She did make herself a non-issue. And now the clause is fulfilled by me marrying Cece.
Fuck. I need to get out of here. Cece’s voice seemed strained over the call. The urgency was biting. Almost as if she knew I was in the presence of an ex-girlfriend.
“I… I better go,” I mumble as I stand up.
She nods, her expression soft with remembered memories, perhaps. “Yeah. Of course. I’ll…” She trails off like this moment shouldn’t even have happened for her.
And I’m feeling torn about why I said any of it.
Realization dawns on me like I’ve been hit by a truck.
Shit, shit,shit.
I just told her about the clause. Something no one outside of my family or Cece’s knows. I doubt Iris would even care about telling anyone. But I know I’ve made a stupid error in sharing it.
“Uh—by the way. The clause is… a need-to-know. I’d appreciate it if—”
“Oh yes, of course.” Surprise flickers across her face. Maybe even hurt, that I’d think she needed reminding. “You don’t have to worry,” she adds quietly. “I’ll keep it to myself.”
I nod, relieved. But that urgency to leave is clawing deeper now. “Right, thanks. I, uh… gotta go. Catch you later.”
I make a quick exit before I can say something else idiotic. But my mind isn’t quiet. It keeps replaying her expression—wide eyes, that tremor in her voice when she heard about the clause.
Her heartbreak felt so obvious. Yet I’m struggling to understand why it was even there.
Shaking my head, I try to erase her from it.
I text Cece that I’ll be there soon and head to my apartment first.
A quick shower later, I decide I’ll work out atherbuilding instead of mine tonight—if I stay over, it’ll keep things simple.
I toss a towel over my shoulder, open the cabinet to grab my protein, and curse under my breath.
I’m running out.Great.
I walk over to the pantry, praying that I made an unconscious effort to stock up but I know I probably haven’t. Then I see it. Two new tubs of my favoriteprotein.
Thank God!
I mindlessly grab one of the tubs, toss it into my duffel, and head out the door.
Somewhere between the elevator and the garage, I find myself thinking not of Cece—but ofIris. And that look on her face I can’t seem to shake. Like I’m missing something important.
??????
“You’re staying over?” she asks with a small, surprised smile the moment I step in, eyes flicking to the duffel bag in my hand.
I chuckle. “Yes. If that’s okay with you, madam.”
Something flickers in her eyes—too quick to name—before she smiles wider and reaches for the bag, brushing her fingers over mine as she takes it.
I watch her watch me with those hesitant, but beautifully serene eyes. I know something is troubling her. And the restraint becomes too obvious as the evening bleeds into night.
Her apartment is softly lit, her favorite playlist humming low in the background—songs I recognize. Peaceful, but I can’t shake the tension slowly gripping the distance between us.
She’s moving through the kitchen, unpacking my duffel. I follow her, walking up behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist. The warmth of her back presses perfectly into me.
She’s staring at the protein tub I packed, gently setting it down on the counter on the far end.
