SELENE

I had promised myself I would tell Sebastian the truth today.

But when the moment came, I couldn't bring myself to do it-not after everything we had shared yesterday. Not after the laughter, the quiet conversations, the meal we'd eaten together. Not after lying beside him, breathing the same air. Not after the words he'd whispered to me in the dark.

What was I supposed to do after that?

The question weighed heavily on my chest, leaving me torn between guilt and longing. I knew what the right thing was. I had always known. And yet, the selfish part of me, the part that wanted this fragile peace to last just a little longer won.

So I stayed silent.

And I kept the truth to myself.

There was no point telling him. That was the excuse I clung to, the one I repeated to myself until it dulled the edge of guilt pressing against my chest. The truth would only confuse him. At least, that's what I told myself.

"What are you thinking about?" A raspy voice murmured beside me.

I turned my head and found Sebastian already awake. He lay on his side, facing me, one arm bent beneath his head, his knuckles propping his cheek as he watched me with quiet attentiveness.

I blinked, still not fully accustomed to waking up this close to him. "Nothing." I replied, pushing myself upright. "I should go-"

My words dissolved into a sharp breath as he reached out, his hand circling my waist and gently but firmly pulling me back. The movement stopped me in place, my pulse skidding as I realized he had no intention of letting me slip away so easily.

He leaned closer, his grip loosening though his hand remained firm at my waist.

"Disappearing again?" He murmured, his voice low, almost lazy.

I shook my head quickly. "I just wanted to take a shower."

"Hm." The sound vibrated against my skin as his thumb began tracing slow, absent circles at my side. "And you're planning to get up without doing it?"

I tilted my head, genuinely confused. "Doing what?"

His lips curved into a faint pout.

I frowned, studying his face, trying to decipher what he meant, only to realize he was enjoying my confusion far too much.

"I'm running low on energy." He murmured, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "I need a recharge."

Recharge?

"Are you hungry?" The question slipped out before I could think.

"Yes." His answer came easily, his thumb still tracing idle circles along my side, sending an unfamiliar flutter through my stomach. His touch was doing things to me-quiet, unsettling things I wasn't prepared for.

Then he leaned closer, close enough that I felt his breath brush my cheek.

"But not for food."

His voice dropped. "There's something else I'm craving."

Oh.

Heat rushed to my face as understanding dawned on me.

Right.

I definitely knew what he meant.

I swallowed and tried to look away, but he caught my chin with a single finger, tilting my face up, as though giving me time to pull back if I wanted to. I didn't. My lips parted on a shaky breath as our noses brushed, his warmth so close it stole the air from my lungs. His lips hovered there, a heartbeat away.

Sebastian was about to kiss me. I felt it in the charged stillness between us, in the way the world seemed to narrow until there was nothing but that fragile distance. One small movement, just one, and our lips would meet.

Did I want this? Of course I did.

But my heart wasn't racing with anticipation. It was pounding with fear.

What if he remembered the kiss on the couch? What if, in this moment, another woman's name slipped from his lips? The thought tightened my chest, yet it didn't stop the ache of wanting him. I wanted his kiss. I wanted to know how it felt-again, or maybe for the first time.

His lips were just about to touch mine when the door swung open.

I flinched like a teenager caught doing something forbidden. We both snapped our heads toward the doorway, and there stood the Kingsley family, frozen in place, mouths hanging open. That was when reality crashed down on me. Sebastian was half over me, close enough that there was no mistaking what they'd walked in on.

I scrambled away and sat up, my face burning. Sebastian rolled off to the other side of the bed, muttering something under his breath that I couldn't quite catch.

"Don't you guys know how to knock?" He snapped, irritation sharp in his voice as he dragged a hand through his hair.

"Sorry." Mr. Kingsley said, waving a dismissive hand at Sebastian before turning to June. "Why didn't you knock before coming in?"

"I didn't know they would be..." Nora gestured awkwardly with her hands, trailing off.

I stared at my lap, my heart still racing for reasons I wasn't sure I wanted to untangle just yet.

"So... how are you feeling, Sebastian?" Mrs. Kingsley cut in quickly, her voice a little too bright as she crossed the room, a nylon bag of takeaways rustling in her hand.

Sebastian merely shrugged as he pushed himself upright on the couch, his expression unreadable, as though nothing unusual had just happened.

I slipped off the bed, suddenly unsure of where to place myself, and rubbed at my elbow in a nervous, absent motion.

Mrs. Kingsley's sharp voice cut through the room. "What are you doing just standing there? Don't you know you're supposed to arrange this?" She pointed pointedly at the takeaways as she set them down on the table.

"I'm sorry." I murmured, hurrying forward to do as told.

I had barely reached for the containers when a firm hand closed around my wrist, stopping me cold. I looked up, startled, straight into Sebastian's eyes.

"What are you trying to do?" His voice came out low and tight, edged with something that sounded dangerously close to anger.

I turned instinctively toward my mother-in-law. Her mouth hung open, shock written plainly across her face, as the room fell into a stunned, uneasy silence.

Mrs. Kingsley was the first to recover.

"Sebastian," she said carefully, the smile she forced into place failing to reach her eyes. "I was only asking Selene to help. There's no need for that tone."

His grip on my wrist didn't loosen.

"She doesn't work for you." He replied flatly.

A heavy silence settled over the room.

"I'm your mother," Mrs. Kingsley said at last, her composure stiffening. "And she's your wife. Arranging food isn't beneath her."

Sebastian's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking beneath his skin.

"And ordering her around isn't your place."

His mother scoffed. "When did I order her?" She asked, turning to the others as though searching for support.

No one spoke.

Sebastian turned to me then. His hand finally released my wrist, but the warmth of his touch lingered. "Go sit," he said gently. "I'll arrange it."

Without waiting for a response, he moved to the table and began unpacking the dishes himself.

He had told me to sit, yet I remained rooted where I stood. I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing. I was used to the sharp words, the casual authority in my mother-in-law's voice, the way my sister-in-law echoed it. I had learned to accept it, to endure it.

But this... this version of Sebastian, standing between me and them without hesitation sent a warmth spreading through my chest. I tried to hide my smile, but it slipped out anyway, betraying me completely.

With Sebastian openly defying his mother, the atmosphere in the ward shifted. The air grew strained. I noticed how careful they became, how their words softened, how their confidence faltered.

They spoke of his health. Of the family business. Of things that felt suddenly trivial.

And yet, throughout it all, Sebastian never once let me out of his sight.

***

After days in the hospital, Sebastian was finally discharged. Relief should have been the loudest thing in my chest. Instead, it was dread.

To keep my lies intact, I called Vincent and asked him to bring Sebastian's belongings to the house. Clothes, shoes, the little things that made it look as though he truly lived there. Together, we rearranged the space, added items that had never belonged, filled empty corners with borrowed memories until the house resembled a matrimonial home.

Too convincing, perhaps.

As I stood there, surveying our handiwork, a question gnawed at me. Was I going too far? Was this still protection... or outright deception?

The question lingered as Sebastian stepped inside.

He paused just beyond the doorway, his gaze drifting slowly around the house, taking in every detail as though he were searching for something he couldn't name.

"Does it look familiar?" I asked, watching him carefully.

"No." He replied.

His eyes had settled on the wedding portrait hanging in the living room. It hadn't been there before. I had made sure of that. A married couple was supposed to have their wedding photo on display. At least, that was what I'd told myself when I hung it there.

"Would you like anything?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"Water." He said, finally looking away from the portrait.

"Okay."

I walked to the fridge, retrieved a bottle of water, and turned back-

He was gone.

A sudden unease crept up my spine. I hurried into the living room and froze.

Sebastian stood between the couch and the table, an envelope clutched in his hand.

My heart stopped.

The divorce papers.

I had forgotten them. Forgotten to hide them. Forgotten to erase the one thing that could destroy everything I'd built.

"No!" I shouted, rushing toward him.

But I was already too late.

Sebastian had opened the envelope.

I had lied so many times that I no longer knew where the truth ended and the deception began.

SELENE

I rushed forward just as Sebastian opened the envelope, and in that instant I understood that some lies don't need words to destroy you.

I tore the envelope and the papers from his hands with such force that the paper ripped. If there was one thing I was desperate to protect in that moment, it was my lies. I shoved the files behind my back, my breaths coming fast and uneven.

Sebastian stared at me, visibly stunned.

I didn't know if that look was because of how violently I had snatched the papers from him, or because he had already seen what was inside.

Had he seen it?

Had he read it?

I'd grabbed them almost immediately, before he could properly look. That had to count for something. Maybe he hadn't seen anything. Maybe I was still safe.

Please, I prayed silently.

Please let him tell me he didn't see it.

"S-Sebastian..." I called, my voice catching as I searched desperately for words that refused to come.

His lips curved, not quite a smile, not quite a frown. "Were you planning to tell me... or was I never supposed to find it?"

My heart slammed violently against my ribs. I staggered back a step, my breath hitching. "Sebastian... I-"

The words dissolved in my throat. Tears burned behind my eyes, blurring my vision. Who was I to think this fragile peace could last? Who was I to hope that-

I exhaled shakily and dropped my gaze. "This is..."

"What was that?" He interrupted.

I looked up, startled. "What?"

"The papers." He said evenly. "The files you're hiding behind you. What are they?"

I swallowed hard, blinking back the tears threatening to spill. "You... didn't see them?"

"With how fast you ripped them out of my hands," he replied, his voice calm but sharp around the edges, "there was no chance I could've."

A breath of relief slipped out of me before I could stop it.

He hadn't seen it yet.

"They're..." My throat closed around the word. I swallowed, forcing air back into my lungs as my mind scrambled for something that could pass for the truth. "They're confidential documents. You aren't meant to see them yet."

The silence that followed was heavy.

Sebastian didn't answer right away. His gaze stayed on me, but the warmth I was getting used to seeing there had dimmed. His brows drew together, not in anger, but in quiet thought.

Slowly, he tilted his head, like he was trying to look at me from a different angle.

"Yet?" He echoed softly, and his eyes flicked briefly to the torn edge of the paper clenched behind my back, then returned to my face.

He didn't reach for it.

But the way he sighed told me he didn't believe me. Not completely.

"They're artwork papers." I said, forcing the words out before my courage could fail me. I leaned into the lie, dressing it up carefully. "My team and I are still working on them. They're... confidential." I swallowed, then added softly. "I'm sorry for grabbing them like that."

For a moment, he only watched me.

Then something in him eased. His shoulders relaxed, the tension draining away as he nodded once, as if he had decided to accept my explanation-not because it was convincing, but because he chose to.

"Alright."

He looked around the house again. "So..." he said, turning back to me, "where is our room?"

A smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. Behind my back, my fingers tightened around the papers, crumpling them slightly.

"Let me show you." I said, and stepped forward, leading him deeper into the lie I had built for us both.

When we reached the bedroom, Sebastian stopped at the doorway.

He didn't step in immediately. He just stood there, taking it all in, his gaze moving slowly, as though the room were speaking to him in a language he almost understood.

We had never shared a bedroom before. Not really. He had his, one he barely used, and I had mine. But after the lie I'd sold him, after I'd painted a picture of love and closeness, it would have been strange to keep up that distance. So I'd moved his things into my room and turned it into ours.

Sebastian finally stepped inside.

His fingers brushed the nightstand, then the edge of the bed. He picked up the pillow, squeezed it once, as if testing something familiar hidden beneath the fabric. None of it looked deliberate. It felt instinctive like muscle memory reaching for a past his mind refused to give him.

Then he turned to me and smiled.

Relief washed over me so suddenly I almost swayed. That smile felt like a pardon I hadn't earned.

"Come." He said, lifting a hand toward me.

"What is it?" I asked, moving closer anyway.

He took my hands gently, as if afraid they might disappear if he held them too tightly.

"It feels nice to be home." He said softly, his smile deepening.

Home.

The word twisted something in my chest.

Still, I smiled back because that was what I was supposed to do, even as the lie settled heavier between us.

Don't let your guilt ruin this moment, my subconscious warned.

"Did I ever tell you?" Sebastian said, giving my hand a gentle tug as he led me toward the bed.

"Tell me what?" I asked.

"That you have a beautiful smile." His voice dropped to a gentler tone as he lowered himself onto the mattress.

My lips curved without permission, the smile deepening until it nearly became a grin. I brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I hear that a lot."

His brows lifted slightly. "From who?"

He sat on the edge of the bed then, pulling me closer until I stood between his knees. He looked up at me, eyes steady, curious.

"People..." My voice wavered as I answered.

My hair slipped forward, grazing my cheek, and I became acutely aware of how close he was. He had only touched my hand, yet my body reacted as if he had done much more.

"Then you should warn people before you smile," he murmured, tipping backward and taking me with him. "It's distracting."

He landed on the mattress first and patted the empty space beside him.

"You should shower before lying on the bed." I scolded, though the protest was weak. He ignored it anyway, tugging me down until I was beside him.

"You're tense." He said quietly, studying my face.

My pulse skidded, every nerve awake to the quiet intensity of his gaze. I fixed my gaze on the ceiling instead, afraid of what he might see if I looked back. "You make it hard not to be." I whispered.

A low chuckle vibrated against my hair. "I'll take that as a compliment."

My eyes betrayed me, drifting back to him. A glance turned into a stare. I hadn't known that simply looking at someone-this quietly, this closely-could make me feel so alive, so seen. It made me want more, even if I didn't know what more was yet.

So when Sebastian shifted closer, I didn't flinch. When his thumb traced slow, absent circles at my waist and lingered at my stomach, I stayed still, even as my breathing grew shallow.

My lips parted instinctively when I felt his breath brush my cheek, his mouth lowering closer, and closer. I closed my eyes, waiting.

But his lips never found mine.

Instead, he kissed my chin, then lingered, trailing soft, deliberate kisses up my cheek.

Disappointment flickered briefly but it was quickly swallowed by the sensation blooming through me. A sound I didn't recognize slipped from my lips as my hands rose to his neck, fingers curling there, holding him.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and rested his brow against mine, just for a heartbeat, before drifting to my temple. His body shuddered as he exhaled, as though he was breathing me in.

Another breath followed, deeper this time. He stayed there.

"Sebastian..." I whispered.

"Stay." He purred, his voice low, vibrating against my skin. "Let's stay like this for a while."

And for once, I didn't feel the urge to run.

"If I fall asleep like this," he murmured, his voice already slipping to sleep, "promise you won't disappear."

I stilled.

"Why do you think I'd disappear?" I asked softly.

He shifted, settling his head more comfortably against my shoulder. "You're always running, he whispered, the words slurring slightly. "Like I scare you."

The words stunned me. I hadn't realized he noticed. Not once had I thought my distance was visible to him. It wasn't fear that made me pull away, but how could I explain that now?

Before I could speak, he stirred again, his voice softer, blurred by sleep. "So... promise me."

My fingers slid into his hair, gentle. "I promise."

Almost instantly, his breathing slowed, evening out, his body relaxing as if the promise itself had anchored him. I smiled despite myself, continuing to trace lazy patterns along his scalp, watching the rise and fall of his chest.

"You really should've showered before sleeping." I whispered teasingly, studying the familiar lines of his face as though I were seeing them for the first time. My hand lifted, drawn toward his lashes-

Then his lips parted.

"Irene."

The name fell from him like a ghost.

My hand stilled midair, then trembled as I pulled it back. The warmth in my chest collapsed into something aching. Even now, her name still found its way out of him.

And it shattered me.