Chapter 53: I'm just worried
The amber liquid in Kylie's glass swirled quietly as he leaned against the kitchen island, his eyes fixed on his wife. The late afternoon sun filtered through the high windows of their city apartment, casting long, pale shadows across the polished stone countertop. Jackie stood by the sink, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, staring blankly out at the sprawling skyline while the quiet hum of the refrigerator filled the heavy silence between them.
“Did she tell you what happened?” Kylie asked softly, his voice low, breaking the stillness.
Jackie shook her head, a slow, deliberate motion. She didn't look back at him, her gaze remaining fixed on the distant buildings outside. “No.”
Kylie set his glass down on the counter with a muted thud, the dark wood catching the echo of the crystal base. The worry etched into Jackie’s face was unmistakable, drawn deep around her eyes and tense along the line of her jaw.
She let out a long sigh. That morning's panicked call from her best friend had sent Jackie tearing out of the apartment, driving like mad through the early hours to reach the manor estate. In all the years they had known her, Holland had never sounded like that—never scared, never broken, never stripped of her control and sounding at the brink of everything. But after picking her up at the grand entrance of the estate, Jackie had watched her best friend shut down completely.
Holland stared out the passenger window for the entire drive back to the city, her face pale, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as if holding herself together by sheer willpower. An agonizing, unbroken silence filled the car, suffocating every mile between them.
In that quiet though, it had been impossible for Jackie to ignore the fresh, dark marks marring her friend’s neck and the curve of her collarbone. Holland had seemed entirely oblivious to them, her mind trapped miles away, but Jackie knew exactly what they were. Hickeys. The faint bruising was clear testament to the consuming encounter her best friend was frantically escaping from.
Jackie's mind tracked straight back to the frantic confession Holland had dropped weeks ago over half-empty wine glasses, flushed cheeks, and the evasive eyes. She could remember the breathless admission, as Holland revealed that she’d kissed her new secretary twice. Then, Holland had refused to drop a name, shielding the woman's identity behind deflective laughs and sudden subject changes. But tracing the line of those fresh marks on her best friend's collarbone now, the connection clicked into place with absolute certainty. The woman hadn't just stayed a fleeting mistake. She was the one who had thoroughly unraveled Holland. She had to be.
Holland had finally slipped and let herself live, letting go of that rigid armor to actually feel something real. Seeing that breakthrough filled Jackie with a quiet, undeniable joy for her best friend, even under the shadow of Holland’s visible terror.
And now, Holland lay locked inside their spare guest bedroom. She hadn't emerged once since arriving hours ago. The only signs of life had been the distant hum of the shower running for a long, uninterrupted stretch, followed by the soft creak of the mattress springs.
Whoever this secretary was, she had rattled her unflappable, iron-willed best friend to the core. Holland had met her match eventually. And Jackie knew for sure that Oliver's hold on her best friend was completely broken. Oliver had never rattled Holland this hard. He never had, and he never would. Whoever this woman was that Holland had confessed to kissing, the one she had now surrendered to at Lysmere Manor, Jackie swore to herself that she was going to meet her, come rain or sunshine.
“Did something bad happen?” Kylie murmured, his brow furrowing as he leaned closer to the island. He watched his wife, waiting for a reaction, but got none; she seemed just as lost in her own heavy thoughts as he was.
The question drew Jackie from her thoughts. She blinked, finally turning to face him, and simply shook her head again.
“She’ll be fine,” Jackie answered, her voice soft but firm, trying to convince herself as much as him. “Let’s let her rest first. We both know her, right?”
Kylie let out a small, breathless laugh, though there was no humor in it. They did both know Holland. Trying to push her for answers when she was like this, asking questions and expecting the truth, would be like trying to milk a stone. When Holland withdrew, she built an absolute fortress.
The doorbell chimed, the chime ringing out through the long hallway and vibrating off the hard surfaces of the open apartment.
The sound pulled both of them upright instantly. Their eyes snapped toward the archway leading to the front door, the vibration slicing directly through the heavy stillness hanging over the kitchen.
“I’ll go see who it is,” Jackie said, her fingers releasing her wine glass onto the stone counter with a hard, quick clatter before she turned and headed down the hallway toward the door.
Kylie nodded, lifting his own glass to take another slow sip. He leaned forward against the polished island, his gaze lingering on the empty hallway as his mind drifted back to the quiet woman locked away behind the guest room door. What kind of force could have possibly broken her defenses?
“She’s not here!”
Jackie’s voice slammed through the apartment, loud, ringing, and absolute, carrying a cold wall of resistance that echoed off the high ceilings.
“Why are you hiding her from me!” Oliver's voice rose right on top of hers, thick with demanding entitlement. “Holland’s my wife! I want to see her!"
“Oliver, please leave...”
“No!”
Kylie pushed off the island, his body moving before his mind finished processing the intrusion. His teeth ground together as the hot flare of irritation hit his chest. Oliver's constant, loud self-importance was a familiar weapon, the kind of blunt force he used whenever control slipped out of his fingers. Kylie knew that exact pattern, and he knew precisely how to shut it down.
His heavy footfalls carried him down the hallway, the polished floorboards catching the weight of his stride until he reached the open front entrance. Jackie stood planted directly in the center of the doorway, her shoulder braced against the frame to block the gap. Outside in the carpeted corridor, Oliver stood with his suit jacket hanging loose, his tie pulled down from his collar, his eyes wide and bloodshot as he tried to strain past her shoulder.
“She... she had a business trip yesterday and she didn’t come home! She isn't picking my calls, Jackie, not a single one! I'm just worried!” Oliver barked, his arms cutting through the air, his boots sliding against the door mat as he tried to force a foot across the threshold. “And I know you know where she is!”
“Oliver, leave.”
Kylie stepped into the gap, his shoulder brushing past Jackie to shut down the doorway entirely. He planted himself squarely on the frame, his shoulders blocking out the corridor light, looking down at Oliver with eyes stripped of all warmth.
Oliver caught his breath, his heels digging into the hallway runner as he recoiled from the sudden barrier. His chest heaved beneath his unbuttoned shirt, his knuckles whitening as he grabbed the edge of the door casing, his eyes burning with frantic demand.
“Get out of my way, Kylie! She’s in there, isn’t she? Are you two hiding her again? I have a right to talk to my wife!”
“Holland is a grown woman and allowed to go wherever she damn well pleases,” Kylie said, his pitch dropping into a low, chest-heavy rumble that vibrated through the narrow entryway. “She isn't your property, Oliver. And right now, she doesn't want to see you. So you’re going to turn around, walk down that hallway, and get the hell out of my building before I physically throw you down those stairs.”