THE MORNING AFTER
1436 Words
Morning — Aliana’s POV
Aliana woke slowly, wrapped in warm sheets and the faint memory of Atticus’s lips.
For a second, she thought she’d dreamed it.
Then her phone buzzed.
Atticus Everheart:
Good morning, Aliana.
I hope you slept better than I did.
Another text followed:
Atticus:
Not that I didn’t sleep. I just kept thinking.
About how you smell like vanilla and rain.
And how I absolutely should NOT be thinking that at 7 a.m.
One more:
Atticus:
Also, please don’t run away from me today.
I’d like to keep my sanity intact.
She snorted—actually snorted—into her pillow.
A laugh bubbled out of her chest, embarrassingly giddy.
He’s too much, she thought.
Entirely too much.
And yet… she was smiling.
She showered, trying not to think about the kiss, but every drop of hot water brought back the feel of his hands, his voice saying her name like it meant something.
She got dressed, towel-dried her hair—
And then her phone exploded.
Notifications. Mentions. Messages.
Her sisters. Friends. Even Adriana’s PR assistant.
Arabella:
OH MY GOD GO CHECK TWITTER RIGHT NOW
Adriana:
Sweetheart, don’t panic.
…But you need to see this.
Aliana’s stomach dropped.
She opened the link.
There she was.
In every angle possible.
Walking beside Atticus.
Smiling softly at him.
His hand brushing hers.
Titles screamed across the screen:
> “ATTICUS EVERHEART SPOTTED WITH NEW MYSTERY GIRL—THE SHY VALENCOURT HEIRESS?”
> “BAD BOY EVERHEART CHECKS ANOTHER NAME OFF HIS LIST.”
> “ALIANa VALENCOURT DESPERATE FOR ATTENTION? SOURCES SAY SHE CHASES MEN LIKE HER SISTER.”
Her pulse spiked.
Then she saw the worst one:
> “Is Atticus Cheating? The Everheart Family’s Preferred Match Revealed.”
Below was a photo—months old, but the internet didn’t care.
A stunning woman stood beside Atticus at a charity gala.
Tall, blonde, ethereal.
Green eyes that shone like gemstones.
A couture gown that looked hand-stitched by gods.
The caption read:
> “Seraphina Laurent — rumored Everheart fiancée in a potential business merger.”
Aliana stared at her.
Seraphina looked like she belonged in glossy magazines, floating through life with champagne confidence.
Next to her, Aliana suddenly felt like…
…like the quiet sister.
…the one always in the background.
…the introvert who never quite fits the room.
…the “cute” one, never the breathtaking one.
More comments rolled in:
> “Aliana is sweet but Seraphina is NEXT LEVEL.”
“Why would he pick the shy ballerina over a socialite?”
“Seraphina is Everheart material. Aliana isn’t.”
“This will calm Atticus down. No more running around with random girls.”
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
She didn’t want to care.
She shouldn’t care.
But her chest tightened anyway, an ache blooming under her ribs.
Not jealousy.
Not exactly.
Just… the painful reminder:
She never competes.
She never wants to.
But this felt like being compared without agreeing to participate.
Her phone buzzed again.
Atticus:
Are you awake?
I’m trying very hard not to imagine you reading these articles.
Please tell me you’re okay.
She swallowed.
Because she wasn’t.
Not really.
And that scared her
.....
Continuation — Aliana & Atticus
Aliana’s POV
Aliana stared at her phone until the texts blurred.
She hated that this hurt.
Hated that she was letting strangers, tabloids, and a perfect blonde woman make her feel… small.
She set her jaw, inhaled, and typed back:
Aliana:
I’m fine. Just internet being internet.
She tossed her phone on her bed and stood, pacing—
only to hear the faint chime of the front gate.
She froze.
No way.
But then her phone buzzed again.
Atticus:
I’m outside.
Open the door.
Her heart launched itself against her ribs.
He came?
Like actually came?
She padded downstairs and opened the door.
Atticus stood there, slightly out of breath, hair a little messy like he’d run his hands through it a thousand times on the drive.
His expression softened the second he saw her.
“Hi,” he said quietly, stepping inside.
“I told you I was fine,” she muttered, crossing her arms.
“That was a lie.”
He brushed past her into the foyer without waiting.
She blinked. “I—you can’t just show up like this.”
“I absolutely can,” he said, turning to her. “Especially when the person I care about is pretending something didn’t bother her.”
Her stomach flipped at care about.
She looked away. “It’s really nothing, Atticus.”
“Aliana.”
He said her name with that softness that made her want to melt and run at the same time.
“Look at me.”
Reluctantly, she did.
His eyes were tender. Concerned. Unusually serious.
“You’re allowed to be upset,” he said. “The things they said about you were disgusting.”
“It’s not about me,” she lied.
He shook his head slowly. “Then what is it?”
Silence.
She opened her mouth—
then closed it again.
He stepped closer, voice gentle:
“Is it her?”
Her breath caught.
“Seraphina,” he said quietly. “The woman in the photo.”
Aliana’s fingers curled into her palms.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.”
She swallowed hard. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”
“Aliana,” he murmured, “you looked like you got punched in the chest.”
Her mask cracked.
“I didn’t like reading the things they said,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
“About me. About you. About… that woman.”
His brows drew together.
“You think I’m involved with her.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Atticus stepped even closer.
“She means nothing to me. She always meant nothing.”
“She’s beautiful,” Aliana mumbled before she could stop herself.
Atticus stopped breathing.
“And?” he asked, stunned.
“She looks like someone who fits next to you,” Aliana whispered.
“Someone the world takes seriously. Someone who doesn’t get mistaken for the… the cute sister or the quiet one or—”
“Stop,” he said softly but with unmistakable firmness.
She did.
Atticus lifted her chin gently with his fingers, making her meet his eyes.
“You are not the cute one. Or the quiet one.”
His voice dropped to a near-growl.
“You’re the one who walked into my life and made everything else look dull.”
Her breath stuttered.
“And that kiss,” he added, mouth brushing her temple without touching, “was not a kiss I give to someone I don’t care about.”
Her pulse roared in her ears.
She stepped back a tiny inch—just enough to calm her own racing heart.
He let her, because he understood her.
She spoke first.
“You didn’t have to come all this way.”
“I did,” he said immediately. “Because you matter to me. And because I’m not letting a lie undo what happened between us.”
“Atticus…” she warned softly.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he smirked lightly, trying to ease her tension, “I’m not about to confess my undying love.”
She laughed despite herself.
He took a slow breath.
“I just want you to know I’m here. Even when you try pretending you don’t need anyone.”
“I never said I don’t need anyone.”
“You don’t have to. It’s written all over you.”
He paused, softer now.
“But you can lean on me, Aliana. I won’t break.”
She bit her lip.
“You’re… you’re too gentle for your own good.”
“And you’re too strong for yours,” he teased lightly.
The air thickened between them.
Warm. Charged.
Something real forming.
Her phone buzzed again—another headline, probably.
Atticus didn’t look away from her.
“Whatever they say,” he murmured, “it’s just noise.”
“And what are we?” she asked quietly.
He smiled—slow, warm, sure.
“Something real,” he said simply.
“Something I’m not running away from.”
Her heartbeat kicked.
“Can I hug you?” he asked softly, surprising her again.
She hesitated—then nodded.
He pulled her in gently—never too tight, always giving her space to pull away.
She didn’t.
Not for a long moment.
And she realized—
She didn’t want to.
- Writer
