Chapter 104 Turned down
Hannah
When I wake up, the first thing I notice is the quiet.
The second is how… light I feel.
It takes me a moment to place it, to compare it to the heaviness that sat in my chest yesterday, the confusion, the guilt, the constant tug-of-war in my head. But this morning, it’s not as loud. Not gone, just… softer.
Manageable.
I lie there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, letting myself exist in that calm before everything rushes back in.
And then….
Oh no.
My eyes widen slightly as the memory creeps in.
Timothy carrying me. My bed.
And then…
My hand flies to my face.
‘Don’t go… stay…’
I groan softly into my pillow.
Why.
Why would I say that?
I squeeze my eyes shut like I can somehow erase it from existence.
Maybe he didn’t hear it. Maybe I was too quiet.
Maybe…I drop my hands and stare at the ceiling again.
Who am I kidding? Timothy notices everything.
There’s no way he didn’t hear it.
Mortification settles in my stomach.
“Fantastic,” I mutter to myself.
I sit up, dragging a hand through my hair, already bracing myself for whatever awkwardness awaits downstairs.
Still, I push myself out of bed and get ready.
The routine helps by showering, dressing, fixing my hair. By the time I’m done, I’ve managed to push the embarrassment to the back of my mind.
Mostly.
I take one last look at myself in the mirror.
“You’re fine,” I tell my reflection.
I don’t entirely believe it.
But it’s enough to get me moving.
Downstairs, the house is quiet as usual.
I walk into the dining room and pause.
It’s empty. I frown slightly. He’s not here.
For some reason, that disappoints me more than I expect. I move toward the table anyway and sit down, Lisa already bringing out breakfast.
“Good morning,” she says warmly.
“Morning, Lisa.”
I glance at the door once.
Then again.
Stop it. He probably just left early.
It’s not like he has to wait around for you. I pick up my fork and start eating.
A minute passes.
Then, I hear footsteps.
I look up. And promptly forget how to think.
Because Timothy walks in. Slightly sweaty. Wearing a fitted tank top and shorts.
My brain blanks for a solid second.
Because…
Right. He works out. Of course he does.
But seeing it like this is… different.
His arms are toned, defined in a way that makes it very obvious he doesn’t just casually exercise. There’s a light sheen of sweat along his skin, his hair slightly damp, and….
I blink. Hard.
Get it together, Hannah.
“Morning,” he says casually, grabbing a towel from the side and wiping his neck. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I haven’t,” I say quickly.
Too quickly.
He raises an eyebrow.
“I went for a run,” he adds, like that explains everything.
“Right,” I say, clearing my throat. “That makes sense.”
Why am I still looking? Stop looking.
He moves to sit across from me, completely unaware, or maybe very aware of the effect he’s having.
“Good morning,” he says again, more deliberately this time.
“Good morning.” I focus very hard on my plate.
Very hard.
We start eating.
For a few minutes, the conversation is light. Meaningless. Safe.
“How did you sleep?” he asks.
“Good,” I say. “You?”
“Same.”
A lie, probably.
He never sleeps much.
“What are you doing today?” he asks.
“Not much,” I reply. “You?”
“Work,” he says simply.
Of course.
The conversation drifts like that for a bit.
Normal.
Almost too normal.
And then…
“Oh,” he says suddenly, like he just remembered something. “We have dinner at my parents’ tonight.”
I freeze. Then groan.
“Oh my God.”
I drop my fork and lean back in my chair dramatically.
“I forgot about that.”
He laughs.
Actually laughs.
“I figured you might.”
“I don’t want to go,” I mutter, dragging a hand over my face.
“Neither do I,” he admits easily.
That makes me pause.
I peek at him.
“Really?”
He smirks slightly.
“Really.”
I huff.
“Your father is going to be there.”
“Unfortunately.”
“And Yvonne.”
His smile fades just a fraction.
“Yes,” he says flatly. “Yvonne.”
I shudder slightly.
“I’m not mentally prepared for her antics.”
“Neither am I,” he says. “But we already agreed to go.”
I sigh.
“Of course we did.”
“Better to just get it over with,” he adds.
I nod reluctantly.
“You’re right.”
Then I add, “If I survive, I expect a reward.”
His brow lifts.
“A reward?”
“Yes. Emotional compensation.”
He huffs a small laugh.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
We both smile.
The tension eases again.
Breakfast continues, lighter now.
But underneath it, something else lingers.
Something unspoken.
Eventually, we finish eating.
He sets his fork down and looks at me.
“Are you going to be busy today?”
I blink.
“Why?”
He hesitates just slightly.
“I was thinking… we could spend some time outside. On the grounds.”
My heart does something annoying.
Something I immediately try to ignore.
Because the truth is, I want to say yes.
I want to go with him.
I want more moments like last night.
Easy. Quiet. Close.
But that’s exactly the problem.
Sienna’s voice echoes in my head.
Be careful.
Don’t give too much.
I swallow.
And lie.
“I actually have a few things to do today,” I say, trying to sound casual. “So I’ll probably be busy most of the day.”
There’s a small pause.
“Oh.”
It’s subtle.
But I hear it.
And see it too…the brief flicker of disappointment before he masks it.
“Okay,” he says.
I force a small smile.
“Maybe another time?”
He nods.
“Yeah. Another time.”
But he looks away when he says it.
And something about that makes my chest tighten.
He stands.
“You should be ready by six,” he adds. “For dinner.”
“I will.”
Another small pause.
Then he nods once and turns away.
I sit there for a second longer before standing too.
Then I leave the dining room.
Leave him behind.
As I walk back to my room, one thought lingers quietly in my mind.
I said no.
But it didn’t feel like the right answer.