But even as the warmth spread through me, guilt pricked at the edges. Because I knew what I was fighting, what I had been fighting from the moment I arrived. And now that I had touched her, held her close and kissed her until neither of us could breathe. Leaving felt impossible, but staying felt just as complicated.
When I stepped out of the shower a few minutes later, towel around my waist, the air outside the bathroom felt cooler. The faint smell of coffee drifted from the kitchen; she must have gone to start the pot. Then I heard it. A soft chime from my phone. A notification. Most likely another email. Maybe a news alert or some meaningless London chatter. But Brianna’s voice carried down the hall, startled and quiet.
I stepped into the hallway, still damp, hair dripping onto my shoulders. My stomach tightened when I saw her standing near the small table by the door, my phone in her hand, face turned slightly away as if she feared she’d seen something she shouldn’t have.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Someone umm, texted. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pick it up, I thought it was mine.”
My heart thudded sharply. She swallowed, eyes lifting to meet mine, wide, wounded, already bracing for the worst.
“The flights are back on,” she said, almost choking on the words.
The world stood still for a beat. The heat from the shower vanished from my skin, the morning light felt suddenly colder, and in Brianna’s eyes, I saw the flicker of something breaking. Not anger but neither surprise. It was hurt, deep and quiet. Our sudden bubble had burst.
She placed the phone back on the table with trembling fingers.
“So that’s it then,” she whispered. “You’re leaving.”
My breath stilled in my throat. Not because she was wrong, but because she might now believe it meant last night meant nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The kettle clicked off just as the bathroom door closed behind Oliver. I wrapped my hands around the mugs, letting the warmth soak into my palms. The flat felt different this morning, still, quiet, heavy with everything that had happened in the hours before dawn. My dress lay crumpled over the arm of the sofa. The fairy lights glowed faintly in the pale morning, their soft gold reflecting off the hardwood floor.
Part of me wanted to sit and replay every moment of the night. Another part wanted to run. My heartbeat fluttered somewhere between the two.
I turned toward the counter to fetch sugar, my bare feet cold against the floorboards, when Oliver’s phone buzzed on the little table near the door. I froze. Not because I was curious. But because something inside me clenched — sharp, instinctive, unwelcome.
It buzzed again, a soft, persistent vibration. I shouldn’t have looked. I truly shouldn’t have.
But my eyes flicked toward the screen, just for a second and that second was enough to catch the preview from a Mira.
Flights have resumed. Booked you for tomorrow morning. Mum’s getting annoyed now, you need to finalise everything today.
My stomach dropped. I straightened instantly, guilt washing over me. It washisphone. His private life. I had no right.
I turned away, pressing my fingers to my temple.
Why did you look?I hated the answer long before it formed.
Because last night meant something. Because waking up beside him had felt… different. Because I didn’t want the reality of him leaving to arrive so quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to calm myself.
“Why did I do that?” I whispered to the empty room. “Idiot Bri”
I hated that I cared. I hated how my feelings were terrifying me. I knew he was leaving, he was always going to leave, eventually.
I finished stirring the coffee with hands that weren’t quite steady. When Oliver stepped out of the bathroom moments later, hair damp, moving with that easy sort of confidence he didn’t know he had… something inside my chest twisted painfully. He smiled until he saw me standing with his phone still in my hand, and all at once, I wished I could un-see that message.
“Brianna?” he said, voice gentle.
“Someone umm, texted. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pick it up, I thought it was mine.” I managed, handing him a mug. “The flights are back on.”
Those few moments where he stood there and I watched him closely felt like an eternity. I couldn’t help but keep my mouth from speaking when I finally said those words out loud, he was leaving.
I sat down on the sofa, wrapping my hands around my mug, letting the warmth steady me.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have read your messages.” I said quietly. “
