Morning After Regrets
Doris woke to the scent of rain and whiskey still clinging to her skin.
Beside her, Dante lay on his back, one arm draped over his eyes, breathing slow and steady.
She stared at the ceiling for a long moment, heart pounding.
What had she done?
Again.
And again.
She slipped out of bed carefully, pulling on a robe before walking into the kitchen.
The city outside was gray and damp, just like the mood settling over her.
She poured herself coffee, hands shaking slightly.
Behind her, the floor creaked.
"I didn't mean to stay the night," he said quietly.
She turned. "You didn't exactly leave."
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I don't do this."
"What? Sleep with someone twice?"
"No." He met her gaze. "Stay."
There was something raw in his voice.
Something broken.
She hated how much it made her want to comfort him.
"You can't keep doing this," she whispered. "Coming and going like I'm some kind of safe place you visit when it suits you."
His jaw tightened. "It's not that simple."
"Then explain it to me."
He looked away. "Not yet."
She shook her head. "Then maybe you should go."
He hesitated.
Then nodded.
Without another word, he gathered his clothes and disappeared into the morning mist.
Leaving her alone.
Again.
---
Studio Tension
By the time Doris arrived at Marlowe & Co., the entire team was already buzzing with excitement.
Today was the first official design review for the Echoes collection.
Clara Whitmore stood at the front of the room, arms crossed, clipboard in hand.
"We're ready to begin," she announced.
Doris took her seat beside Dante, who looked as if he hadn't slept at all.
They avoided eye contact.
For now.
Clara gestured to the board behind them.
"Present your concepts."
Doris flipped open her sketchpad.
One by one, she revealed her designs—dark silks, asymmetrical cuts, reds so deep they looked like spilled secrets.
Gasps filled the room.
Clara raised an eyebrow. "This is bold."
Dante finally spoke. "It's exactly what we need."
Doris shot him a look.
He wasn't supposed to be impressed.
He was supposed to be distant.
But his eyes held something else.
Admiration.
Respect.
Possibly even pride.
Clara nodded. "Excellent work. We'll move forward with these."
Doris let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Then Clara added, "Now, Mr. Dangerwaker, your musical inspiration?"
Dante stood slowly.
He clicked a remote.
A haunting melody filled the room—piano notes dripping like tears, layered with soft, mournful vocals.
Everyone fell silent.
Even Doris.
Because somehow, she knew.
This song was about her .
---
A Secret Studio
Later that afternoon, Doris wandered through the halls of Marlowe & Co., unable to shake the feeling that something wasn't right.
She passed Clara's office and caught snippets of a hushed conversation.
"…he's not here just for the music."
"…she doesn't know yet."
Doris froze.
She backed away silently.
Her pulse pounded.
Who didn't know what?
She needed answers.
So she did what she always did when things got confusing.
She sketched.
She flipped open her notebook and began drawing Dante—not as she saw him now, but as she imagined him then.
Dark eyes.
Haunted soul.
A man chasing ghosts.
When she finished, she noticed something strange.
In the corner of the page, barely visible, was a symbol.
A small emblem.
Familiar.
She frowned.
Where had she seen that before?
Then it hit her.
Lila Voss's Instagram.
She'd posted a photo once in front of a studio door.
The same symbol carved into the wood.
Dante's old studio.
She grabbed her coat and left the building without telling anyone.
She needed to see it for herself.
---
Breaking In
The studio was located in a forgotten part of Soho, tucked between two shuttered bars.
It was covered in dust and silence.
Doris pushed open the door.
Inside, the space was frozen in time.
Vinyl records lined the shelves.
Sheet music scattered across the piano.
And in the center of the room, a large canvas leaned against the wall.
She walked over and flipped it around.
It was Lila.
Painted in black and gold.
Beautiful.
Broken.
Doris swallowed hard.
She moved further into the room, searching for anything that might explain why Dante had brought her back into his life.
Then she found it.
A locked drawer beneath the desk.
She jiggled the handle.
Locked.
She pulled out a bobby pin from her bag and worked at it until it clicked open.
Inside were letters.
Handwritten.
Signed by Lila.
"Dante, I know you think I'm losing myself in this world, but I'm only trying to find you in it."
"If I disappear, come find me. Please."
"I love you. Even when you run."
Doris closed the drawer slowly.
Her hands trembling.
Had Dante loved Lila?
Was that why he couldn't let go?
Or worse…
Did he bring Doris into his life because she reminded him of her?
---
The Note
As she prepared to leave the studio, something caught her eye.
A folded piece of paper taped to the inside of the door.
She reached up and pulled it off.
Written in neat handwriting:
"Stop digging. Before you get hurt."
Her stomach dropped.
Someone had been watching her.
Someone who didn't want her to uncover the truth.
She shoved the note into her pocket and hurried out.
The streets were dark now.
Rain began to fall again.
She walked quickly, heart pounding.
Halfway home, she glanced behind her.
A figure stood under a streetlight.
Watching.
She picked up her pace.
When she looked again…
They were gone.
---
Flat Moments
Doris slammed the door shut behind her and locked it.
She pressed her back against the wood, breathing heavily.
What was happening?
Who was watching her?
And most importantly—
Why?
She pulled out the note and read it again.
"Stop digging. Before you get hurt."
She looked at her sketchpad.
At the image of Dante.
At the hidden symbol.
At the words Lila had written.
Then she picked up her phone.
And typed one name into the search bar.
LilaVoss
She needed the truth.
No matter the cost.