The cabin was warm and inviting, the faint scent of pine and wood smoke filling the air as Hayden opened the door. “Come on in, Sylvia,” he said, his tone friendly and welcoming. Sylvia stepped inside, her coat draped over one arm, her sharp eyes taking in every detail.
Elena stood near the kitchen, her hands tightening around a dish towel as she watched Sylvia cross the threshold. The sight of her there—so casual, so confident—made her stomach churn. It had been only weeks since the attack, since Elena had lost her pup. The grief was still raw, a hollow ache she carried with her every moment.
Hayden didn’t know. He hadn’t noticed the way Elena had withdrawn, the way her smiles didn’t reach her eyes anymore. He was oblivious, as usual, focused instead on playing the perfect host.
“Make yourself at home,” Hayden said, taking Sylvia’s coat and hanging it by the door.
Elena’s jaw tightened as Sylvia’s gaze swept over her, lingering just long enough to feel like a challenge. Sylvia’s smirk was subtle, a flicker of satisfaction meant only for Elena to see.
“Thank you,” Sylvia said sweetly, her voice dripping with charm. She moved further into the cabin, brushing past Elena as though she wasn’t even there.
Elena’s fists clenched, her knuckles white against the towel. “Hayden,” she said tightly, forcing her voice to stay even. “Did you think to ask me about this?”
Hayden turned to her, frowning slightly. “Ask you about what?”
“About inviting her here,” Elena said, nodding toward Sylvia, who was now examining the bookshelf in the corner. “This is our space.”
Hayden shrugged, his expression indifferent. “She needed a place to stay for the night. Don’t be mean, Elena. She’s been through a lot.”
The words struck her like a blow. Elena stared at him, incredulous. She’s been through a lot? Did he really have no idea what this meant for her?
Sylvia turned, her smirk gone, replaced with an innocent expression. “I don’t want to intrude,” she said softly, her tone filled with false humility. “If it’s a problem, I can find somewhere else.”
Elena wanted to scream. She wanted to tell Sylvia to leave, to tear down that mask of sweetness and expose the smug, calculating woman beneath. But Hayden was already shaking his head.
“Nonsense,” he said firmly. “You’re staying. Elena will be fine.”
Elena felt her chest tighten, her breath coming short and fast. She didn’t want to fight—not here, not now. But the sight of Sylvia settling onto the couch as though she belonged there made her blood boil.
“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Elena muttered, turning on her heel before she said something she couldn’t take back.
She busied herself with cleaning, scrubbing the same counter she had already wiped down twice. Her hands trembled as she worked, her mind racing. How could Hayden be so blind? How could he not see what this was doing to her?
From the living room, she heard his voice and Sylvia’s laugh, light and melodic. It grated on her nerves, each sound like a needle piercing her skin.
She closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the counter. This isn’t about her, she told herself, trying to steady her breathing. This is about him. He should know better. He should care enough to notice.
But he didn’t.
A part of her wanted to march back into the living room, to confront him, to force him to see her pain. But another part of her—the part that was exhausted, that was broken—couldn’t bear the thought of being dismissed again.
“Elena?” Hayden’s voice called from the living room.
She took a deep breath, forcing a neutral expression onto her face before stepping back into the room. Sylvia glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“Everything okay?” Hayden asked, his brow furrowed slightly as he looked at her.
Elena nodded, her voice steady. “Fine.”
But it wasn’t fine. It hadn’t been fine for a long time, and she was starting to wonder if Hayden would ever notice.
Sylvia’s smile widened, as though she could read Elena’s thoughts, as though she knew exactly how to twist the knife.
Elena clenched her jaw, her nails digging into her palms. She wouldn’t give Sylvia the satisfaction of a reaction. Not tonight.
But as she watched the two of them, the anger and grief swirled inside her, a storm she couldn’t contain much longer.
