Lyra woke up to giggles from upstairs. Still half-asleep, she wandered out and spotted Joel and Renee messing around with flowers. They stood way too close, Joel showing her how to trim the stems like it was some big romantic moment.
For a second, Lyra just stood there, frozen. Back when Joel was stuck at home, she’d taught him how to arrange flowers to keep him from losing his mind. He picked it up like a pro—never needed a second lesson.
Every morning after that, he’d order fresh flowers and leave a bouquet on her nightstand. But ever since Renee waltzed back, that little tradition died.
Lyra dropped her gaze, swallowing the knot in her throat.
She ignored them, just trying to get some breakfast.
Didn’t even make it halfway before—
Bam!
A heavy vase smashed into her, knocking her flat. Pain ripped through her skull, warm blood dripping down as she curled up on the floor.
Through the haze, Lyra saw Renee gliding down the stairs, all smiles.
“Oh no, Lyra!” Renee gasped, eyes wide with fake concern. “I just wanted to show you the flowers I arranged, but my hand slipped and the vase hit your head.
“You’re bleeding so much—it’s super scary! Should I call an ambulance? I’m just so shaken, I can’t even pick up my phone.
“You’re not mad at me, right? Just hold on a little longer…”
Before Renee could finish her little performance, Lyra blacked out from the pain.
A housekeeper eventually found her and freaked out, rushing her to the hospital.
When Lyra came to, it was already noon. Her head throbbed, and she reached up to feel the rough stitches—thirty of them. The doctor said she had a mild concussion and temporary blindness in her right eye. Great.
Joel stood by the bed, leaning in to see if she was in pain, helping her sit up and sip some water. His touch was gentle, but his words cut deep.
“Renee feels awful,” he said, like that was supposed to fix it. “She almost fainted from guilt earlier.
“When the housekeeper brought you here, some gossip reporter snapped a pic, and now the media’s all over it.
“Just say you fell and hit your head, okay? That way, her family will owe you. You know, Renee’s Vesper—the one who saved my life back then…”
Lyra turned away, yanking the blanket over her head. Whether it was the pain or the heartbreak, her eyes stung as she curled up, holding back tears.
She couldn’t help but remember how Joel used to be—the guy who freaked out over her low fevers and kept three private doctors on call. When cramps hit during her period, he’d spoil her all day, making sure she stayed in bed and ate properly.
But now… that guy was gone.
Joel heard her quiet sobs and hesitated, guilt gnawing at him. Just as he reached out, a nurse burst in.
“Mr. Fenwick, the young lady who came with you this morning just fainted from crying. Do you want to check on her?”
