"That''s enough, Esmeralda." Fleming''s patience was wearing thin; he couldn''t bear to watch her spiral like this.


    "If you care about her so much, go back andfort her. Why bothering here


    at all? Aren''t you afraid she''ll fall apart the second you step out?" Esmeralda knew she was being petty-she was needling him on purpose. But the urge was impossible to resist.


    She already felt miserable—and now he''d shown up just to make things worse.


    No matter how hard she tried, she couldn''t keep her emotions under control.


    The tension made her stomach cramp even more painfully.


    Fleming noticed right away. He remembered he always remembered— Esmeralda''s recurring battles with the worst kind of cramps. Brow furrowed, he reached out to steady her. "Do you have any painkillers at home?"


    His concern was real. Fleming didn''t go in for shallow gestures or performativepassion.


    But for Esmeralda, everything felt tainted now.


    She''d learned the hard way: once something got stained by what you despised, it never truly came clean again.


    She moved to push his hand away.


    But Fleming''s phone chimed before she could.


    She caught the name on the screen.


    Lucy.


    Fleming answered immediately, like it was second nature this was instinct, a well- worn habit he didn''t even realize he had.


    Esmeralda caught snippets from the other side—a woman''s strained voice, something about feeling ill.


    Fleming''s expression turned stony, and without thinking, he let go of Esmeralda.


    As he let go, Esmeralda felt thest of her support vanish, leaving her hollow and cold.


    "I need to go. About those rumors about Lucy going around-if you started them, Esmeralda, I want you to put a stop to it and set things straight." He tossed the words at her on his way out. He paused, ncing at how pale she looked. A tight, ufortable ache settled in his chest. But he had to take care of Lucy. "I''ll drop byter. Wait for me."


    He hadn''t forgotten why he''d shown up today.


    After all, only Esmeralda had visited his housest night.


    And no one else had such a fraught history with Lucy.


    He didn''t want Lucy dragged into the mess between himself and Esmeralda.


    He didn''t want Esmeralda to let suspicion twist her into doing something she''d regret.


    A hot sh of anger prickled behind Esmeralda''s eyes.


    Because Fleming-he just assumed it was her.


    She didn''t understand how he could be so sure she was the kind of woman to sink


    that low, to be so petty and mean.


    That suspicion felt even more suffocating than the pain.


    Fleming was gone.


    He knew she wasn''t well.


    But he still chose Lucy, every time.


    Swallowing hard, Esmeralda wiped at her eyes, jaw clenched tight. "Bastard."


    They''d grown up side by side; now, he didn''t even trust her.


    She could pretend it didn''t hurt, but that would be a lie.


    Still, at least now she had rity. They were finished her decision to walk away was the right one.


    He''de just to argue, just to defend Lucy. Esmeralda felt like she was being put through the wringer.


    She decided to take the day off.


    She was simply too sick to do anything else.


    She''d barely submitted her leave request when her phone rang.


    Alexander Sterling''s name shed on the screen. He sounded fresh out of a board meeting, his tone clipped and businesslike What wrong? Where do you feel sick?"


    Esmeralda, barely able to stay awake, forced a joke in a weak attempt to distract herself. "Oh, the usual stayed out all night dancing now dying of a hangover. Promise you won''t dock my pay?"


    Alexander det out a slow, wryugh. "Still think you''re eighteen? You really think you have the stamina for that kind of night?


    Esmeralda shot back, "Wow, ever think of trying basic kindness for once?"


    "I''m hanging up. And yes, your pay is getting docked," Alexander replied, no room for exceptions.


    Esmeralda red at her phone, ready to fire off a retort-but Alexander had already hung up.


    She couldn''t help but lightly smack her phone in frustration.


    But the cramps sapped all her strength.


    She let herself melt into the couch, not moving at all.


    She was halfway to sleep, drifting in and out, when the doorbell sounded.


    Dragging herself up, she went to answer it.


    It was a delivery-food from one of her favorite restaurants.


    She frowned at the courier. “I... didn''t order anything."