~ 50 ~

~ 50 ~
LILA

The morning sunlight bled softly through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the guest room walls. I blinked against the light, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar ceiling above me. For a fleeting second, I forgot where I was—forgot the chaos of yesterday, the break-in, the weight of it all.

But then it hit me.

The smell of lavender lingering in the air. The faint hum of distant city sounds outside the window. The subtle ache in my chest that hadn’t quite eased since yesterday. It all came back in one heavy wave, pulling me fully into consciousness.

I sat up slowly, letting my legs hang over the edge of the bed. My eyes landed on the suitcase in the corner, and I rose to get ready. The routine helped—washing up, brushing out the tangles in my hair, slipping into a clean blouse and slacks. It made me feel normal again, even if just for a moment.

When I finally opened the door, I froze.

Lucas stood just outside, one hand raised like he’d been about to knock. His shirt was only half-buttoned, revealing the hard lines of his chest, and his tie hung loosely over his shoulder, like he hadn’t decided whether to wear it or toss it aside.

“Morning,” he said, voice low and calm. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t,” I managed, brushing my hair back with my fingers. “I… I didn’t expect you there.”

“I figured you’d be up early. Thought I’d see if you’d join me for breakfast.”

I hesitated—only for a second—then nodded. “Sure.”

He stepped aside, letting me pass as we walked down the hallway toward the dining area. The table was already set, complete with two plates of scrambled eggs, toast, and cut fruit. A pot of coffee steamed between us, and two mugs sat waiting. It felt too thoughtful for someone who insisted he didn’t overthink things.

I glanced at the wall clock. 7:15.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. That was usually the exact time I opened my eyes. Not prepared, not dressed—just barely beginning my day. And here I was, sitting at a table I never imagined myself at, in a penthouse that belonged to a man I once loved and still wasn’t sure how to stop needing.

We ate mostly in silence. The occasional scrape of silverware against plates, the clink of glass, the soft rustle of fabric as one of us shifted in our seat. But the silence wasn’t cold. It was thoughtful. Quietly respectful.

When I finished, I pushed my plate slightly forward and offered a small smile. “Thank you. For everything. Really.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Lila.”

“I do,” I said softly. “At least let me do the dishes. It’s the least I can offer.”

His mouth twitched, just a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Alright. But just this once.”

As I stood and reached for the plates, he turned and disappeared down the hallway, returning a few seconds later. He held out a small silver key, pressing it gently into my palm.

“You’ll be around for a while. You should have access,” he said.

I stared at the key, feeling the cold weight of it against my skin. “Lucas…”

“No strings. Just safety.”

I nodded, unable to find the right words, and tucked it carefully into the side pocket of my bag.

As we moved toward the door, he reached for his car keys, but I stopped him.

“Don’t,” I said quickly. “Don’t drive me.”

His brow rose. “Why not?”

“I just… I don’t want anyone to see. To assume. I need today to feel normal again, Lucas. Not like… this.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but stopped himself. “Alright. Call me if you need anything.”

I gave a small nod, tugging my coat tighter around me. “Thanks again. I’ll see you later.”

And with that, I slipped out into the city, the key to his apartment weighing down my bag—and maybe, quietly, my heart too.

\----

By the time I stepped out of Mr. Harris’s office, the lightness in my limbs had only just begun to return. The conversation had gone better than expected, though the undercurrent of pressure still lingered.

He’d been calm, understanding even, when I explained my absence.

“You should’ve called, Lila,” he said, hands folded neatly on the desk.

“I know. I wasn’t in the right headspace,” I admitted. “There was… an incident.”

His brow furrowed slightly, concern slipping briefly into his usually composed expression. “You don’t need to explain everything. Just… make sure it doesn’t happen again. The CEO was here yesterday, asking for you.”

That made my pulse stutter.

Lucas had really been at my store.

I nodded. “I’ll speak to him.”

Mr. Harris gave a brisk nod, letting the matter drop. But I knew he was watching me more closely than usual as I left.

What he didn’t know was that I’d already spoken to Lucas—more than spoken. I’d vented to him. Slept under his roof. Ate at his table. Woke up to the sound of his voice just outside my door. I kept that knowledge tucked tightly inside me like a secret I wasn’t ready to share.

As I pushed open the glass doors of the main floor, the energy inside Novoux hit me all at once. The scent of fresh florals mixed with warm perfume. The soft thrum of music overhead. Laughter. Chatter. Life.

“LILA!” Ethan’s voice practically bounced off the walls as he ran over, grinning like a child reunited with their favorite toy.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” I laughed as he engulfed me in a hug. “It was just a week.”

"Barely?” Jordan scoffed as he joined us, smirking. “Tell that to your boy here who almost shit his pants when the CEO showed up asking for you.”

Ethan slapped Jordan’s arm. “Dude!”

“What?” Jordan laughed. “She should know how much you panicked. You were sweating through your shirt. Like visibly. We thought we’d have to carry you out.”

I chuckled as Ethan groaned, burying his face in his hands.

The girls were next—Mia, Sophie, Anne, and Catherine—rushing over with bright eyes and tighter hugs. Sophie squeezed my hand as Catherine chirped, “We missed you, Lils!”

“More than you know,” Mia added with a playful wink.

Anne clapped her hands together. “Guess what? While you were away, we killed that task!”

I blinked. “You did?”

“All of us,” Mia said proudly. “And on Friday, Mr. James personally brought the award. It’s sitting pretty on your desk.”

I turned toward the corner where my desk was, and sure enough, the crystal-clear plaque glinted under the morning light like a quiet badge of victory. My chest warmed.

“You guys… I’m so proud,” I said, meeting each of their gazes. “That’s exactly the kind of teamwork I’ve been trying to build here.”

They smiled, their shoulders straightening with pride.

“But,” I added, sobering a little, “you should also know that this is our last week working together in this exact way.”

Their smiles faltered slightly.

“What do you mean?” Catherine asked, brow furrowing.

“Well,” I continued, “now that we have two stores to manage, more people will be joining the team. Some of us will be shifting, overseeing different locations, pairing with new staff.”

There was a pause. Then Sophie let out a dramatic sigh. “Finally! I’ve been trying to get away from Anne’s playlists for weeks now.”

Anne gasped in mock offense. “Excuse you, my playlists are iconic.”

“We’ll see how iconic they are when you’re singing them to yourself alone at the new store,” Mia teased.

Laughter rippled through the group, easy and light.

I smiled. “Alright, alright, back to work. Customers are walking in.”

They began to scatter, but I raised a hand before they got too far. “Oh—and one more thing. Team dinner tonight. On me.”

Their cheers echoed across the floor, and for the first time in what felt like days, I felt something that resembled peace.

A little worn at the edges, yes—but peace, nonetheless.