The call came the next morning.
And it unsettled me in a way I couldn't immediately explain.
I was still in bed when my phone started vibrating against the nightstand. I stared at it for a full five seconds before picking it up, already irritated. My head felt heavy. I hadn't slept properly. My chest still carried the weight of last night's decision — the job, the restraint, the almost-kiss in the kitchen.
I didn't need anything else.
But life doesn't wait until you're stable.
I answered.
"We need to talk."
His voice.
My stomach dropped instantly.
No greeting. No hesitation. Just that.
"We need to talk. Right now."
Before I could respond, the line disconnected.
A second later, a text came in.
Let's meet up. You know where we normally meet.
Short. Direct. Firm.
My fingers tightened around the phone.
That place.
That past.
That version of me.
My chest began to tighten, and I hated how quickly my body reacted. As if it remembered something my mind was still trying to suppress.
This was exactly what I didn't need.
Not today.
Not when everything already felt unstable.
Not when I was barely holding myself together.
My therapy appointment was in less than an hour. Aaron was probably already getting ready to leave his office.
And now this?
I stood up abruptly and began pacing my room.
Why now?
What does he want this time?
I wasn't ready to go back there. I wasn't ready to reopen old wounds while I was still trying to stitch up the recent ones.
I called Aaron.
He answered on the third ring.
"I need to cancel," I said immediately.
There was a pause on the other end.
"Alyssa," he said calmly, "you can't keep doing this."
"I'm not 'doing' anything," I snapped. "Something came up."
"Something always comes up."
I rolled my eyes and began pacing faster.
"You really have to start taking therapy seriously," he continued. "Avoidance only reinforces the pattern. You can't keep—"
"I know," I cut in. "I know all the professional language. I know the theory."
He exhaled softly.
"Lys," he said, using the nickname that felt too personal for a therapist, "this is important."
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
"I'll reschedule."
"You said that last week."
"I said I'll reschedule."
Silence.
Then finally, reluctantly, "Alright."
I ended the call before he could say anything else.
I didn't care for the professional explanation. I didn't care about patterns or reinforcement or coping mechanisms.
I just knew I needed to handle this first.
I wasn't in the mood to dress up. I didn't want to look polished or prepared. I didn't want to look like I had tried.
So I pulled on jeans and a simple crop top. Nothing dramatic. Nothing impressive.
Just me.
I stepped out of my room and immediately heard noise downstairs.
The mansion was alive already.
Staff moving.
Decorations being arranged.
Voices overlapping.
Tomorrow was Lily's birthday.
I had woken up earlier to the sounds but decided to stay in bed a little longer. I needed the quiet before joining the chaos.
And then the call came.
"You're up, Sisi!"
Elena's voice floated toward me before she did.
She practically ran toward me in the hallway, smiling, glowing, perfectly put together like she had slept eight flawless hours.
"Tomorrow is the D-day!" she said excitedly.
I forced a smile.
"Yes, Elena. From what I can see, everything is turning out fine."
"Of course it is," she laughed lightly. "You know me. I love perfection."
You absolutely do.
"I can see that," I said.
She reached for my hands suddenly.
It caught me off guard.
Elena wasn't usually physically affectionate without reason.
Her fingers wrapped around mine gently, her smile soft but steady.
"Be careful, Lys," she said, still smiling, still looking directly into my eyes.
The words were light.
But something about them didn't sit right.
A strange coldness slid into my stomach.
"Careful?" I repeated.
She tilted her head slightly. "Just… careful."
Then she squeezed my hands once and let go.
I laughed awkwardly.
"Yeah. Sure. I have to head out for a bit. I'll be back soon."
"Okay," she said easily, like nothing strange had just happened.
Typically me.
Always thinking the worst of people.
I had doubted Elena once before — and it had all been in my head. I wasn't going down that road again.
Maybe this is why Victor chose her, I thought.
She's calm. Polished. Stable.
Not an emotional mess like me.
I walked further into the living room.
Victor was sitting beside Lily on the couch, showing her something on the television. She was giggling, leaning against him comfortably.
He looked natural there.
Comfortable.
Belonging.
He barely glanced at me.
The dismissal stung more than I wanted to admit.
Part of me wanted him to look up.
To notice.
To feel something.
Instead, he focused on Lily.
And Elena hovered nearby, supervising decorations with quiet confidence.
They looked perfect.
Like a family.
Like the life I once imagined for myself.
A small pulse of jealousy flared in my chest before I turned away.
This is what I always wanted.
Not chaos.
Not secrecy.
Not almost-kisses in dark kitchens.
I walked toward the front door, trying to steady myself.
I just needed to handle this meeting.
Quickly.
Cleanly.
Then I'd come back.
As I stepped outside, the morning air hit my face.
And almost immediately—
Boom.
I collided straight into someone.
Hard.
The impact knocked the air out of my lungs. My balance slipped instantly, my foot twisting at an awkward angle against the stone driveway. Pain shot up my ankle, sharp and sudden.
And before I could recover—
I was on the ground.
For a split second, everything felt disoriented.
The sky above me looked too bright. Too wide.
The stone beneath my palms felt cold and unforgiving.
My heart pounded violently in my chest, like it was trying to escape.
Voices blurred somewhere in the distance.
Footsteps.
Movement.
But all I could hear was the rush of blood in my ears.
Then—
"Um… Alyssa?"
I blinked.