Page 18 of Bound By Crimson

Chapter Eighteen

The Silent Guest

The weeks after the Winter Gala unfolded like a dream—but dreams, Lyric realized, had a way of blurring at the edges.

From the outside, her life was perfect.

Galas beneath crystal chandeliers.

Broadway premieres where flashbulbs still chased her like starlight.

Private dinners at rooftop restaurants where the skyline glittered just for them.

Her name continued to ripple across society pages and blogs.

“Kai Thorn’s captivating partner.”

“A modern-day fairy tale.”

People approached her now. Smiles too perfect. Voices too sweet.

And always—the questions.

Where had she come from?

Who were her parents?

What was her family’s history?

Lyric deflected gracefully. At first.

But as the months stretched on, the curiosity felt more like a blade than polite conversation.

-- -

Kai worked long hours.

He left early. Came home late.

“It’s temporary,” he promised. “The firm is expanding. This won’t last forever.”

She believed him. Of course she did.

But the penthouse, once a palace, had begun to feel like a gilded cage.

And the glittering crowd they danced among felt more like masked strangers than friends.

Valentine’s Day had been flawless.

Roses in every shade. A box of truffles from Belgium flown in that morning. Dinner reservations at a rooftop restaurant with a violinist who played just for them. Kai had slipped a diamond bracelet onto her wrist between the dessert and the wine.

“You deserve beauty,” he’d whispered, brushing his lips against her cheek.

She smiled. She always did.

He was good at grand gestures.

But when Easter arrived, it passed without a word.

No mention of dinner. No flowers.

Not even a nod to the day.

Back home, her parents would’ve been up early. Her mom dyeing eggs in pastel bowls of vinegar-stung water, her dad sneaking jelly beans before breakfast.

They’d laughed. Cooked together. Watched old movies in their pajamas.

It wasn’t about the eggs or the candy. It was about being together.

About caring enough to pause.

When she mentioned it, Kai shrugged. “We never really did holidays growing up. We had what we wanted, when we wanted it. If there’s something you need—just tell me. I’ll get it.”

That was the thing.

He could give her anything .

Except the things that couldn’t be bought.

During the day, Thomas often drove her to appointments. Shopping. Charity events. Even just aimless drives through the city when the walls felt too close.

“Where to, Miss Dawson?” he would ask, always patient.

“Anywhere,” she sometimes answered.

Anywhere but here.

Loneliness crept in like a silent guest.

Not for lack of people. There were always people.

But none who truly knew her.

None except—

Rowan.

---

Rowan had appeared months ago with the glam team, but Lyric hadn’t been ready then. Now, as late June settled heavily over the city, she finally reached out.

She stared down at her phone, thumb hovering over the screen, eyes resting on Rowan’s last message.

During the two years they hadn’t spoken, Rowan had tried—texts, calls, quiet check-ins that Lyric had rarely answered. Eventually, she’d respected the silence and stopped.

But her final message had lingered.

“Call me when you’re ready. I’ll always answer.”

Today, Lyric was ready.

She tapped out a message:

“Lunch soon? I’d love to catch up.”

The reply came almost instantly.

“Name the time and place. I can’t wait.”

---

The café was upscale but cozy—small marble tables, floor-to-ceiling windows letting in the pale June sunlight.

Lyric arrived first, nerves knotting in her stomach .

She wore soft grey slacks and a pale blue blouse, simple but elegant. No diamonds. No designer logos. She wanted to feel like herself again.

When Rowan arrived, she looked both polished and slightly out of place in the high-society setting.

Blonde hair swept into a low chignon. A simple navy dress.

Her smile was hesitant but hopeful.

They embraced briefly.

For a moment, it was easy to imagine they were just two friends meeting for coffee—no history, no heartbreak.

Once seated, Rowan reached for her water glass but paused.

“I never stopped regretting what happened... with Eric.”

Lyric took a slow breath.

“I know.”

She met Rowan’s eyes, steady.

“I think deep down, I always knew it wasn’t really your fault.”

Rowan blinked, surprised.

“Eric told me you said things behind my back,” Rowan said quietly. “He made me think you didn’t really like me. And when my parents were splitting up, he was the only one who listened. I was just so... lost.”

“I remember,” Lyric said softly. “I just didn’t realize how bad it was for you. When I saw you two together, I thought...”

“I tried to push him away,” Rowan whispered. “That night—you walked in—I was trying to stop it. But when you cut me off, I had no one else. I fell into him because I felt like I’d already lost you.”

Lyric’s throat tightened. She reached across the table, covering Rowan’s hand with her own.

“You were just a kid. We both were. Eric knew what he was doing. He pitted us against each other. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

Rowan’s eyes shimmered with tears.

“I tried to reach out. I just never wanted to give up. I always hoped you’d answer one day. I’ve missed you so much. ”

“You didn’t lose me. Not forever.” Lyric smiled softly. “I forgive you. And... I forgive myself too. I should have asked questions. I should have fought for us.”

The weight that had hovered between them for years seemed to melt into the soft clink of silverware and the quiet hum of conversation around them.

“But enough about the past,” Lyric said gently. “How’s everything going with you? You looked so professional with the glam team when we met again. You’re really making it.”

Rowan smiled, a little embarrassed but proud.

“Still apprenticing, still learning. I’m taking cosmetology courses, working at the salon, and doing freelance work when I can. It’s not easy, but it’s getting better.”

“That’s amazing. I’m really happy for you, Rowan. You deserve every bit of success that’s coming.”

“I’m proud of you too, Lyric,” Rowan said after a moment. “I’ve seen the life you’ve built. You look... happy.”

“Most of the time.”

Rowan tilted her head. “Most?”

“I’ve been feeling a little lost,” Lyric admitted. “Like I don’t have anything that’s mine anymore. Everyone just sees Kai’s partner.”

“That’s not who you’ve ever been.” Rowan replied.

Lyric laughed gently. “No, I suppose not.”

“Do you remember in high school?” Rowan asked. “You always sketched dresses. During math class, in your journals, even on napkins at lunch. You wanted to design.”

Lyric’s smile softened. “I still sketch. A little.”

“Then don’t stop. Don’t lose the parts of you that made you who you are. It’s easy to forget when everything around you changes.”

---

They talked a while longer, the conversation shifting to lighter memories.

Before parting, they agreed to stay in touch—to rebuild the friendship they both thought had been lost forever .

As Lyric left the café, she felt lighter than she had in months.

The warmth of Rowan’s words lingered in her mind— Don’t lose the parts of you that made you who you are.

That night, back at the penthouse, she pulled her sketchbook from the shelf where she’d buried it weeks ago.

She ran her fingers over the cover.

Maybe it’s time .