CHAPTER THREE:THE MASK SLIPS….
900 Words
“You’re a remarkable woman, Maya,
” Mrs. Blake says from the corner, her voice thick with both
grief and pride.
“Not every girlfriend would stay through something like this.
”
I force my lips into something that resembles a smile.
here for him.
”
“He needs me, Mrs. Blake. I need to be
He doesn’t deserve me.
The thought cuts sharp and sudden, bitter and true. But I bury it deep. If I ever say it aloud,
they’ll see me for what I really am. Not a saint, not a savior, just a woman who wants out. And I
can’t let them see that. Not when so much is at stake.
The door creaks open. A wave of perfume rolls in, sweet and expensive, just before Serena
glides inside. She carries lilies, their petals blindingly white against the glitter of her black dress.She looks… composed. Too composed. Odd, considering I only just found out she’s been
sleeping with Adrian.
“I took the first flight as soon as I heard,
” she whispers, placing the bouquet on the table beside
his bed. Her gaze lingers on Adrian far too long, and my stomach twists. That isn’t grief
softening her eyes. It’s guilt. Maybe even longing. A love she has no right to claim.
“Nice of you to come,
” I say flatly, my voice as cold as I can manage.
Serena blinks, as if I’ve slapped her. She recovers fast, offering a weak smile.
my brother. We all love him.
”
“Of course. He’s
Not the way you do.
The words burn my throat, but I keep them locked away. Pretending is easier.
She kisses Mrs. Blake’s cheek, then slips outside, her phone buzzing insistently like a guilty
conscience demanding attention.
Mrs. Blake sighs, pulling her bag onto her shoulder.
miss. But I can trust you to take care of my son, can’t I?”
“Child, I need to get going. A meeting I can’t
I nod, and she pats my cheek before walking out, humming a tune that doesn’t match the grief
in her eyes.
The door closes, and silence drops heavy over the room. I sink into the chair by Adrian’s bed,
exhaustion dragging me down.
That’s when Ethan appears, as though he’s been waiting for this exact moment. He holds out a
paper cup of coffee, steam curling upward in quiet invitation.
“I thought you might need this,
” he says softly.
an empty stomach.
”
“And something to eat. You can’t keep running on
“I’m fine,
” I lie, offering a polite protest.
“You’re not fine,
” he counters, one brow arching.
“You haven’t eaten in twelve hours, maybe
more. I’ve seen statues with more color in their cheeks than you.
”
An impressed laugh slips from me before I can stop it.
What am I—your patient?”
“You’re keeping track of when I eat now?
His lips twitch, but his gaze stays steady.
“Maybe just someone worth caring about.
”
The words knock something loose in me. My throat tightens. No one has said anything like that
to me in… I can’t even remember. I take the coffee, and our fingers brush. The touch is fleeting,
almost accidental, but my pulse jumps.I stare at Adrian’s pale, motionless face.
happy staying here,
” I whisper.
“I don’t know how much longer I can pretend to be
“Pretend for them if you must,
” Ethan murmurs.
“But don’t lie to yourself.
”
A weary sigh slips out.
“Easier said than done, Doc.
”
He laughs, warm and low. It’s not the hollow kind people use to mask discomfort. This one is
real. The sound crawls through me, curling heat in my stomach.
My body betrays me before my mind can catch up. I’m staring at his mouth, following the curve
of his lips. He leans in just slightly, brushing a napkin across my mouth, wiping away a droplet I
hadn’t realized was there. Then, with maddening gentleness, he tucks a strand of hair behind
my ear.
“How can one look so disorganized and still be this cute?” he mutters, almost to himself.
I don’t hear his words. My eyes are locked on his lips, my body strung tight with want and guilt.
The confession breaks free before I can stop it.
“I want you.
”
He freezes, his brow arching in shock. Heat floods my face. Shame claws at my throat as I
realize I might have gone too far.
“I—I didn’t mean—forget I said that—
”
But my apology dies as his mouth crashes onto mine.
The kiss is fierce, desperate. I barely get enough time to react as he flings his stethoscope on
the floor. His hands grip my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I melt into his body. He’s
hard against me, undeniable, and a moan slips from my lips as his tongue claims my mouth.
He lifts me easily, pressing me back against the wall. My hands clutch his shoulders, grounding
me in the only thing that feels alive in this sterile room.
And then—
The door swings open, slamming against the wall.
Serena.
Her eyes lock on us. His hands gripping my waist. My lips swollen. My body still pressed against.....him.
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