LOGINEmily’s POV When I woke up that morning, sunlight was streaming softly through the curtains, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel that familiar tight knot of worry in my chest. It really did feel like a heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The space beside me was empty—Alex must have gotten up a little earlier—but the sheets still held his warmth, and the whole room felt calm and bright. I sat up slowly, stretching my arms above my head, and spotted Alex’s soft gray shirt draped over the foot of the bed. I pulled it on immediately; it was too big for me, falling to mid‑thigh, and it smelled like him—clean, warm, and familiar. Wrapped in that scent, everything felt perfect, like nothing could go wrong today. I wandered out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen, where I could hear soft music playing and the quiet sizzle of something cooking. Alex was standing at the stove, his back to me, flipping strips of bacon and carefully folding an omel
Emily’s POVAfter we had finished walking through every section of the gallery, stopping to admire each display and lingering longest in front of my own paintings, Mr. Pierre suddenly appeared beside us, looking more animated and excited than I had ever seen him.He carried a small sheet of paper in one hand, and there was a wide, knowing smile on his face as he stepped close enough to speak without drawing too much attention.“Em, Alex—wait just a moment, I have some incredible news for you,” he said, his voice full of surprise.“A buyer has just come forward, and he has made a very unusual request: he wants to purchase all of Emily’s work—every single painting on display here today.”My breath caught in my throat, and I stared at him, certain I must have misheard. Beside me, Alex’s arm tightened around my waist, his eyes widening in equal shock.“All of them?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. “You mean every painting, not just one or two?”Pierre nodded vigorously, his s
Emily’s POV Finally, the day I had been waiting for arrived. After weeks of mixing colors, adjusting brushstrokes, and staying up late to finish every detail, it was time to go to the gallery and see my work properly displayed on the walls. It was also the day when the public would come to view them—and if I was lucky, some might even choose to buy one. Even so, I tried not to let my hopes run too high. This was my first real showing, and I knew better than to expect everything to go perfectly from the start. I stood in front of the full‑length mirror in my bedroom, smoothing the fabric of my dress and adjusting the necklace around my neck. My hands felt a little shaky, and my heart was beating faster than usual. No one from my family knew about this yet—not my parents, and certainly not Julian. Only Kara and Mrs. Anderson, the kind woman who had rented me my first studio space, were aware of what I was doing. Both had sent messages early that morning, full of encouragement and
Emily’s POV The restaurant Karen chose was warm and quiet, with soft lighting and the gentle hum of conversation around us. We sat across from each other at a small table near the window, and as soon as I settled into my seat, she leaned forward slightly, looking both relieved and uneasy at the same time. “Thanks so much for coming, Em,” she said, twisting the stem of her glass between her fingers. “I hope Alex doesn’t mind that we’re meeting like this, does he?” I smiled reassuringly, unfolding my napkin and placing it across my lap. “It’s completely fine, Karen. Actually, he came over earlier planning to have dinner with me, but when I told him I’d already agreed to meet you, he understood right away. He said it was no problem at all.” Karen’s face fell a little, and she let out a soft sigh. “Oh no, now I feel even worse. I didn’t mean to disrupt your plans or take time away from you two. I’m really sorry, Em.” I shook my head quickly, reaching across the table to touch her h
Emily’s POV Mr. Pierre moved slowly from one canvas to the next, his gaze sharp and attentive, occasionally stepping closer to study a brushstroke or a blend of colors. He had asked to see the finished works I’d set aside for his gallery, and as he turned to face me, there was genuine admiration in his expression. Truth be told, I still found myself looking at them and thinking of small changes I might make—little adjustments here and there that only I seemed to notice. But Pierre nodded firmly, as if there was no room for doubt. “These are wonderful, Em,” he said, resting one hand thoughtfully beneath his chin. “Truly impressive. I can already picture how they will look on the walls of my new space.” I smiled, though I still felt that familiar twinge of self‑doubt. “Thank you, Mr. Pierre. Honestly, I’m not entirely satisfied with every detail yet.” He laughed softly, walking toward the large window that lit up the studio. “You know, this will be my third gallery opening—and
Emily’s POVThe doctor’s words hung in the air as we left the clinic: Kael’s injury wasn’t serious enough to need treatment or further examination, but he would definitely have to stay off the ice and rest for a while—long enough to make sure his leg healed completely without risk of strain or re‑injury. Alex and the others helped him to his car, making sure he was comfortable before heading back to finish up at the arena, while Alex offered to drive me straight home.Inside the car, the afternoon light filtered softly through the windows, but my mind was still turning over everything Karen had told me earlier. I wanted to ask Alex about it—and about something else that had lingered in my thoughts ever since she spoke about their past. I turned slightly toward him as he merged smoothly into traffic.“By the way… I just found out you and Karen have actually known each other since elementary school,” I said, watching his profile. “Back then… why did you reject her?”Alex let out a lo
Alex’s POV I sat on the edge of my bed in our dorm, staring at the floor while he paced back and forth. My mind was still replaying the hospital — Emily’s pale face, the way she had looked at me when she woke up, the fear in her eyes when Julian walked in. I had almost slipped. Almost said to
Emily’s POVMy head felt heavy, like it was filled with fog. The first thing I noticed was the smell — sharp, clean, and cold, like antiseptic mixed with something sterile. My eyes fluttered open slowly, and the bright white ceiling above me made me wince. I tried to sit up, but a dull ache in my
Emily’s POV The phone kept vibrating on my nightstand, dragging me out of a restless sleep. My eyes opened slowly, heavy with exhaustion, and I reached for it with a groan. The screen lit up with Alex’s name. He had called three times already and left several messages. I opened the last one, m
Emily’s POV The smell of grilled meat and charcoal should have been comforting, but tonight it only made my stomach twist. Julian and I sat at a small table in the corner of the BBQ restaurant, the sizzle of meat on the grill filling the air around us. I stared at the pieces of beef and vegetabl







