of her undergoing a procedure so invasive, so risky, made my chest tighten. I tried to hold it together for her, tried not to let her
(Lydia)The hospital smelled like antiseptic and too-clean air, the kind that made everything feel sterile and distant. The bright fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, casting an almost clinical glow on the room as I walked alongside my Mama. I held her hand tightly, feeling the faint tremor in her fingers as we made our way down the long, sterile corridor. She wasn’t talking much, but I could tell she was bracing herself, trying to keep it together. I wasn’t sure if I was doing the same. I was terrified. I’d been terrified ever since we’d gotten the diagnosis. But today, as we arrived here, it felt different. The weight of it all was pressing down on me. The reality of what we were facing settled over me like a heavy blanket, suffocating and unrelenting. My Mama was about to undergo surgery, a surgery that would either save her or change everything. And as much as I wanted to believe that she was strong enough to make it through, I couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing was
(Thomas)The last time I saw Jack, he was deflecting my questions about what had happened to leave him injured and refusing any professional help. Typical Jack, always shielding others from his chaos, carrying the weight of his decisions like a stubborn mule. I knocked firmly on his apartment door, which was closed this time, knowing he’d hear the sound even through the thick, industrial-style door. After a moment, the door creaked open. Jack stood there, shirtless, a fresh bandage wrapped around his side. He looked tired but not beaten. That was my brother, gritty, relentless, and unyielding even when life knocked him down.“Thomas,” he greeted with a nod, stepping aside to let me in, “Didn’t expect you to drop by.”“Clearly,” I replied, gesturing to his appearance, “You could’ve at least put on a shirt for the occasion.”He smirked faintly, closing the door behind me. Jack’s apartment was neat but lived-in, a mix of modern decor and personal touches that reflected Jack’s no-nonsen
(Lydia)The morning passed quietly, but my mind was anything but still. Talking to Mama in the garden earlier had eased some of the heaviness pressing down on my chest, but it hadn’t erased it entirely. It felt like smoothing a wrinkle in fabric only to have another one pop up. There were so many reasons for my hesitance, and the biggest one gnawed at me: I hadn’t told Thomas. I could still see his face from last night, relaxed and content, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at me over dinner. It had been a perfect evening, something we hadn’t shared in a long time. I hadn’t wanted to taint it with this...complication. But now, the silence I’d kept about Clara weighed on me like a stone. I stirred my coffee absently at the kitchen counter, staring out at the bright day outside. Mabel and Miles were at preschool, their laughter and chatter missing from the house, leaving it quieter than usual. Thomas had kissed me on the forehead before leaving for work, his expression one of
(Thomas)The faint hum of my office phone was drowned out by the stack of emails I had been working through since the moment I arrived at work. The buzz of productivity was always welcome, a way to focus my mind, especially after the whirlwind of emotions from last night. The date with Lydia had been everything I hoped it would be, a moment of calm amid the chaos. I found myself smiling as I clicked through a report, her laughter from last night still echoing in my mind. It had been a while since I’d seen her truly happy, her guard down, and it reminded me of why I fought so hard to protect what we had built together. My cell phone vibrated on the desk, breaking my thoughts. I glanced at the screen: Aiden. That name always brought a mix of feelings. Reassurance, because he was a solid ally, and apprehension, because his calls often came with heavy news. I picked up, leaning back in my chair, "Aiden, what’s the update?" His voice was steady but carried an edge, like a surgeon
(Adeline)The front garden was always my favorite place to sit, especially in the morning. The air carried a crisp freshness, and the soft rustle of leaves felt like nature’s whisper of reassurance. Today, I felt lighter, less weighed down by the fog of fatigue that had wrapped around me since the surgery. A week had passed, and though I knew there was still a long road ahead, scans, radiotherapy, and who knew what else, I was grateful for small mercies like this. Lydia sat beside me, her posture relaxed but her eyes distant. She should have been glowing after her date with Thomas last night; I’d seen her excitement all day leading up to it. Yet, there was something off about her today, a subtle undercurrent of worry she couldn’t quite hide. I reached over and patted her hand, drawing her out of her thoughts, “You seem troubled, my dear. What’s on your mind?” She blinked, then gave me a soft smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Nothing to worry about, Mama. Just…think
(Margaret)The mansion was quiet, its grand halls and rooms bathed in moonlight, but I was still awake, as I often was these days. Sleep came sparingly. I’d taken to wandering the mansion late at night, a habit born of restlessness and regret. Tonight, I found myself seated in the parlor, nursing a lukewarm cup of tea, when I heard the faint creak of the front door. Ruby. Her steps were light but purposeful, and as she crossed into the hallway, I caught a glimpse of her face. She looked lost in thought, her brow furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line. There was something about her expression that tugged at me, a pang I couldn’t quite place but that settled uncomfortably in my chest. “Ruby,” I called gently, my voice cutting through the stillness. She froze for a moment, her back to me, before turning slightly, her posture tense. Her eyes met mine briefly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them, before she resumed her stride, heading toward the staircase.
(Jack)The room was bathed in the muted glow of the television, the credits of the movie rolling silently on the screen. Ruby lay beside me, her head resting lightly against my shoulder, her breathing slow and even as she slept. I didn’t dare move. Instead, I let my gaze linger on her, taking in the soft lines of her face, the way her lashes rested against her cheeks, the slight rise and fall of her chest. Her hair framed her face, catching the dim light in a way that made her look almost ethereal. I shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t let myself get caught up in the illusion. But in that moment, it felt impossible not to. For years, this apartment had been a space I’d tried to keep void of emotion, a place where I could compartmentalize my life, separate work from personal chaos. But Ruby had changed that. When she’d been here, this place had felt alive, warm. And now, with her asleep beside me, it felt like a dream I didn’t want to wake up from.My mind wandered back to the few
(Ruby)I stood outside Jack’s apartment door, my hand hesitating over the knocker. I shouldn’t be here. I’d already done more than enough, stitched him up, watching him avoid my questions like he always did. But despite every logical reason to stay away, I was here. Because this wasn’t just anyone, it was Jack. The Jack who had once made me laugh so hard I cried, who had shared countless quiet evenings with me in this very apartment. The Jack who, despite all the hurt and chaos, still managed to make my heart skip a beat when I thought of him. I pressed my lips together, pushing the memories aside. This wasn’t about rekindling anything; it was about making sure he was okay. He had shown up at my door injured and vulnerable, and no matter how much time had passed or how complicated things had gotten, I couldn’t ignore that. Taking a deep breath, I knocked. When Jack opened the door, his surprise was clear, though he quickly masked it with that practiced cool demeanor of his.
(Jack)I sat on the edge of my couch, staring at the bandage on my side, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. The family doctor had left about an hour ago after re-dressing my wound. He was efficient and professional, as always, and I appreciated the care. But damn it, why hadn’t I thought to call him in the first place? The moment I got injured, my instincts hadn’t pointed me toward practicality or logic. No, instead, I’d ended up at Ruby’s apartment, bloodied and in desperate need of stitches. I didn’t even remember the exact route I’d taken to get there, just that I had. Like my brain had been hardwired to seek her out, even when it made no sense. It embarrassed me now. Ruby had been nothing but calm and steady as she stitched me up, but I could tell how unsettled she was underneath that brave exterior. And I’d put her in that position, dragged her into something she had no business being
(Lydia)The drive back to the mansion felt electric, charged with an energy I couldn’t quite put into words. Thomas’s hand rested on my thigh as he navigated the quiet streets, his fingers brushing gently against my skin. Neither of us said much; the connection between us was palpable without needing words. By the time we reached the house and stepped through the door, it was as if the air around us crackled with anticipation. Ruby had left a note on the counter saying the kids were asleep and she’d see us tomorrow. I smiled, grateful for her support, but my focus was entirely on Thomas. As soon as the door to our bedroom clicked shut behind us, it was like a dam broke. His lips were on mine in an instant, hot and urgent, pulling me into him as if the space between us was unbearable. My hands found their way to his shoulders, then his hair, as I pressed closer, feeling the hard lines of his body against mine. “Lydia,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. I didn’t