Page 37 of Bound By Crimson

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Quietly Crushed

Lyric closed the door behind her and collapsed against it. The weight of everything Kai had said—and refused to hear—crushed her. Her body shook with quiet sobs, the kind that come from heartbreak that has no outlet.

She stood in the center of the room, hollow.

Then she looked up.

The mirror above her dresser caught her in full—unforgiving. Her face was rounder. Softer. Her collarbones no longer sharp. Her stomach, though not enormous yet, pushed gently against the silk of her nightgown.

She turned sideways. Examined it. Her hands slid across the curve of her belly, and all she could hear was Mrs. Thornwick’s voice:

“You’ve filled out quite a bit. He likes his women slim.”

The tears returned without warning.

She hadn’t noticed it happening. She was just trying to grow a life. Just trying to survive in a house that seemed to want to eat her whole.

Her fingers curled into the edge of the vanity. Her knuckles whitened.

I can’t lose him .

Maybe everything would be fine once the baby came .

Maybe she was the problem.

Maybe she was already losing everything and didn’t even know it.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

She opened the wardrobe and reached for a black slip she hadn’t worn in months. It barely fit anymore. She pulled it on anyway.

Then she draped one of Kai’s shirts over her shoulders—buttoned only halfway—to cover her stomach. She glanced at herself once more, and this time, she avoided her own eyes.

Her legs carried her out of the room almost on instinct. The hallway was dim and silent. She moved quickly, barefoot over the cold wood, past portraits with watching eyes and flickering sconces, until she reached Kai’s room. Her hand hesitated on the doorknob, then she let herself in.

It smelled like him.

That alone nearly broke her again.

She sat on the edge of his bed, folding her legs beneath her, pulling a throw pillow gently across her lap to hide what the mirror had just made her hate.

She waited.

Every minute felt longer than the last.

She kept fixing her hair. Adjusting the pillow. Wiping her face. She didn’t want him to see she’d been crying. She didn’t want to look broken.

She wanted to be the girl he used to look at like she was magic—like he couldn’t believe she was real.

The doorknob turned.

Her breath caught.

Kai stepped in, stopping short when he saw her.

His face shifted—something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Surprise. Maybe guilt. But then he smiled.

“Hey,” he said softly, closing the door behind him.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“I missed you too.”

His voice was low. Warm. Convincing.

She collapsed into his arms, her body betraying her heart, burying her face against his chest .

“I know,” he murmured, kissing her hair. “I’m sorry.”

She looked up at him, tears forming again. “I just want us back.”

“You have me,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers.

For a moment, it felt like it might be true.

They sat on the bed together, the pillow still between them.

Kai brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Her stomach dropped.

“The firm’s struggling without me. I didn’t expect that, but… I guess I’m more needed than I thought. I have to go back. Not forever. Just for a week or so at a time.” He hesitated then added, “I built that company, Lyric. It’s mine. I’m not ready to just throw it all away.”

“When?” she asked, her voice small.

“In a few days.”

Her throat tightened. “A week?”

“Just one. Maybe two, max.”

Lyric looked away, her vision blurring. “You just got back.”

“I know. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to.”

This wasn’t what he promised .

She nodded slowly, but something sharp moved beneath her skin.

I gave up everything.

Her boutique. Her freedom. Her identity. She came here for him—let go of the life she was building so she could fit into his.

But she didn’t say that.

Instead, she tucked the thought deep into the same place where all her doubts were going to live now. Because she didn’t want to seem ungrateful. Because she wanted him to be happy. Because maybe—just maybe—if she kept being what he needed, he’d never want to leave again.

She nodded, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. She wanted to argue. She wanted to scream. But after their last fight, she couldn’t bear to push him further away.

“You’ll come back, though?” she asked, quieter this time.

“Of course,” he said, kissing her again. “You and the baby… you’re everything. ”

She tried to believe it—even as the pillow stayed between them, even as something inside her whispered:

He’s already leaving again.