I couldn't sleep last night.
I kept hearing the echo of my own heartbeat in that gallery. Kept seeing Kairo's profile—his calm, untouchable presence—like it had been carved from stone just to undo me.
He didn't even look my way.
Not once.
And I told myself that was good. That it made things easier. Cleaner.
But deep down, it felt like erasure.
This morning, the house is quiet—until Elijah's voice floats through the hallway, cheerful and annoyingly early.
He's balancing two paper bags from the bakery downtown and humming a tune I don't recognize as he walks into the kitchen. I'm sitting at the counter, trying to finish a rough sketch. I haven't even brushed my hair.
'Morning, Squirt,' he grins. 'I brought sugar and apologies. I know I've been too busy lately.'
I give him a weak smile. 'It's fine. I've been busy too.'
He sets the bags down and starts unpacking, dropping pastries onto a plate like he's been doing it his whole life. In some ways, he has. Elijah is the kind of man who carries routines like armor. Structure. Control. Familiarity.
It makes sense why he and Kairo get along.
I bite into a croissant and keep my head down, hoping the silence will stretch long enough for him to leave. But of course, it doesn't.
'Oh—guess who I ran into last night?'
My heart freezes.
I don't look up.
'Who?'
'Kairo. At the gallery downtown. He didn't say much—just nodded and dipped early. But he looked... off.'
I say nothing.
Elijah keeps going. 'I think the Europe case rattled him more than he'll admit. He's been quiet. Withdrawn. Not even answering some of my calls.'
I finally look up. 'Really?'
Elijah shrugs. 'He gets like that sometimes. When he's in his head. You know how he is.'
I don't respond.
Because no, I don't know how he is.
Not really.
Not anymore.
I know how he makes me feel.
I know how he made me wait at a door that never opened.
I know the sound of his voice when he says my name like it matters—only to disappear when it counts.
I know the weight of wanting someone who treats silence like safety.
Elijah nudges the last bag toward me. 'Eat. You're too quiet. You're thinking again.'
'I'm always thinking.'
'Maybe think about taking a break sometime. Come with me to the Hamptons next weekend. Kairo might be there, actually—'
I stand up too fast.
'No. I mean… I have deadlines. For school. For the studio. I can't.'
He watches me.
'You okay?'
'I'm fine.'
The biggest lie of all.