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The apartment was finally quiet.
Lola sat on the floor in front of the fireplace, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. The twinkling fairy lights Elowen had put up earlier were still glowing softly, casting dim shadows across the room. Empty wine bottles and half-filled glasses littered the coffee table, remnants of a party that felt like it had happened in another lifetime. But the noise, the laughter, and the buzz of so many people had evaporated. Now, all that remained was silence. The kind of silence that pressed in on her, heavy and suffocating.
Alex sat beside her, his knees drawn up, elbows resting on them as he stared into the empty fireplace. His expression was hard to read, a mixture of tension and something else she couldn't place. He hadn't spoken much since the others had left. Miles and Elowen had slipped out just after midnight, with Elowen giving Lola a look that said everything she hadn't dared to say aloud —a silent good luck, like she knew this was going to be the conversation Lola had been dreading.
She wasn't sure if she'd ever be ready.
The room felt colder with just the two of them in it, like the air had shifted somehow, and even though Alex was sitting right beside her, he felt miles away. The warmth of the fire they hadn't bothered to light hung between them like a metaphor they couldn't quite escape.
She glanced at him, her heart aching at the sight of his profile, familiar and distant at the same time. His brow was furrowed, his jaw clenched as if he were battling some internal war. Maybe he was. Lola didn't know anymore.
"You've been quiet," she said softly, breaking the silence. Her voice sounded small, even to her own ears.
Alex glanced at her, his dark eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he looked away again. He let out a long breath, running a hand through his dark hair, which was beginning to fall loosely out of its style. "Yeah."
That was all he said.
Lola's eyes traced the lines of his face, searching for something—anything—that might reassure her, but all she saw was the distance growing between them. She had been holding onto hope all night, telling herself that Alex was just overwhelmed, that once they had a moment alone, they could fix whatever had gone wrong. But now, sitting here beside him, the weight of everything that had been left unsaid crushed her.
"Why didn't you call?" she asked quietly, staring at her hands. "After the tabloids... after everything?"
Alex didn't answer right away, although he gave a movement of his head to show that he had heard her. His fingers fidgeted with the label of a beer bottle that had been left by the fireplace, peeling at the edges like he needed something to keep his hands busy. "I didn't know what to say," he admitted, his voice rough around the edges. "I didn't want to make it worse."
