Kayla's fingers trembled slightly as Logan guided her inside, the soft glow from the chandelier painting his face in golden light. The night outside was silent, save for the faint hum of the city beyond the tall glass windows.
Neither of them spoke for a while. The air between them carried a fragile warmth — the kind that felt like coming home after a storm.
When they reached the living room, Logan set his keys on the table and turned to her, his voice low.
"I'm so sorry, Kayla. I shouldn't have kept it from you."
Kayla shook her head gently. "It's okay, Logan. I was angry at first because I thought I'd lost you. But then I realized… I couldn't just walk away. I love you too much to give up."
Logan's lips curved into a faint, relieved smile. "I'm so glad you didn't."
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead softly before heading to the kitchen. "Want some water?"
"Yeah," she said with a small laugh. "I've cried so much I think I need to refill my water tank."
Logan turned sharply, frowning. "You cried?"
She nodded with a playful pout. "You made me break my promise."
He stepped closer, his tone tender. "Then make another one."
Kayla tilted her head. "Only if you promise not to make me break it again."
"I won't," he said, his voice deep and sincere. "I promise to always stand by you."
She smiled softly. "And what happens if you don't?"
His lips quirked into a teasing smirk as he leaned closer. "Then you'll have to decide my punishment."
"Maybe something only you'd dare to do," she whispered.
Their eyes met — and in that moment, words became unnecessary. His hand brushed a strand of hair from her face, lingering as though memorizing every detail. Her heartbeat raced, echoing in the stillness of the room.
He leaned in slowly, as if asking permission. She didn't pull away.
Their lips met — soft, uncertain at first, then deeper, desperate, fueled by everything they had tried to suppress for so long.
When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against hers, breath warm and uneven.
"Kayla," he murmured, his voice trembling slightly, "tell me to stop… and I will."
But she didn't.
She couldn't.
Instead, she lifted her face to his again, her whisper barely audible. "Don't stop."
The world seemed to hold its breath.
He kissed her again, slower this time, as though he wanted to memorize the taste of the moment — the feel of her beneath his touch, the sound of her soft sighs.
Logan lifted her gently, setting her on the kitchen counter, their lips never parting. Her hands found their way around his neck, drawing him closer until the space between them vanished completely.
He pulled back slightly, his gaze dark and full of emotion. Without a word, he carried her toward the bedroom.
The air was thick with something unspoken — something raw and real.
He placed her gently on the bed and unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes never leaving hers. His voice was low, almost a whisper.
"It's too late to turn back now."
Kayla reached for his hand, her touch trembling but sure. "I don't want to."
He smiled — that rare, unguarded smile — before lowering his head and kissing her again.
The night wrapped around them, the city lights outside flickering through the window like stars blessing their union.
The rest was silence — the kind only two hearts could
***
Kayla's POV
***
Brooke nearly dropped her phone when I told her why I hadn't come home last night.
"You what?" she gasped, eyes as wide as dinner plates.
I buried my face in my palms. "It just… happened, okay? We didn't plan it."
Brooke's grin stretched from ear to ear. "Oh, please. No one ever plans a night like that. So—was it romantic? Intense? Like those billionaire movies?"
"Brooke!" I swatted her arm, my cheeks burning.
"Tell me everything. In detail," she whined dramatically, shaking my hand like an impatient toddler.
"Why do you need that much information? It's not as if you have a boyfriend," I laughed.
"Ohhh," she gasped. "So this is what we're doing now?"
"Obviously," I smirked.
"It's really nice seeing you happy again, Kayla," Brooke said, her voice softening.
I nodded quietly.
"These past few days, you looked like a forsaken mermaid."
"What does that even mean?" I hit her arm lightly.
"Ow! But I wasn't lying!"
"Enough. I'm visiting my mom after my shift." I sank into the chair behind the counter.
"Are you sure?" she asked, brow raised.
"Brooke…"
"There were several times Logan was the mom you visited," she teased.
I tossed a notebook at her. "Shut up, you crazy girl."
**********************
Hours later, I dropped my backpack beside Mom's bed. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic, and her skin was cold beneath my fingertips. She looked exactly the same—still, quiet, fragile.
"Mum…" I whispered softly, brushing her hair back. "I think your daughter is finally becoming strong."
A warm smile tugged at my lips when Logan's face appeared in my mind.
"I know it won't be easy," I murmured, "but I want to fight for what I want. Remember what you told me? That you regret never fighting for what was yours. I won't repeat that mistake."
My grip tightened around her hand. Suddenly, the life-support machine began beeping wildly.
"Mum?" My voice cracked as panic exploded through me. "Mum!"
I rushed into the hallway, screaming, "Doctor! Please!"
Doctors and nurses stormed in. I stood frozen behind the glass, helpless, shaking as my mother's body trembled beneath their hands.
Minutes felt like hours.
The doctor finally stepped out, calm but serious.
"Kayla," he said gently, "she hasn't woken up yet, but she's stable. We will keep monitoring her. There's a strong chance she may wake soon. Something must have triggered her reaction."
And just like that, he was gone.
Triggered? By what?
Hours later, I sat beside her again, exhaustion weighing on my shoulders. The hallway was quiet, only the lingering beep of machines filling the silence.
"Please just open your eyes," I whispered, voice breaking.
A warm hand settled on my shoulder.
"Kayla."
Logan's voice was low, threaded with concern.
"Logan?" I wiped at my face quickly. "What are you doing here?"
"I went to the store. Brooke told me you were here."
"I'm… okay," I lied, cheeks quivering as I forced a smile.
"You don't have to pretend with me."
That was all it took. I broke. Sobs crashed into his chest, and he held me—firm, steady, safe.
"I can't lose her," I whispered. "She's all I have."
"You won't," he promised. "I'm here."
For a moment, the world grew small. Just his arms. Just his warmth.
Then his phone rang.
He picked up, face shifting instantly—sharp, tense.
"What is it?" I asked.
He didn't answer, only murmured, "I'll be right there," before hanging up.
"I have to go," he said, voice strained. "It's nothing serious. Do you want me to drop you home?"
"I'll stay a little longer."
He nodded, kissed my forehead, and left.
**************************
Later at the music store, Skye drew the bow across her cello strings, each note rich and warm. The final chord echoed beautifully.
"Wow," I clapped, smiling wide. "Your C key is so much better now."
"You think so?" she beamed.
"Absolutely."
But then, she looked at me—really looked. Concern flickered in her eyes.
"Are you okay, Kayla?"
The question startled me. Honestly, I felt light today. Logan promised a movie date later. My heart fluttered.
"I'm fine," I smiled. "Really."
Skye stood and suddenly wrapped her arms around me. "Whatever happens… please be strong."
"Skye?" I whispered, confused. "You're acting weird. What's wrong?"
"N-nothing." She forced a smile, wiping her eyes. "I'll get us ice cream."
She hurried out. I sat, absent-mindedly plucking at the strings. My phone buzzed—Logan.
"Hello, my love." His voice alone made me blush.
"Hi. How are you?"
"I miss you already."
I flushed harder. "I miss you too."
"Where are you?" he asked.
"At the music store."
"With who?" His tone sharpened.
"With a cute guy," I teased. "He bought me ice cream and asked for my TikChat code."
"What?" Jealousy filled his voice instantly. "I'm coming over—"
"Relax!" I burst into laughter. "It's just Skye. I'm teaching her notes."
I heard him exhale, tension easing. "I almost canceled a meeting. Don't joke like that."
"I guess my boyfriend is jealous," I teased softly.
"Yes, I am," he chuckled. "Meeting's starting. See you later. I love you."
"I love you too."
The call ended—and footsteps echoed toward me.
"You're back early. Long queue?" I asked without looking up.
Silence.
Something inside me tensed. I turned.
Vienna stood there, heels clicking, eyes cold.
"So this is where you hide," she sneered. "I finally get to meet the reason Logan ignores me."
"What do you want?" The courage surprised me.
"I want you to stay away from my fiancé. Aren't you ashamed?"
I lifted my chin. "Aren't you the one forcing yourself on him? He chose me. Know your place."
Vienna's eyes burned with rage.
"Do you know who I am?"
"Vienna Marlowe," I replied flatly. "Nothing special."
"You—" she hissed. "Get her."
Three men in black suits rushed me. I fought, but they were stronger. Hands locked around my arms. A burning slap cracked across my cheek, and I gasped, collapsing. Pain flared as they prepared to kick me—
The door slammed open.
"Don't you dare touch her!" a voice roared.
Skye.
The men froze instantly, stepping back on command. Skye dropped the ice cream and ran to me, supporting my waist. Pain shot up my side.
Vienna's face twisted. "You're supposed to be at your business lessons. What are you doing here?"
Business… lessons?
Why was she speaking to Skye like that?
"You've gone too far," Skye snapped. "It's not her fault he doesn't love you."
Vienna ran a hand through her hair, exasperated.
"This b*tch," she spat. "You stole my Logan and managed to turn my sister against me!"
My world crashed.
My breath vanished.
"Skye… is Vienna's sister?" I whispered.
I looked up. Skye's eyes were glossy—guilty.
"Kayla…" she whispered, reaching for me.
I flinched away.