Chapter 18 The scent that haunts me
IRIS
It’s a warm Saturday afternoon, and Daisy and I are walking out of the grocery store, arms weighed down with two heavy paper bags each. The sun is out but the breeze is kind, and I squint up at the sky, already tired.
“I needed this weekend so bad,” I mutter, adjusting the strap of my bag. “Finally, two days of peace. No lectures, no professors, no Adrian. Just sleep.”
Daisy lets out a loud laugh. “You say that like you’re eighty.”
“I feel eighty,” I grumble. “I’ve been running on caffeine and deadlines all week.”
“That’s because you bury yourself in books,” Daisy points out with a snort. “You don’t know how to enjoy your youth.”
“I enjoy it fine,” I argue. “By sleeping. Like a normal person.”
She snorts again. “A normal person goes to parties, hangs out with friends, flirts with hot guys. You? You get excited over color-coded notes.”
“I will not apologize for my organizational skills,” I say with mock dignity. “And besides, I have friends. You’re my friend.”
“Exactly,” she says, giving me a smug look. “Which is why I invited Adrian over for lunch.”
I nearly drop my bag. “You did what?”
She grins, completely unbothered. “Invited Adrian. Over. For lunch. Today.”
“Daisy!” I shriek, pausing right in front of the car. “Why would you do that without asking me first?!”
She shrugs, setting her bags in the trunk. “Because you’re not my mom?”
“That is not-”I stammer. “You can’t just spring something like that on me! What if I didn’t want him there?”
“You don’t want him there?” she asks, feigning innocence. “Because you two seem awfully cozy these days.”
I glare at her. “Cozy? He flirts, I roll my eyes. That’s not cozy. That’s… chaos.”
“And chaos is just another form of chemistry,” she sings.
“Daisy,” I groan. “Seriously.”
She closes the trunk and turns to face me, arms crossed. “Look, you’ve been moping all week, and when you’re not moping, you’re pretending to be okay. I figured a little distraction wouldn’t hurt.”
“I’m not moping,” I protest.
She raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been listening to sad playlists on repeat and staring at your ceiling for hours.”
“It’s called processing, thank you very much.”
“Sure,” she says, unconvinced. “And today, we’re going to process with fries, milkshakes, and one very flirty McAlister.”
I sigh, shifting my weight as I narrow my eyes at her. “Does he even know I’ll be there?”
“Nope,” she chirps. “Surprise for both of you.”
“Great,” I mutter, tugging open the passenger door. “Remind me again why I’m friends with you?”
“Because I have impeccable taste in drama and fries.”
I get into the car, shaking my head, but a reluctant smile tugs at my lips. I hate how she always manages to pull me into her chaos.
And I hate even more that I care.
Daisy slides in too, and drives.
We arrive home, the grocery bags rustling as we set them down on the kitchen counter.
"I'll grab a quick shower," Daisy says, already heading toward her room. "Don't take too long; Adrian will be here soon."
I nod, my thoughts elsewhere.
As I step into my room, a familiar scent hits me; earthy, musky, unmistakably Darian. It's faint but pervasive, clinging to the air like a memory. My heart skips a beat.
He's been here.
Again.
I close the door behind me, leaning against it as I inhale deeply. The scent is everywhere. on my pillow, my blanket, even the sweater draped over my chair. It's as if he's left pieces of himself scattered throughout my space.
Why does he keep coming here?
He refuses to see me, to speak to me, yet he invades my sanctuary, leaving behind traces of his presence like ghosts haunting the corners of my room.
Anger bubbles up, hot and sudden. I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms.
What gives him the right?
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, unbidden and unwelcome. I blink rapidly, trying to hold them back, but they fall anyway, tracing hot paths down my cheeks.
I sink onto the edge of my bed, the weight of everything pressing down on me. The betrayal, the confusion, the longing, all of it crashes over me in a tidal wave of emotion.
I sob, the sound raw and guttural, echoing in the quiet room. My shoulders shake as I bury my face in my hands, the tears coming faster now, unstoppable.
A soft knock at the door startles me, but before I can respond, it opens slowly.
"Iris?" Adrian's voice is tentative, concerned.
I don't look up.
He steps inside, closing the door gently behind him. "Hey, what's wrong?"
I can't answer. The words are stuck in my throat, choked by the sobs that continue to wrack my body.
Adrian crosses the room and sits beside me, his presence warm and grounding. He doesn't speak, doesn't press me for answers. Instead, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a comforting embrace.
"It's okay," he murmurs, his voice soothing. "I'm here."
I lean into him, the tears still falling, but the storm inside me begins to calm, just a little.
I pull away from Adrian the moment I hear the door creak open.
Daisy steps into the room, holding the edge of the door with a confused look that quickly turns amused the second she sees us. Her eyes bounce between me and Adrian, his arm still half-extended like he hasn’t quite decided whether to let go or reach back, and the red around my eyes that I know I haven’t fully wiped clean.
“Uhm…” she blinks, slow and deliberate. “Did I miss something?”
I scramble to sit properly, my back to the headboard. Adrian shifts too, letting his hand fall casually to his lap like he hadn’t just been holding me a second ago.
My heart thuds. Loud. Heavy.
I quickly swipe at my face, trying to erase any trace of the breakdown. “No. Nothing happened. I was just… overwhelmed.”
“Overwhelmed,” she repeats, tilting her head. Her tone is playful, but there’s concern buried underneath it. “With Adrian holding you like that?”
I roll my eyes and grab the nearest pillow, chucking it at her. “Oh my god, Daisy.”
Adrian clears his throat and shifts a bit, casually leaning back against the headboard like nothing’s out of the ordinary. “Just giving Iris a pep talk.”
“Oh? With a cuddle?”
“Emotional support,” he says smoothly, shooting her a wink.
I groan and roll my eyes. “Can you two not?”
Daisy walks in fully, arms crossed. “I leave for ten minutes and come back to a whole therapy session on the bed. You alright?”
“I’m fine,” I mutter, even though my voice still sounds strained.
She narrows her eyes at me, and I can see her scanning my face, noticing the puffiness, the faint redness under my eyes. She knows better. Daisy always knows.
“Iris…” she starts.
“I said I’m fine.” I snap a little too sharply, and immediately regret it. “Sorry.”
Daisy exchanges a quick look with Adrian before glancing around my room. Then she sniffs the air, subtly, but I see it. I freeze.
She smells it, doesn’t she?
I look at Adrian out of the corner of my eye, wondering the same. His expression hasn’t changed, but surely… surely he can smell his brother’s scent too. It’s unmistakable. That scent that keeps haunting my space. My mind. My damn chest.
I wrap my arms around myself.
Adrian shifts closer. “You sure you’re okay?”
I want to scream. I want to ask if he knows. I want to punch Darian in the throat for thinking he can ghost me and still creep into my room like a memory that refuses to die.
But instead, I just nod. “Yeah.”
Daisy gives me a long look but doesn’t push. “Lunch is almost ready. You two coming?”
“Yeah,” Adrian answers for us, already rising. “I could use some fries after all that emotional labor.”
“God,” I mutter, throwing a pillow at him.
He catches it midair and tosses it back on the bed with a grin. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Daisy arches a brow. “For?”
“Keeping your girl from falling apart,” he says, strolling toward the door. “Again.”
“Not my girl,” Daisy says, throwing me a side glance.
I shake my head at both of them, but something about the easy banter grounds me. I manage a small smile, even if my chest still feels like it’s being squeezed from the inside.
We all leave the room together, but as I shut the door behind me, I swear I can still feel his presence lingering in the air.
Darian.
What game are you playing?