Page 123 of Bitter Truths

“We should talk,” I say, because someone has to acknowledge what happened. What it means. What comes next.

“Should we?” Tristan’s mouth finds the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, pressing a soft kiss there that makes me shiver. “I was thinking we should stay right here forever.”

“You know we can’t.”

The air shifts with tension.

Weller’s sitting in the chair by the window, fully dressed, but his posture sets off alarm bells in my head. He looks like he’s been up for hours, and his expression is grim.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him, the dreamy contentment starting to fade.

“Whitney moved her flight. She will be back tonight instead of tomorrow.”

The words are like ice water, stealing every trace of warmth and happiness.

I sit up, wide awake. “Tonight?”

“Red eye.”

“Fuck,” Owen breathes, his arm tightening around me.

The silence that follows is deafening.

“Do you have to go back?”

“If we’re not there when she gets home...” He doesn’t finish the sentence. Just stares at the wall like he wants to punch through it.

Whatever it is, it won’t be good. I can see that in their haunted expressions.

Fuck her.

Fuck this.

“How long do we have?” I say, the sound distant.

“We have to prepare,” Weller straightens his cuffs, avoiding my eyes. “Our first meeting will begin soon.”

“Will I see you before...?”

He hesitates, then meets my eyes.

“We’ll try, Bianca,” he says, his voice softer than usual. “We want to. It depends on how long everything takes today. There are several presentations we’re required to attend.”

I can hear the regret in his voice.

And just like that, the spell is broken. The perfection of waking up surrounded by them this morning dissolves into our harsh reality, leaving me feeling like a fucking fool.

I slip out of bed, peel the shirt off, and grab the dress I wore last night from the dresser, pulling it over my head like I’m on autopilot.

“So this is it,” I say. It’s not a question.

“Just for now.” Freddie tries to sound reassuring, but I don’t buy it. “We need to evaluate the situation first. See what she suspects. Then we’ll have a better idea of what to do.”

I walk out to the main area of the suite. They follow without a word.

“And what? You’ll send me coded messages through a burner phone?” The bitterness in my voice surprises even me. “Send a message by fucking pigeon?”

They exchange glances. Those silent conversations that used to fascinate me when we were younger… now they just piss me off.