“Are you alright?” His voice was muffled by door and down feathers.

I tossed the pillow aside and grabbed my dressing gown from my bedpost to cover my state of half-dress. Victor waited outside the door, holding a tray with a breakfast waffle and painkillers.

Still being considerate after I had been the most inconsiderate mess last night.

“You didn’t have to bring that upstairs,” I croaked and opened the door a little wider.

His eyes roamed over my body and I tugged on the ends of my belt, just to double-check the robe was closed tight. He wordlessly placed the tray on my vanity table, his eyes never leaving me. I knew what he was doing. He always scanned me head-to-toe like I was hiding injuries from him. But for once, that felt like too much attention, when I just wanted to crawl back under the covers.

“When did you get home last night?” I asked, the question over my lips before I thought it through.

His brows jumped up as if to say'Is that how you want to play it?’

We stared at each other for a long moment before I finally lifted my shoulders, too much of a chicken to speak.

“Around eleven,” he said.

“Is everything… did you… good night?” Queen of word vomit. Right here.Hand me a crown and call me Your Majesty.I wasn’t even sure what I was asking. I’d messed up so much.

After that dumb call with Amani, I hadn’t even been able to look at Victor, too scared of seeing a spring in his step or a loveydovey smile on his lips. And when he’d told me he’d be out all night, I had been too scared to ask. What if he had a date? What if, through some weird roundabout way, he and Amani had actually connected and had scheduled a Facetime date? I couldn’t actually picture Victor on a Facetime date, but my brain had convinced me that he was pulling away for someone else. And then he hadphysicallypulled away when I’d thrown myself at him.

“Cordelia?”

“Hmm? Sorry.” I blinked and shook my head. Last night’s alcohol didn’t help with the racing thoughts.

“I said, it will be alright.”

“Alright?” My chest expanded a little more in the hope that he was saying what Ithoughthe was saying, but I couldn’t force a smile.

“Alright,” Victor confirmed.

Despite that reassurance, I was as good as useless that day. I tried to distract myself by researching photographers in Boston who could handle discreet jobs. Which led down a rabbit hole of boudoir photography, then maternity photo shoots, and finally wedding pictures - at which point I shut my computer down because there was too much kissing on my screen.

I spent about an hour staring out my office window, because I couldn’t bring myself to leave the room. Victor was out there. As long as my office door remained shut, he stayed outside. At least Fitzwilliam was still glued to my side, curling up in my lap while I counted the steps outside every town house I could see from here. It wasn’t a good distraction, but it kept me busy until a familiar car pulled up on the street.

I shot out of my chair and waited behind my office door until I heard her shuffling inside.

Once I was sure Del was within reach, I yanked the office door open. She jumped and stared at me with wide eyes. “What the hell?”

I just grabbed her and pulled her inside. Fast enough for her bag to drop to the floor.

“Sorry,” I hissed and shut the door, flattening my back against it just to be safe.

“What’s happening?” Del blinked, turning in a circle, eyes roaming over the room like an actual threat might jump out from the shadows. She was short and dainty, but she’d been going to the gym more, and her stance looked somewhat ready to kick a wannabe-intruder’s ass. Or at least try.

“Sorry,” I said again, “but I had to catch you. I need to talk to someone.”

“Oh. I’m not staying. I didn’t even properly park the car. I’m just grabbing some clothes.”

Right. I inhaled, and mentally recounted everything that had been going on for her. Engagement trip to London, followed by taking care of a sick teenager. “How is Brody?”

“Better, but not by much. My last pair of clean pants was in the projectile vomit zone, so…” She gestured vaguely at her legs, covered by a pair of very loose, very green training pants that bunched around her ankles. Probably Brody’s if I had to guess. She also wore a wrinkled T-shirt and had fumbled her warmblonde hair into a stubby ponytail. She really didn’t look like she meant to leave the house today.

I had to be an even bigger mess than I’d thought, because I egotistically asked: “Do you have like five minutes?”

My face must have betrayed me, because Del’s brows furrowed and she sank into one of the armchairs by the window. Fitzwilliam hissed at her for coming too close to his windowsill spot, but she just crinkled her nose at her cat before turning back to me. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything.” My knees suddenly felt too spongy to support my weight, my spine too brittle to keep me upright, and I let myself slide down against the door. “I kissed Victor.”