The apartment was still dark when I arrived. The lights were off and there was no warmth. Just stale air and the faint scent of something rotting in the sink. I didn’t bother flipping the switch to check if the power was back. I dropped my bag by the door and kicked it shut behind me. Each step echoed too loudly in the silence.
I didn’t even change. The hospital gown was thin beneath my hoodie, but I didn’t care. I collapsed onto the couch face-first, arms dangling over the side like I was boneless. The fabric scratched against my bandages, but exhaustion won.
Sleep came, but it didn’t soothe me. Dreams clawed through me like they knew something I didn’t.
When I woke, it was to a sound I hadn’t expected.
Clattering in the kitchen.
I sat up, blinking through groggy haze, muscles stiff and aching. Barefoot, I moved down the hall, my breath shallow. For a second I thought maybe I’d left something running—or worse, someone had broken in.
But when I turned the corner, they were there.
Ethan was at the stove, flipping steak like this was any other Tuesday night. Jonathan was beside him, slicing vegetables with surgical precision. The table was set: napkins folded, glasses rimmed with condensation. Like they were expecting someone.
They looked up when they saw me. No panic or guilt in their faces. Just… casual surprise.
Ethan spoke first. “We thought you were at your aunt’s.”
Jonathan glanced down at the knife in his hand. “We didn’t know you were in the hospital.”
Not sorry. Not ‘we were worried’. Just we didn’t know.
I didn’t answer. I sat at the table and didn’t touch the food.
Ethan frowned, clicking off the burner. “You need to eat. You just got out of the hospital.”
I looked straight at him, voice flat. “You didn’t check on me. Not once.”
Silence followed. Deep, tight silence. Like a noose pulling taut.
Then the doorbell rang.
Ethan and Jonathan both turned. Ethan moved first.
And there she was.
Sophia, in a white blouse with bandaged wrists peeking from beneath the sleeves. She looked pale and fragile.
The second they saw her, everything shifted.
Ethan rushed to her, lifting her gently like she might break. He carried her to the couch and laid her down like she was sacred.
“You shouldn’t be out,” he murmured, brushing hair from her face. “What if something happened?”
“I panicked,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I couldn’t sleep. What if I didn’t wake up? I didn’t want to be alone tonight.”
And that was it. That was all it took.
“You’re not a burden,” Ethan soothed. “You should’ve called sooner.”
Jonathan stood behind them, nodding in agreement.
“We’ll check on Evanny,” he added, “and then we’ll stay with you.”
I sat perfectly still. Watching them.
Then I picked up my fork.
The steak was dry, chewy, bleeding pink in the center. My least favorite type of steak. They didn’t even remember.
I chewed anyway.
Across the room, they were adjusting her pillows, pouring water for her like she was royalty. Sophia caught my gaze. Her eyes didn’t apologize. They said exactly what she meant:
“You lost.”
And then my phone buzzed.
It was a message from Mom: she had sent rows of wedding dresses. Made with lace, satin and beads that shimmered even in bad lighting and very elaborate veils. I scrolled through all of them absentmindedly , untilI paused on the third. It was off the shoulder, and cinched at the waist with pearls. The rest of the dressed flowed down in a very beautiful Disney princess kind of way. It was very simple and regal.
I called her before I could think twice.
“Did you get the dresses?” my mom asked in a bright voice. “I think the third one’s the winner. But if your fiancé prefers—”
“I love the third one, mom,” I cut in. My voice was steady, even a little cheerful. “It’s perfect. I’m really… excited.”
She hesitated— maybe she heard something different in me. “I’m glad, sweetheart. I knew it’d grow on you.”
“It’ll be beautiful,” I said. “I can’t wait for the wedding.”
I felt the energy change across the room. A flicker. A shift.someone even cleared their throat, but I didn’t look up.
“How much longer will you be there?” she asked.
“Just one more week. I’ll quickly finish what I need to.”
“Good. Everything’s almost ready here too.”
I hung up and set the phone on the table.
And then I looked up.
Ethan was staring at me. Jonathan, too. Sophia was still, fork paused halfway to her lips. Her expression remained soft, but something behind her eyes had turned razor-sharp.
Ethan moved first.
He crossed the room to me like a storm. “Wedding?” he asked, low and sharp.
Jonathan was right behind him. “What wedding?”
