Chapter 8: Close Encounters
875 Words
I wake up to chaos.
Not the metaphorical kind. The literal, voices-carrying-through-the-walls kind. And as soon as I step into the kitchen, I find the source—Theo and Damien, arguing again. Of course.
“I’m just saying,” Theo waves a butter knife like it’s a sword of truth, “real billionaires drink their coffee black. No cream. No sugar. Just vibes and existential dread.”
Damien, seated at the kitchen island with a pristine cup of espresso, doesn’t even bother looking up. “And I’m just saying I don’t take lifestyle advice from a man wearing a flamingo shirt.”
Theo gasps like Damien just insulted his entire bloodline. “You take that back.”
I groan and rub my temples. “It’s too early for this.”
Theo turns to me, all grins and mischief. “Ah, finally, the princess wakes. Coffee?”
Before I can answer, Damien silently slides a mug across the counter toward me.
I blink at it. Then at him. “How do you—”
“You always make it the same way,” he says simply. “Two sugars, exactly three drops of cream.”
Something tightens in my chest. And then it softens. Damn it.
Theo watches us like he’s just discovered the season finale twist of his favorite show. “Oh my God. This is happening,” he says, pointing between me and Damien. Then, to Damien: “You have a crush.”
Damien finally looks up, smirking. “Are you twelve?”
“Emotionally? Absolutely.” Theo winks at me. “Tell me you see this.”
“I swear, Theo, you are so lucky I haven’t kicked you out yet.”
He just grins, smug. “But you haven’t.”
I grab my coffee and walk out before I do something regrettable, like smile.
I don’t hear Damien chuckle behind me.
Later that day, I hide in the greenhouse.
It’s the one place that still feels like mine. Like it hasn’t been invaded by sarcastic best friends and unreadable billionaires and the creeping shadows of a past I pretend doesn’t exist.
The warm scent of herbs and damp soil wraps around me as I kneel beside the lavender. My hands move automatically—pruning, tending, trying to reclaim a little peace.
Then I hear footsteps behind me.
I don’t bother turning around. “Damien, if you came to lecture me about dodging questions again—”
“It’s not Damien.”
I spin, startled—and nearly drop my shears.
Theo stands there, unusually still. No grin. No punchline.
Immediately, my guard goes up. “Okay, that look is terrifying. What’s going on?”
He leans against one of the wooden posts, watching me with eyes I’ve known my whole life—and somehow, right now, I can’t read them. “I was talking to Damien earlier.”
I raise a brow. “Dangerous pastime.”
“And I realized something.”
“Are you going to say it, or just dramatically pause like this is a movie?”
He runs a hand through his ridiculous hair, and for once, doesn’t make a joke. “You never told me why you left.”
My stomach twists. “Theo—”
“I mean, I know what you told everyone. But it wasn’t the truth, was it?”
My breath catches, and I turn away. “Drop it.”
“No.”
That single word stops me cold.
When I look back at him, the usual spark is gone. What’s left is… him. Honest and unrelenting.
“Something happened, Elara,” he says. “And I get it—you don’t want to talk about it. But I need you to know… you don’t have to handle it alone.”
My chest tightens painfully.
Because this is Theo. The one person who’s always been in my corner, always seen me for who I was—and never made me feel like that wasn’t enough.
But if he knew the truth?
If he knew what I did?
He wouldn’t look at me like this ever again.
So I do the only thing I know how to do.
I pull up the walls.
“I’m fine, Theo.” My voice is sharper than I want it to be, cold enough to bite. “Let it go.”
He studies me, looking for cracks in the armor.
But I’m good at this.
Too good.
Finally, he lifts his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll back off. For now.”
I nod and turn back to the lavender, fingers suddenly unsteady.
A pause. Then: “But if you do need a distraction, I have a genius plan.”
I don’t look up. “Oh, God. What now?”
“Game night.”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious.” He grins again—finally, some of the usual Theo returning. “A little fun won’t kill you, El. Or maybe it will. Guess we’ll find out.”
I roll my eyes.
But somehow, despite everything, a smile pulls at the corners of my mouth.
And for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t feel forced.
- Writer
