Fix this.
Fix.
I hastily grab my phone again, the notes app still open, and rapidly type out my latest thought.
Press conference or interview to clarify
Christ. This sounds so deliriously insufficient. What would I even say?‘Yes, I agreed to the marriage but I actually do love him?’
I doubt it would sway public perception when he’s already been pictured with his former flame.
My vision clouds and suddenly fills with a hand grabbing my phone. And I realize Levi is now standing beside me. The lapels of his plaid, open shirt in the direct line of my vision.
I almost grab it—yearning to tug it. But I’ve learned my lesson. He doesn’t recognize it. My signal. And a hug from him right now will be damaging to the cool streak of numbness I have flowing through my veins.
“Baby,please. Look at me?” He’s awfully quiet evenwhen he speaks. I’m guessing he’s cautious about hurting me since the sensory overload episode I had.
Still, I don’t obey. My hand gripping my phone tighter—unable to surrender it to his grasp.
“Sebastian,” I whisper finally.
I watch him nod in my periphery. “Yes. I’ll ask him to help. Baby, I… Taewon has arranged an emergency meeting at the Astor office. To see how we can—fuck—fix this. You up for it?”
Frowning, I manage to finally lift up my face. The coldness in my fingers barely registering the warmth of his hands. “Yeah.”
I feel the stretch of my facial muscles relax when I force the tension away. And that’s when I realize I’ve probably been frowning—or grimacing.
“Let’s…” I sigh. “Let’s go. I’ll call my lawyer, he can—”
“Already done.” His voice is soft. Gentle in the same way as Amanda’s was. Like I’m one wrong word away from breaking.
I’m not. I’mreally not.
Levi doesn’t speak further. He simply stuffs my phone in my purse and walks us out. I’m vaguely aware of the pill bottle of my Seroquel sitting near the photo frame I have of me and Levi on my desk.
I don’t grab it, though. I had pulled it out for my noon alarm. But I let it be. Even though my toes itch to turn back around and snatch the pills from my desk.
Forty-three minutes later we’re here. Assembled in the Astor conference room—waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. I didn’t even ask who all were joining us. The moment Levi confirmed that my lawyer was coming, I relaxed. Jenson would knowwhat was needed.
I stare at the massive TV on the wall, the article front and center. It stays there for what feels like eight endless minutes before Levi finally changes the screen. His voice is clipped, agitated.
The meeting has already started now. I didn’t even notice. My eyes are locked on the television, hoping I can extract some kind of strategy from the visuals alone. But the screen flashes through bullet points too fast, too shallow. Whatever game plan they are discussing—if it can even be called that—isn’t meant for me to understand. I’m not able to.
I can still read.
But listening? Comprehending?That is getting harder by the minute.
Every now and then, I feel a squeeze—on my hand, my thigh. Levi. Trying to keep me tethered to the present. But I am already halfway out of it. Escaping it without wanting to.
What feels like only a few minutes later, people have already scattered—signaling the end of the meeting.
“Noona.”
I flinch. Taewon’s voice. Familiar, brash, usually comforting in its sharpness. He always teased Levi when we bickered, slipping effortlessly into the role of an annoying younger brother.
