Strangers To Lovers

Chapter Twenty-One

A few weeks had passed since the accident, and I still hadn’t returned to work. My boss had called me, asking, "When are you planning on coming back?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that told me I was pushing the boundaries of his patience. I stared at my phone as if it held the answers I was avoiding.

"I don’t know yet," I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral.

"You’re sure you’re Ella?" he asked with a light chuckle, but I could sense the impatience behind it.

"Yeah, pretty sure," I muttered, not even caring to entertain him.

Truth was, I wasn’t planning on going back to that life. After everything that happened with my brother, my job felt irrelevant. Luke had given me some money to help, but I wasn’t about to become dependent on him. The last thing I wanted was to owe anyone anything, especially Luke. Still, the thought of living under his roof indefinitely while my life crumbled around me made my chest tighten. I wasn’t sure where to go next.

The rain outside Luke’s house beat relentlessly against the window, casting a gloomy haze over the room. My car was still out of commission, parked out front like a reminder of everything I’d messed up. I knew I had to figure things out with my brother’s case—legal fees weren’t cheap, and I needed a lawyer, fast. But the weight of it all made my limbs heavy, like I was sinking into quicksand.

As I sat there staring into the downpour, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I glanced at it, expecting another message from Donna or maybe even Channing with some work-related update. But instead, it was a message from Luke.

"Staying late at work. Don’t wait up."

I frowned, reading the text over and over. It was so detached. Cold, even. I hadn’t seen him much these past few days. He was always busy, running to meetings or whatever "urgent" things his mother had set up for him. It was like we’d reverted to strangers again. Like we were back to being two people pretending we had any connection beyond a contract.

But, deep down, I knew better. I knew there was more between us, but it was tangled up in a web of complications neither of us had the guts to face. And tonight, as I sat in his empty house, that weight pressed down harder than ever.

Later that night, I was in the middle of serving a large group at the restaurant when I felt a hand on my elbow, pulling me aside. I turned to see Dylan, his expression tense as he led me toward the restrooms, out of sight from the dining area. His grip was firm but not painful, more like a warning.

"Dylan, what—"

"Don’t go over to Luke’s table," he said in a low voice, cutting me off before I could finish.

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. "What? Why?"

His eyes flicked toward the dining room, and I followed his gaze, my stomach lurching when I spotted Luke sitting with a woman. A stunning brunette in a red dress, the kind of woman who looked like she belonged on a magazine cover. She had that effortless beauty, with long, perfectly styled hair and a sharp smile that could cut glass. She was everything I wasn’t.

"He’s on a date," Dylan explained, his voice tight. "A blind date his mother set up."

I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. A blind date? Why did that sting so much? Luke and I weren’t anything. We had an arrangement, a contract. He wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t his. But that didn’t stop the sharp pang of jealousy from stabbing deep in my chest.

"Okay," I muttered, my voice quieter than I intended. "Thanks for letting me know."

Dylan’s grip on my arm loosened, but he didn’t step back. "I thought you’d want to know. His mother’s here too, and trust me, you don’t want to get caught in that mess."