Along the way out, Nicole stayed close to Connor. Other obligations tugged at her attention, so she didn't plan to leave with him. After settling him into the car, she let out a light, amused laugh and said, "Thanks for showing up today, Connor. I honestly didn't expect it—and seeing Erika and the others so completely crushed was… new for me."
From his seat, Connor tilted his head and studied her expression. That smile of hers carried an easy, disarming warmth. With a lazy curve to his lips, he drawled, "Next time, don't act so cocky just because you think someone's got your back."
Heat crept up Nicole's neck, and she lowered her gaze, a trace of embarrassment tightening her fingers.
...
Outside the Perry residence, Nicole crossed paths with Jerald, who had arrived to pick up Erika, the car slowing as it pulled alongside her.
The window glided down, exposing a face unchanged by time—the very likeness of the man Nicole had once loved more than anyone. Despite the numbness she'd wrapped around herself, a faint ripple still moved through her chest.
Still burning from her recent humiliation and nursing her grudge, Erika pressed herself into Jerald's embrace, angling for a kiss with deliberate sweetness in Nicole's presence.
It had been a while since Jerald last saw Nicole. Their previous encounter at the hotel had ended badly, after which she vanished from his world without a word. Plagued by a sensitive stomach, he remembered how Nicole used to quietly cook light, careful meals just for him. Even while juggling work and tending to her mother, she had always carved out time to see him, currying favor with everyone around him for the chance of a single glance at him.
More than once, his friends had commented that she outshone Erika by far.
But proud of his principles, Jerald believed himself unwavering in his love for Erika and harbored a particular contempt for Nicole, resenting her for knowingly clinging to her cousin's boyfriend. Even so, a strange unease had lingered during Nicole's absence, leaving him unsettled in ways he couldn't explain.
He didn't pull away when Erika kissed him, yet his eyes betrayed him, drifting toward Nicole involuntarily. Standing off to the side, quiet and forlorn, Nicole stirred something tight and uncomfortable in his chest. The ache caught him off guard, and he couldn't pinpoint where it had come from.
Heavy clouds pressed low overhead, the air thick with the promise of rain. Putting on a show of concern, Erika insisted, "Jerald, Nicole's heading out too. It looks like it might rain—why don't we give her a ride?"
Under normal circumstances, Jerald would have shut the idea down immediately. But Erika had misjudged his soft spot; with the weather turning, he relented and allowed Nicole into the car.
The moment Nicole started climbing into the backseat, irritation flickered across Erika's face. Nicole struggled to settle in, and the car rocked more than once before finally going still.
With a sharp, mocking laugh, Erika glanced at Jerald and remarked, "You really should've chosen a more spacious one. Look how hard Nicole's trying just to sit down."
Crowding herself into the seat, Nicole turned her head toward the passing streetlights, her expression unreadable. Once upon a time, she had loved Jerald deeply, and every reminder of her gained weight used to stab her with quiet humiliation. Now, she felt perhaps this situation was for the best—only by being bruised beyond repair could she finally loosen her grip on the past.
When the vehicle rolled to a stop outside the shopping mall, Nicole pushed the door open and stepped out without offering a single word.
Although she felt Jerald's eyes linger on her back, nothing stirred in her chest. Since his heart had already settled elsewhere, it no longer mattered whether his memories of their shared past ever returned. He was preparing to marry her cousin, while she was already bound to someone else. Whatever they once shared had ended completely.
...
Nicole walked into the shopping mall and purchased a smartphone designed specifically for users with visual impairments. Some of the accessibility functions felt clunky and overly sensitive, but Connor was only twenty-six—sharp-minded and adaptable—so picking it up shouldn't take him long.
Even so, she saved her number as an emergency contact, unwilling to leave anything to chance.
After stopping by the market for fresh ingredients, she returned home and went straight to look for Connor, only to freeze when the door opened on the cold barrel of a gun aimed at her.
Stunned into silence, she watched as Connor lounged in his wheelchair, casually lowering the gun and spinning it around his long fingers with lazy, unnerving ease.
Recognition hit her instantly—it was her own self-defense device! Unease crept up her spine as she queried, "How did you get that?"
Any instinct to defend herself died on the spot, and after biting her lower lip, she chose the truth. "It's not a real gun. It just shoots fire. I carry it to protect myself."
With deliberate provocation, Connor tilted his head and pressed on. "You remembered to bring it with you when you came here, yet forgot to take it when you left. So tell me, Nicole, who exactly were you planning to protect yourself from?"
Tension tightened her throat as she blurted out, "I stay on guard around everyone. It isn't something I do just to you."
Only then did Connor take in her damp hair and the cling of wet fabric against her skin. Any trace of playfulness faded from his face as he lowered his hand and set the toy gun aside. "You don't need to do this again. No man in their right mind would start trouble with someone who's clearly stronger than they are."
