LOGINNATHANIELI pull the phone away from my ear and stare at the darkened screen. Betty is sick?My grip tightens around the glass in my other hand until it twitches under the pressure. “Where the hell is she sick? Is it serious? Has she gone to the hospital?”“No. Stop it,” I tell myself, squeezing my eyes shut. “She is fine. She has someone taking care of her. Rhys must be there. It’s no longer your concern. She has her people.”I toss the phone back onto the desk and down the rest of the scotch before I sit back down and open my laptop. I actually hover my hand over the keyboard, genuinely debating calling Martha to ask her what the hell I am supposed to do with this suffocating panic. But that would be too pathetic. I have a company to reclaim.I force the laptop shut again, grab my suit jacket, and walk out to my waiting car.Rhys was supposed to be there today. We are supposed to co-host the meeting, but there is no way he will leave her bedside. He is taking care of her. And as muc
NATHANIELMy brain feels like it has been put through a meat grinder.I just finished my fifth virtual therapy session with Martha, and all I want to do is put my fist through the mahogany wall. I thought these sessions were supposed to make you feel better. Instead, I feel like I am being flayed alive by a middle-aged woman in a beige cardigan.After my absolute meltdown in the closet a few nights ago, Harriette suggested I see a professional. Naturally, I thought it was a ridiculous, insulting thing to say. I already knew exactly what my problem was, and I certainly didn't need a stranger with a notepad pointing it out.But after spending the entire night suffocating in my own misery on the closet floor, I realized my way had cost me my entire world, and also, I had nothing left to lose.The next morning, an unmarked business card magically appeared on my nightstand. Harriette’s doing, and I held the thick card in my hand for a long time, just staring at the therapist's phone number
BETTY"Don’t be mad, Betty. You were finally starting to be happy, and then I saw those pictures. I knew if I told you, it would just stir up his ghost, and I didn’t want to see you upset," he went ahead to explain, his tone thick with a quiet pleading.I looked at him, and honestly, in that moment, I wasn't mad. Too much had already happened. Compared to the rest of the chaos, it felt like something too small to dwell on."It’s okay," I said softly. And I meant it.I took a slow sip of my water. Rhys took a sip of his black coffee, and a heavy, suffocating silence settled over the table again. It felt like neither of us knew how to navigate the minefield between us, until I finally forced myself to speak."I am sorry, too. For not explaining myself to you when I left the estate," I murmured. "You deserved to know. It’s just... at that moment, I couldn’t put what I was feeling into words. I was so confused, so overwhelmed, my brain just shut down."Rhys let out a long sigh, his grip t
BETTYI am buried under a mountain of blankets on my couch, wearing a massive oversized hoodie, baggy sweatpants, and thick socks, with a messy bun that hasn't seen a comb in at least three days.Wadded-up tissues litter the floor and my lap like a tragic, snot-covered snowfall, and to complete the absolute horror of my current aesthetic, I have two rolled-up pieces of tissue wedged directly into my nostrils to stop the endless dripping.A violent tickle builds in the back of my chest, and I hack so hard my entire body jolts, sounding like a dying seal.Hk-hk-hk-wheeze.I peel my watery, swollen eyes open just in time to see Lucy freeze by the front door. She is dressed to the nines—a razor-sharp blazer, perfect makeup, looking every inch the high-powered executive —caught completely off guard, one stiletto hovering in midair as she tries to tiptoe past the biohazard zone that is my living room.Hk-hk. I cough again, and I watch her physically jolt, raising her hands to shield herself
NATHANIELThe rest of the evening passes in a suffocating, muted blur.Rhys left. I watched his car disappear down the drive, and in the process I took all the dark, violent panic rising in my chest and shoved it down into a steel box.I try to make it through dinner. I sit at the head of the table, cutting my steak, keeping my answers short to every question asked. My mother doesn't notice a thing; she is entirely focused on nursing her Chardonnay. Harriette, on the other hand, every time I look up, her sharp, assessing eyes are locked onto me from across the table, reading the cracks in my posture. But I avoid her gaze and focus entirely on Grace.I play the good father. I help with her dinner, and I hang out with her in the living room for a while before I carry her up the stairs to her room. I read her a story until her eyes flutter shut, tuck the blankets under her chin, and kiss her forehead—even though the entire time, my brain is actively trying to kill me.I go straight back
RHYSI walk slowly up the remaining stone steps, one hand tucked casually into the pocket of my leather jacket, my black boots heavy on the stone.I stop at the top, right in front of him, and for a long, tense moment, neither of us says a word. We just stare at each other, jaws clenched and all, until finally, Nathaniel gives a single, tight nod."Rhys. I can see you are recovering well."I narrow my eyes, and I look away, staring out over the sprawling, manicured lawns of the estate, before dragging my gaze back to his. "Anything I can do for you, Nathaniel?" I ask, cutting straight through the pleasantries.Nathaniel scoffs. A dark, humorless smirk touches his lips before he steps aside, gesturing to the open doors. "Actually, yes. Let's talk in the study, shall we?"I linger on the threshold as a heavy sigh escapes my chest, because I know exactly where this is going. It’s either about the shareholders, or worse—it’s about Betty. But because I don't have the energy to argue on the
BETTYI’m in front of the mirror because I couldn’t sleep, already dressed in a cute cropped hoodie, high-waisted jeans, and sneakers that make me feel light on my feet even when my heart isn’t.My hair is pulled back, my face bare, and for a long moment, I just stare at my reflection like I’m wait
NATHANIELI storm into my chambers and slam the door so hard the sound echoes through the room like a gunshot.I stand there, chest heaving, the air thick in my throat like I’ve swallowed smoke.My fingers tighten around the brown envelope until the paper creases, before I rip it open with a vicious
BETTYRhys hesitates, then finally sits down like a kid on the verge of a tantrum, jaw tight, gaze fixed on the floor.I move closer, and for the first time since everything erupted upstairs, I finally have a full view of him.The vest he’s wearing clings to him like a second skin, his muscles taut
BETTYRhys’s mouth moves against mine with an urgency that steals the air from my lungs.His hands are firm on my waist, strong and certain, and before I even understand what’s happening, he lifts me as though I weigh nothing, and sets me on the cool marble counter.The shock of it sends a tremor t







