Chapter 41
CADE
Mine and Lex’s Apartment
The glow from the city leaks in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, smearing streaks of gold and cobalt across the polished floors. The skyline is a jagged silhouette—steel and glass stretching like brushstrokes across a canvas I never seem to finish.
We’re thirty-one floors up in one of Daniel’s buildings. It’s all sharp angles and quiet power. The open-concept apartment has high ceilings, brutalist bones, and the kind of view most people would sell their soul for.
We moved in a few months ago, sick of splitting time between Wexley and Redspire, tired of living out of bags and pretending either place really felt like home.
This one does. Or at least it used to. Now it’s just… quiet. So damn quiet. I roll onto my side again, staring at the red digital numbers on the bedside clock. 2:15 a.m.
Where is he?
I check my phone again.
LEX: I’ll be home soon.
That was over an hour ago. I stare at the ceiling.
What the hell have I done?
I pull up her contact, thumb hovering, heart aching. I want to call her, but what would I even say? Sorry I flinched when you said you loved me? Sorry I looked at you like you were someone I didn’t recognize?
I always knew Lex had darkness and I chose him anyway. But Bella? She was supposed to be like me. Light. Soft. Safe. Not someone who could look me in the eye and confess the kind of things that’ll keep me up at night.
That’s the part that hurts the most, because even now, even after all of it. I still love her. I just need some time.
I squeeze the phone tighter, heart hammering.
Beep-beep.
Beep-beep
The keypad to the front door unlocks.
I sit up fast, breath uneven as I shove the covers off. The hallway light bleeds in from the cracked door. I step into the hallway, heart already racing.
He walks right past me. Doesn’t look. Doesn’t speak. Just sets his bag down, goes straight into the bathroom, and shuts the door behind him.
That soft click might as well be a gunshot. I just stand there, hollow, like I broke something I don’t know how to fix. And this time, I don’t even know if sorry will be enough.
When he comes out he still won’t look me in the eye. Just walks right past me and heads toward the bed.
“Can we talk?”
“That depends, are you still gonna bitch about Bella?” he snaps. “Because if so, I don’t want to fucking hear it, Cade. Not after tonight. Not after what I just saw.”
“I wasn’t going to bitch about Bella. Can you at least tell me what happened?”
Lex turns. “Oh, now you care about what goes on during her missions?”
“That’s not fair,” I say, the words catching in my throat. “I said I needed time, not that I don’t care about her.”
Lex exhales through his nose, jaw clenched. “Then take your time, Cade,” he says, voice low and steady. “But I’m not. I’m not giving up on the fact that the three of us together could be something great. I’m not giving up on her. I’m not pushing her out.”
He takes a step closer, eyes burning.
“She’s had enough grief to last a hundred lifetimes. I saw her darkness, Cade. It was beautiful. She’s not a monster. She’s a goddamn masterpiece. The way she saved those kids tonight?”
I freeze, speechless.
“Yes, it’s dark. Yes, it’s violent. But so is life, Cade. And Bella? She shines through the darkness. Lives for it, in the best way possible.”
His voice drops, rough and raw. “And I hope one day, Cade,” he swallows hard, just once. “I hope one day you wake the fuck up and realize it too.”
“Will you please tell me?” I ask, quieter now. “Tell me what happened tonight?”
He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “No, Cade. I won’t.”
The words land like a slap.
He walks to the bed and pulls back the covers. “I’m not gonna tell you what happened,” he mutters, tossing his phone on the nightstand. “Because you need to fucking see it. With your own two eyes.”
And then, just like that, he climbs into bed, turns his back to me and goes to sleep. Leaving me standing there in the dark.
Alone.
???
I wake up to silence. No weight beside me. No rustle of sheets. Just cold air and the soft hum of the city outside. I sit up slowly, rubbing the back of my neck, still sore in that way you feel after a night you can’t stop replaying.
The apartment feels too still. He’s gone. His duffel’s gone. So is his hoodie from the back of the chair. On the dresser, there’s a folded piece of paper. I cross the room barefoot and pick it up.
Gone to train at The Pit.
I’ll call you later.
—Lex
I read it twice.
It’s short.
Dismissive.
Lex-style polite, but it still hurts. I know what it means. He needs space from me. And the worst part is I don’t blame him.
I fold the note and slip it into my pocket. Then I just stand here, breathing. Wanting to say something. To text Lex. To call Bella. But I don’t.
Because I meant what I said. I need time. And if I stay here where Lex looks at me like I’ve already failed, I won’t get it.
So, I pack light. A few clothes. My charger. My sketchbook. Grab my keys off the counter and head back to Wexley. Just for a while.
Some distance will help.
Some time will help.
Eventually, it’ll all be fine.
I hope.