She was lost and so was he.
Who knew that two broken hearts can connect to one.
Arabella's world has been rigged since the day she was born. Her fate had been decided for her much longer before she even had been conceived in the womb. So it came as...
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The door opens, and the moment my eyes meet his, my throat clogs with tears. He looked so different.
He was always clean-shaven—or at least he used to be. Now, he sports a light stubble. His hair, once neatly slicked back, sticks out in random directions. And his eyes—those eyes that used to be so full of life—now stare back at me, blank and hollow.
The always about him was once upon a time now.
And it was my fault.
"Alejandro," I say shakily, offering a small smile. But he doesn't return it. He just nods in acknowledgment, doesn't even invite me in. I still have a key... but stepping in on my own doesn't feel right anymore.
"Can I come in?"
Another nod. Still no words. He steps aside to let me in, and I walk in slowly, the silence louder than it should be.
I glance left. The side table no longer holds the big vase of flowers. I turn right, toward the living room—no smaller vases of roses. Every trace of the life I once tried to bring into this house with plants and color... gone. It looks like I was never here to begin with.
"I'm sorry. Please don't give me the silent treatment. I can't stand you not talking to me," I murmur. My voice is soft, but in the stillness of the house, it echoes. Still, he says nothing.
"Please, Alec—"
"Alejandro is fine." His voice is rough, clipped, and it makes me flinch. "Why are you really here?"
"Arabella?"
I'm cut off as Lorenzo walks down the stairs, Antonio beside him. Antonio looks exhausted, heavy bags under his eyes. Lorenzo is thinner, pale, like he hasn't eaten properly in days. He looks seconds away from collapsing.
I move instinctively, pressing a hand to his forehead. He tenses under my touch, but my eyes widen in shock.
"Oh my god. You're burning up. Shit. You need to go to the hospital."
I try to pull him along with me, but he peels my hand away, holding his ground.
"What are you doing here?" Even his voice sounds drained, like speaking takes effort.
"Please just go to the hospital," I beg, turning as Xavier and Xander join us downstairs. "And then I'll explain everything. I promise."
"Ara?" Xander's voice is softer, full of surprise.
"Everything alright?" he asks, pushing gently past the others to stand in front of me. His eyes search mine with concern—not anger, not judgment. He doesn't push. He understands.
"No. Lorenzo's sick—he's burning up. Look at him. He'll pass out or worse if we don't get him checked out." I glance around at the others before my gaze lands on Alejandro—the one still looking at me like I'm a stranger. "I don't care how much you hate me right now. But I know you care about Lorenzo. So get him to a doctor. Be mad at me later. Just... don't let your pride kill him."
