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She sank onto the couch, her hands shaking slightly.
Today wasn’t supposed to end like this. This was supposed to be the day she and Addie took their romance to a whole new level. This was supposed to be their day.
Now everything had shattered before it could even begin. Her parents’ interference had cost her love.
Her gaze fell to the empty teacups on the table, the steam long gone, leaving only the faint scent behind. She felt drained, asthough every ounce of energy had been wrung out of her.
Giselle walked toward her bedroom, the house silent around her and her phone heavy in her hand. She unlocked the screen, Addie’s number sitting at the top. The urge to call pulsed through her, but she hesitated, her thumb hovering just above the screen.
She wanted to reach out and hear Addie’s voice, to apologize and explain. But the words wouldn’t form even in her head.
The phone slipped from her grip, landing on the floor with a dull thud. She stared down at it, unable to make herself pick it up. Addie was better off without her, wasn’t she? Away from this mess, from the constant push and pull that Giselle’s life had become. What right did she have to pull Addie back in?
She sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the empty room, the anger sparking again. Her parents had always done this—reached into her life, pulled the strings, and made her believe she was somehow incomplete without their guidance. And now, even after she’d told them toleave, their voices lingered, their judgments still crowding her thoughts.
Giselle clenched her fists, then released them, feeling the exhaustion set in. How many relationships had they ruined? How many times had she kept people at a distance, thinking it was for the best?
She wanted Addie, she knew that now, but she had no idea where to begin. Maybe, in the end, she was just like her parents—cold, methodical, unwilling to let anyone close enough to see her. The thought left her empty.
She didn’t move for a long time, the house darkening around her as evening settled in. She had no energy to turn on the lights or do anything that might interrupt the silence. She sat alone, watching the shadows stretch across her walls, the house as still as she was.
Finally, she rose and walked to the kitchen, thinking she should eat something. She opened the fridge, her eyes falling on leftover vegetables, eggs, everything she’d need to cook something half-decent.
She stared at them for a few seconds, considering it, but her shoulders sagged atthe thought of going through each step. She didn’t have it in her. Not tonight.
She closed the fridge, reached for the cereal box in the cabinet, and then poured some into a bowl. She added milk, the motion automatic, and walked over to the dining table. She set the bowl down and sat, her fingers tapping against the cool wood of the tabletop.
The quiet was heavier here, stretching between her and the bowl in front of her, filling the space she’d once thought she could share with Addie.
She took a spoonful of cereal, staring into the bowl as if it held the answer to all her problems. And then, as she chewed, the realization settled in.
She’d done this.
She’d kept Addie at arm’s length, afraid to let her in completely. Afraid that if she did, she might have to change. She’d fallen into the same careful, rigid patterns her parents had drilled into her, believing that control meant safety. And now, that same control was slipping through her fingers, leaving her with nothing but an empty house and afading chance at the happiness she’d found with Addie.
She lowered the spoon, her appetite gone. If she didn’t change—if she didn’t let herself risk it, let herself truly care—she would lose Addie for good. The thought sat heavily with her. The only sound in the room was her own shallow breathing as she looked down at her untouched bowl.
24
ADDIE
Addie’s morning started in a rush. She’d barely finished breakfast with Sophie when her phone buzzed on the counter, the screen flashing an emergency alert from the hospital.
She swallowed her last sip of coffee and dialed Alex’s number, arranging for Sophie’s school drop-off with barely a pause.
At the hospital, the pace only picked up. She scrubbed in quickly, her mind locked into the steady rhythm of work. The emergency was messy, a multi-trauma case from a bad highway collision, and the OR was filled with controlled chaos.
The only pause in her entire day came when she first laid eyes on Giselle. Even with the white coat obscuring her body, Giselle’s figure was undeniable.
Addie stood still in the hallway, staring at Giselle with her lips pressed together.
“Good morning,” she said, betraying the warmth that coursed through her body.
“Addie, I—” Giselle began.
Addie raised her hand, cutting her off. She didn’t want to hear it. Not before a delicate procedure
“Please, Giselle,” Addie said. “We’ve got a job to do.”