Rhett
Seven days after the accident, Ayla could finally walk without the crutch. For most people, that would be normal progress—but for me? It felt like watching someone who had just fallen off a cliff suddenly stand up and say, “I’m fine.”
No. Ayla was not fine. She was just smart enough to hide her pain behind bravery instead of whining about her fractured leg and arm.
That morning, she appeared in front of the Corsetti mansion garage with a serious face—but her eyes… God. Those bright eyes could crush my pride with one look.
“Rhett,” she said, dangling the car key in front of me, “teach me how to drive. Please. I need a car so I can finish that Romeo & Juliet project. I don’t want to keep asking the driver to take me everywhere.”
I stared at her for a long time. I always do. Tryin
