I woke to unfamiliar ceiling lights.
My cheek throbbed with a hot, sharp ache.
The memory crashed back. Miles’ hand. The slap. The auditorium floor.
I was in Noah’s bedroom.
The sheets smelled like cedar and soap, nothing like the scent I’d shared
with Miles for five years.
My body felt heavy, like I’d been beaten with more than just a hand.
Every muscle ached with exhaustion.
The door creaked open.
Noah entered with a tray, his eyes immediately finding mine.
“You’re awake.” He set down the tray and sat beside me.
His fingers gently touched the swollen side of my face.
“This needs more ice.”
I flinched at his touch, then felt stupid for it.
Noah’s jaw tightened, but his voice stayed soft.
“He will never touch you again.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a promise.
I tried to sit up. The room spun.
“Take it slow.” He supported my back with his hand.
His palm was warm against my spine. Stable.
Not like Miles’ grip, which always felt like control wearing a mask of
affection.
Noah handed me a glass of water.
My hands trembled so badly I nearly spilled it.
He steadied the glass, guiding it to my lips.
“Drink.”
The water was cool. It helped the tightness in my throat.
My phone buzzed from the nightstand.
Noah’s eyes darkened.
“It’s been ringing every ten minutes.”
I didn’t need to look. I understood.
“He says if you don’t come home now, you’ll regret it.”
Home. That word didn’t mean what it used to.
“He says you’re being childish. That you’re embarrassing yourself.”
Noah’s voice was level, but I heard the anger underneath.
I picked up the phone.
Seven missed calls. Fourteen text messages.
All from Miles.
The most recent one glowed on the screen: “You’re testing my patience,
Bianca. Get back here.”
I turned the phone over, face down on the blanket.
“He thinks he owns you,” Noah said quietly.
“He’s used to it.”
I hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
The admission made my stomach clench.
Noah took the phone from
my
hand.
“You need rest, not threats.”
He stood and walked to the window.
The afternoon light cut across his face, showing the strain around his
He’d been watching over me.
For how long?
Suddenly, shouting echoed from the street below.
I recognized that voice, even muffled by glass.
Eva.
Noah pulled back the curtain.
A small crowd had gathered outside his building.
Eva stood in the center, her hands cupped around her mouth.
“Bianca!” she screamed. “I know you’re up there!”
My blood turned cold.
Noah’s hand found mine.
“Stay here.”
But I was already moving to the window.
Eva looked up, her eyes scanning the building.
When she spotted movement at our window, she pointed.
“Homewrecker!” she yelled.
The crowd turned, murmuring.
“She’s trying to steal my life!” Eva’s voice broke with practiced sobs.
“She thinks she can just take everything I worked for!”
The words hit me like physical blows.
My breath came faster.
Noah tried to pull me back.
“Don’t listen to her.”
eyes.
But I couldn’t stop hearing Miles’ voice in my head, overlapping with hers.
Childish. Embarrassing. Selfish.
My chest constricted.
The room tilted.
I grabbed the windowsill, but my fingers couldn’t seem to hold on.
Noah caught me as my knees buckled.
“Bianca?”
I couldn’t answer.
Air. I needed air.
But my lungs wouldn’t cooperate.
They seized up, refusing to take in more than tiny sips.
My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat painful and wrong.
Noah lowered me to the floor.
His voice came from far away.
“Breathe with me.”
He placed my hand on his chest.
“Feel this. In. Out.”
The steady rise and fall beneath my palm was the only solid thing in my
spinning world.
“In. Out.”
I tried to match it.
My vision blurred with tears I wouldn’t let fall.
Not for them.
Not anymore.
Noah’s hand covered mine, pressing it against his heartbeat.
“You’re safe here.”
Safe. The word felt foreign.
Tears streamed down my face now, hot and uncontrollable.
Noah didn’t tell me to stop crying.
He didn’t tell me I was being dramatic.
He just held me, his chest solid beneath my hand, his breathing guiding
mine.
My phone buzzed again on the nightstand.
Neither of us moved to check it.
After several minutes, my breathing steadied.
The panic receded, leaving only exhaustion.
Noah helped me back to the bed.
He tucked the blanket around me with the same care he’d shown when
treating my injuries.
The doorbell rang.
Not the building’s intercom. The actual door to his apartment.
Eva’s voice, closer now, filtered through the wood.
“I know you’re in there, you homewrecking bitch!”
Her fist pounded against the door.
“You think you can just steal everything I worked for?”
The sound echoed through the apartment.
Noah stood between me and the door, his shoulders set.
He looked back at me, his expression softening.
“Stay here.”
I nodded, pulling the blanket tighter.
Outside, Eva’s voice rose higher.
“Open this door, Bianca!”
“You’re not taking him from me!”
The pounding continued, rhythmic and desperate.
Each impact felt like it was hitting my ribs instead of the door.
Noah walked toward the entrance, his steps calm.
He placed his hand on the doorknob.
“Bianca.”
I looked at him.
“This ends today.”
He turned the lock.
Eva’s screaming flooded the apartment.
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