Seraphim's POV
I woke up before the sun fully set in the sky, the soft blue glow slipping into Nana's room through the thin curtains. Natasha was still asleep beside me, sprawled out on her back, her arm thrown over her forehead like she had been fighting dreams all night.
For a moment, I just stared at her at the calmness on her face, the little twitch in her brow, the faint movement of her chest. Peace. Actual peace. The kind I had forgotten existed.
A small smile came at my lips before I carefully slid off the bed, not wanting to wake her. I paused at the door and looked at her one last time. She looked so warm. So familiar. So safe.
I forced myself to leave.
Downstairs, Nurse Riley was already wiping down the counter. She turned at the sound of my steps.
"You're up early," she said.
"I should get home," I replied, trying not to look like I was running from my own thoughts. "But I wanted to say goodbye."
She smiled and hugged me. "Come back soon. And bring that friend of yours again, she made your grandmother laugh more than I've seen in months."
I laughed softly. "She's… something else."
Nana was half awake when I leaned in to kiss her forehead.
"I'll see you soon, Nana," I whispered.
Her fingers brushed mine weakly before she drifted back to sleep.
That tiny touch clung to me the whole drive home.
The villa was quiet when I pushed open the front door, too quiet for morning. But as I stepped inside, I instantly understood why.
Grey's mother was seated at the dining table, straight backed, perfectly poised, both hands wrapped around a teacup like she'd been waiting.
Her eyes widened slightly when she saw me.
"Seraphim?" Her tone was surprise controlled, but obvious. "I thought you came home yesterday."
I swallowed, keeping my smile soft and natural. "Ah… no. I ended up staying at a friend's house."
She blinked once. Twice. Then nodded slowly.
No further questions, which were somehow worse than interrogation.
Before I could sit, footsteps approached from the hallway. Grey appeared, dressed neatly, hair slightly messy like he'd just woken up. His expression shifted when he saw me first confusion, then understanding, then the mask he always wore around his mother.
I walked toward him like a woman returning to her lover after a long night apart. My fingers brushed his arm, I rose on my toes, and placed a small peck on his cheek.
He didn't hesitate. He gave me one too.
Soft. Smooth. Convincing.
A perfect lie.
"Morning," I whispered.
"Morning," he replied, playing his role with flawless ease.
If only everything between us were as easy as pretending.
"I'll be right back," I said sweetly. "Just need to freshen up."
Grey nodded, and I excused myself, heading upstairs.
The moment I stepped into our room and closed the bathroom door behind me, my breath hitched. Natasha,
The memory crashed into me without warning her taking off her jacket, that white singlet hugging her body, her sleepy eyes, her soft laugh, the warmth of her skin next to mine all night.
God.
I pressed both hands to the counter, staring at myself in the fogged mirror as if I could talk sense into my soul.
Then it hit me again — the image, the warmth, the pull.
A soft, involuntary sound slipped from my throat.
I licked my lower lip slowly… then my upper.
My knees almost weakened.
"Damn," I whispered, pushing my wavy hair back with one hand. "This is bad… this is really bad."
First Grey. Now Natasha.
What was wrong with me?
I splashed cold water on my face, trying to snap out of it. But the flutter in my stomach refused to disappear.
I composed myself and walked back downstairs. Grey and his mother were already seated, the air thick with polite silence.
I took my place beside Grey.
We ate quietly, until his mother cleared her throat delicately.
"I wanted to inform you both that there will be a family function this coming Saturday," she said. "A small gathering. You should be prepared."
My fork paused mid-air.
A family function meant questions.
Eyes.
People examining our "marriage."
People looking for cracks.
I forced a smile. "Of course, ma'am."
Grey barely reacted, but I could feel the tension ripple through him.
GREY'S POV
The moment my mother mentioned the family function, the entire table fell into that uncomfortable silence that felt too awkward, the clinking of cutlery stopped, Seraphim kept eating quietly beside me, pretending not to feel the tension, but it sat in the room like a heavy fog.
My mind drifted unhelpfully to places, I certainly miss most of the things I have before getting into this mess
When was the last time I even touched Lucy?
The thought came uninvited, sharp, irritating.
Two weeks? Three?
Everything had become too loud, too noticeable. Mother's sudden interest in our marriage. Lucy's impatience. Seraphim's distance. My own carelessness.
I hated how exposed the silence made us all feel like if anyone looked too closely, they would find the cracks we were all trying to plaster over.
Just as the air grew tighter, Mother broke it.
"I'll be returning tomorrow morning," she announced, adjusting her napkin like she hadn't just lifted a weight off both our necks.
I looked toward Seraphim at the exact moment she looked at me.
It wasn't a smile… not really. It was more like shared relief disguised as politeness just enough that Mother wouldn't catch it.
But it was still a strange, fleeting moment of agreement between us.
Like, for once, we were standing on the same side of something.
Maybe she brought good fortune with her from that grandmother of hers.
Or maybe we were simply tired of pretending separately.
For the first time in a while, it felt like we were pretending together, like we finally understood each other, even if it was for a moment.