Page 35 of Fallen Heir
Then go home and fall apart in peace.
The moment I stepped into the office, I realized my plan was ruined. Something was off. Voices carried down the hall—low, heated.
When I rounded the corner into my office, they were both there. Millie. Jaxson.
She stood with her hands planted firmly on her hips, eyes narrowed like she was about to bite his head clean off. He looked… wrecked. Disheveled. Unshaved. Like sleep hadn’t found him in days. Not his usual cool, polished self. A mirrored version of how I feel.
And God help me, despite everything—despite the fog still clinging to my chest and the nausea curling in my stomach—I felt it. Heat. Some traitorous bloom of warmth that flared up at just the sight of him.
They didn’t see me at first.
“I didn’t do anything to her,” Jaxson said, voice rough. “Millie, I swear to you—she was fine. We had the best night. And then she had to leave.”
“And you didn’t go with her?” Millie snapped. “She didn’t answer me all day. You expect me to believe you had nothing to do with that?”
“Said she wasn’t feeling well.”
“Then why didn’t you check on her?”
“I did! I texted her yesterday morning and never heard back.”
Millie’s jaw clenched, but something in her eyes flickered. Like maybe—for just a second—she saw it. Despite looking like she could destroy Jaxson for simply breathing, she knew he was keeping something. Not to protect himself, but to protect me. He knew something was wrong. And he hadn’t told her.
And in that moment, hearing them both—hearing how they cared, even in frustration—I felt it. The weight of being seen.
That was my cue. I cleared my throat and stepped inside. Both their heads whipped toward me. I held up my shattered phone and gave a weak smile.
“Umm… sorry, y’all. Phone’s busted.”
Both of them visibly relaxed at the sight of me. Millie let out a breath like she’d been holding it for hours, then rushed forward and threw her arms around me. The hug was warm. Fierce. And it nearly knocked the wind out of me.
I winced—just barely—but enough to feel the dull throb beneath my ribs. Still tender. Months later, and the bruises were gone, but the damage had a way of lingering.
“Oh God—sorry,” Millie said, pulling back immediately. “I just—damn it, Savannah. I was worried.”
Behind her, Jaxson looked like I’d just given him back five years of his life. Color returned to his face. His shoulders lowered an inch. He looked like he could breathe again.
“Jesus, Savannah,” he muttered. “Can’t you at least send an email next time?”
I held up the broken phone a little higher. “I would’ve, if I knew I’d missed anything.”
His brows knitted together, but he didn’t push.
Millie, on the other hand, stepped back with narrowed eyes. “So why didn’t you go get a new one yesterday?“
I hesitated just long enough to pull the lie together. “I still wasn’t feeling well yesterday,” I said carefully. “I thought a little rest would help. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”
Then I turned to Jaxson. “I’m sorry I left the way I did,” I added, voice quieter now. “That wasn’t fair. Especially not after everything. The event was lovely, thank you again.”
His eyes searched mine for a long beat. But he didn’t say a word.
Millie turned to me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’ll grab lunch later and get you a new phone. I want the full rundown on this gala you abandoned me for.” I hadn’t abandoned her for anything. She was out of town and probably the only reason she wasn’t at my door demanding answers yesterday.
She didn’t so much as glance at Jaxson as she slipped past him and out the door, heels clicking sharply against the floor. The second it shut behind her, the air changed.
I was alone. With him.
Jaxson didn’t move from where he stood, arms crossed, jaw tight. His eyes hadn’t left me since I walked in. I tried not to fidget under the weight of his stare. Tried not to let my fingers curl too tightly around the broken phone in my hand. But the silence was deafening.
