Page 25 of Bound By Crimson

Chapter Twenty-Five

The Scent of Change

The morning light slid across the marble floors, catching the delicate sparkle of the tennis bracelet Kai gave her, resting on the nightstand.

Lyric sat on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair slowly. Kai moved behind her, slipping on his watch, his shirt already pressed and buttoned.

“You know,” she said softly, watching him through the mirror, “maybe I could come by your office today.”

He paused.

Just for a second.

Then smiled. “You’ve got a boutique to run, baby. That’s your empire now. You’re killing it.”

Something about the way he said it pulled at her. A few days ago he’d begged her not to leave him, told her the boutique could wait. Now it was her empire?

“I know, I just…” She trailed off. “I’ve never seen what you do. I thought it might be nice.”

He leaned down and kissed her neck. “Trust me, it’s not exciting. Meetings, contracts, people haggling over square footage and interest rates. Finance is even less exciting—just a blur of spreadsheets, market trends, and people pretending to know the future. ”

She forced a smile. “Okay.”

“You’ve got your own world to lead now,” he added, adjusting his cuffs. “Focus on that. I’m proud of you.”

Her stomach fluttered—but not in a good way.

“I’ll be home early,” he added. “Maybe we’ll order in. Watch a movie.”

“Sounds good.”

He kissed her again—this time, her forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He left a minute later.

And she barely made it to the bathroom before vomiting.

---

She stood over the sink, hands braced on the porcelain, breathing slowly.

It was just nerves.

That’s all it was.

She hadn’t eaten dinner last night. Or maybe she was coming down with something.

She splashed cold water on her face and told herself to shake it off.

Kai was obsessed with her.

And she was obsessed with him.

Everything was fine.

---

Callie’s last day had arrived faster than Lyric expected.

They stood together behind the counter, folding the last few summer displays into boxes. The boutique was quiet for once—just the steady hum of the heater and the rustle of tissue paper.

“You’ve built something incredible,” Callie said softly. “A tiny empire.”

Lyric smiled, but her chest ached. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Callie waved a hand. “I just gave you a little push. You did the rest. ”

They folded in silence for a moment before Callie’s tone shifted—lower, more serious.

“Listen… I know Kai’s been pressuring you. In his own way.”

Lyric opened her mouth to deny it, but Callie shook her head gently.

“I’m proud of you. So proud. But don’t let him—or anyone—push you into giving up something you love. Not even for love.”

Lyric’s throat tightened. “I won’t.”

“You’d better not.” Callie smiled, though her eyes were too bright. “And if you ever need me—Milan or no Milan—you call. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Callie pulled her into a fierce hug.

“You’ve got this, Lyric.”

As Callie gathered her coat, she paused at the door. “And Kat seems… enthusiastic. Just don’t let her drive you crazy.”

“I’ll try.”

Callie grinned and disappeared into the morning crowd.

Lyric stood for a moment, watching the door.

For the first time since the grand opening, she felt completely alone.

---

The morning rush came and went. Lyric smiled, rang customers through, complimented outfits, gave styling advice. But her stomach rolled with every breath. The back of her neck prickled with heat, and she couldn’t shake the feeling she was moving underwater.

Kat arrived around eleven, talking before the door even fully closed.

“This city is wild! A man in a tutu proposed to me at the crosswalk. I told him I would think about it. Honestly, best offer I had all week!”

Lyric laughed weakly.

Kat eyed her. “You okay? You look kinda pale.”

“Didn’t sleep well,” Lyric murmured. “I’m fine. ”

They worked in tandem for the next hour—Kat adjusting displays, chattering nonstop. Lyric nodded when necessary, but her thoughts floated elsewhere.

---

Around noon, Kat plopped her bag on the back counter and pulled out a sandwich.

“Oh thank God,” she said, unwrapping it. “I was about to gnaw on my purse!”

Lyric turned slightly—and froze.

The smell hit her hard.

Tuna.

Warm, pungent, aggressively real.

Her throat closed.

Kat looked up. “Whoa. That bad?”

Lyric clamped a hand over her mouth and bolted for the bathroom.

Again .

---

When she came back out, Kat was halfway through her sandwich and watching her like a hawk.

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

Lyric wiped her mouth with a tissue, her voice hoarse. “It’s just a stomach thing.”

Kat narrowed her eyes.

“Okay, don’t hate me for asking this, but… is there any chance you might be pregnant?”

Lyric blinked. “What?”

“I’m just saying!” Kat shrugged. “I’ve heard smell sensitivity is a thing. Like, one of my coworkers got nauseous every time someone opened a bag of barbecue chips. Couldn’t even walk past the vending machine without gagging.”

Lyric’s stomach turned again.

“No,” she said too quickly. “I’m not pregnant.”

“Okay! Just checking. You look kinda freaked though. ”

“I just haven’t been sleeping. Or eating right. I’ve been stressed.”

Kat held up her hands. “Say no more.”

---

That afternoon, she asked Kat if she’d be willing to start opening the shop each morning.

“Of course!” Kat beamed. “I’m basically allergic to sleeping in anyway.”

Lyric smiled faintly.

She needed time—to think, to breathe, to convince herself this wasn’t what she feared.