Page 114 of Rush

Philippa paces a few steps across the library before turning to face me, arms folded tight across her chest.

“I thought you were supportive of Broderick and I,” I say trying for a light-hearted approach.

“And I thought you weren’t interested?” she quips back her voice sharp.

Touché.

“Elena…look, I’m not trying to be a bitch—” She exhales hard, like the words won’t settle. “After everything that happened with Alex…are you sure this is a good idea?”

“I’m fine.”

She gives me a knowing look. “Are you? Because I’m not sure jumping into bed with Broderick is the solution.”

“It’s not like that.” My voice uncertain. Broderick was fulfilling a need. Nothing more.I think.

Her brow arches. “Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like that.”

I sigh, sinking into one of the leather armchairs, so tired I could melt.

“Pip…we’re both consenting adults. We’re just…” I shrug, aiming for casual. “Having some fun.”

Her expression doesn’t shift. Her eyes stay on mine, scanning my face like she can see every part I’m not saying out loud.

“And he’s on board with this…ideaof fun?” she asks gently, tone somewhere between cautious and concerned.

I nod. But even I can feel the hesitation dragging behind it. “Yeah. He knows what this is. We both do.”

She’s quiet for a beat.

“Elena…Andrew and I love him. You know that, right? He’s one of my closest friends. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt. And I really don’t want to be put in a position where I have to pick sides.”

The words land heavier than I expect. Still, I force a smile. “You won’t have to.”

She doesn’t look convinced.

“Look…this—whatever it is—it’s just something I need right now. For me. Outside the chaos of my career, this family, everything.” My voice cracks slightly. “I want something that’smine. Something that makes me feel…less lonely. And would you rather I do this with some random stranger? Someone who’ll turn around and sell a story to the tabloids about how Mortimer Montgomery’s wayward daughter is spiraling again?”

Philippa’s expression softens. Her shoulders finally relax.

“I trust Broderick, he’s my friend too.”

But even as I say it, something tightens inside me. The ache blooms in my chest.

Were we still just friends? Or was I already lying—to her, to him, to myself?

I brush those thoughts away.

Philippa eases down onto the edge of the chair across from me, eyes steady.

“I get it,” she says finally. “I do. I don’t want to see you get your heart broken again. You put on this front like you’re fine, but I know you’re not. The stuff with Alex—it still affects you.”

“It does, but I can’t switch my heart off…and Broderick—he makes me feel better.”

Even if only for a little while.

She reaches out, squeezes my hand. “Please don’t hurt each other.”

I don’t answer.