Chapter 3
THREE
When I step out of the en suite, I hear the theme song from Tetris. Wearing a simple but elegant navy-blue dress that falls just above my knees, with a modest neckline and a fitted waist, I look more put together than I feel.
Walking into my closet, I slip on a pair of black ballet flats, opting for comfort over heels.
I hate heels. I’m tall enough as it is.
I’ve taken a nap, but I still feel drained. My old room feels foreign, like a relic of a past life I’ve desperately tried to escape smelling like lavender fabric softener.
August sits on the edge of my bed, his face illuminated by the glow of my old Game Boy that he holds only inches away from his face.
“You’re going to strain your eyes,” I tease, settling at my old vanity. The wooden chair creaks beneath me, a sound that echoes through my childhood memories.
He looks up, a wry smile playing on his face as he puts the Game Boy aside. “Says the girl who spent her youth coding in the dark.”
“Touché,” I concede, turning on my phone before reaching for my brush. As I start to detangle my hair, wincing as the brush glides over my bump, my phone starts to buzz incessantly.
What the…
I don’t think I’ve ever received that many notifications before. Like, ever.
Switching it to silent, I check the screen. Oliver, Misha, Grey, Morgan, even Mr. Donovan. They’ve all tried to reach me, and a pang of guilt twists in my stomach, but I push it aside.
I’ll call Morgan tomorrow. Let her know I’m okay.
For now, I need to focus on getting through this godforsaken dinner. And the talk I should have had with August since he told me about the divorce. “So,” I begin, meeting August’s eyes in the mirror, trying to keep things light. “How are you holding up? With the… you know.”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, a gesture so familiar it makes my heart ache. “With my wife threatening me with divorce? It’s… complicated.”
“You said you didn’t cheat. Is there anybody else? For you? For her?”
“No, never. You know there was only ever her. Love isn’t the problem.”
“What is, then?”
“Father’s pushing me to take over the firm.”
I spin around so quickly I almost topple off the chair, shock coursing through me. “What? But you always said—”
“I know what I said, Meelie,” he cuts me off, using the childhood nickname that only he can get away with. “But things changed when you left. They got worse.”
When I left?
Guilt gnaws at my insides. “You can’t just give up your dreams,” I plead, my throat tightening. “What about environmental law? All those plans you had? Fighting the companies Father represents?”
That’s all he ever wanted. All he ever talked about.
“You sound just like Abigail. She said she couldn’t stand by while I sold my soul, my principles.
” His laugh is hollow, echoing through the room.
“As if I hadn’t tried. You know how they are.
It’s not that simple. He could take away everything.
The house, the private school, and the trust funds for the girls.
And then he could easily make sure I would never get work anywhere else again. ”
“I bet Abigail doesn’t care about that.”
“She doesn’t, but I do! Amelia, I don’t want my family to suffer. And I know they would. You know they would. He would make our life hell.”
Yes, I understand that all too well.
It is complicated.
It’s that type of influence, that magnitude of power, that defies explanation. Like a fish trapped in a net, and even once you escape, you find yourself within their glass bowl.
August had wanted to use his degree and his wealth for good.
He wanted to protect the trails we hiked, the nature he loves so much.
Abigail is cut from the same cloth, instilling those same values in their daughters.
It’s no wonder she can’t just stand by while he betrays everything he ever stood for.
Father is going to ruin August’s life.
He’s already well on his way.
And it’s all because when I left, he slipped back under their scrutiny.
It’s all my fault.
What does my freedom mean if it only brings agony to the one person who matters to me?
A flicker of emotion stirs in my stomach, eerily similar to what thinking about the three men I left behind always feels like. But I push it away.
The only person who matters to me now.
Liar.
I turn back to the mirror, my fingers working through a particularly stubborn knot, using the pain to ground myself. “Maybe it is,” I say softly, the words barely audible. “Maybe… maybe I could come back.”
August’s head snaps up, his eyes wide. “You know I’m thrilled you’re here, Meelie, but—”
“What’s left for me in Seattle?” I interrupt, the words barely above a whisper, raw and vulnerable.
“The guys… they’re done with me. My work is gone.
Everything I built there is over. I haven’t even told my boss that I’m not coming in.
I’m probably already fired.” I meet his gaze in the mirror, seeing my own pain reflected back at me.
“If I come back, take the path they always wanted for me… maybe I can save you from it.”
“You’re not a lawyer. You can’t take over the firm. And even if you were, he would never let a woman take it,” August spits, disgust clear in his expression.
“I could find a way. I could—”
“You’re the smartest person I know, but so, so stupid,” August grunts out, shaking his head.
I flinch involuntarily, my hand freezing mid-brush stroke as I process his words. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand, struggling to keep the hurt at bay.
He lets out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in a gesture I know all too well.
“You’re part of that family, my family, I try to save.
And for the record, I never wanted you to throw away your work because of a setback.
You can still work from here. Giving everything up?
That’s not you. That’s not the strong, determined woman I know. What’s really going on?”
I slump in my chair, the fight draining out of me. “You don’t understand. It’s not just a setback. It’s… everything.”
His eyebrows furrow in confusion, a deep crease forming between them. “What do you mean?”
I take a deep breath, steeling myself to finally voice the truth I’d been grappling with.
My heart races, and I can feel a slight tremor in my hands as I clasp them tightly in my lap.
“I’ve made AR visible to the naked eye.” August looks like he wants to say something, his mouth opening, but I just push out the rest before I lose my nerve.
“And it’s gone. Someone must have found out and got into my apartment to steal it.
This was the project of my life. And it’s gone.
” My voice cracks on the last word. “Starting from scratch would take years, and it would be no use. Before I got back on track, the person who stole my project would have long ago brought it to the market, or another competitor would have. Not to mention that I used some resources from my company, which I can’t do again now they know about it.
Or at least some colleagues up in the rank know about it.
I don’t know if they would rat me out to keep me from it and… ”
Why wouldn’t they?
They did worse.
August’s brow furrows deeper, his eyes searching my face. “Why did you tell them if you don’t trust them?”
“I didn’t,” I murmur. “They are the ones who watched me through my cameras.”
A heavy silence falls between us, thick with unspoken questions and growing unease. August’s face is a mask of concern, but there’s something else lurking beneath the surface… suspicion?
“Amelia,” he says slowly, as if choosing each word with painstaking care. “Can’t you see it? They’re the ones who broke into your apartment and took it.”
“I—” I start, but the words die on my lips.
I want to dismiss it outright, to laugh it off as absurd, but a traitorous seed of doubt has already taken root in my mind when I saw their surveillance. Flashes of memories play through my thoughts like a grainy film reel.
Grey walking into my apartment like it was nothing to grab me for a walk.
Oliver standing in my bedroom out of nowhere when I was crying my eyes out.
I’m sure of what I’ve seen. I’m sure they were watching me. Using me for their project.
But hurting me to steal mine?
Would they really do that?
“No,” I say, but it comes out weak and uncertain, more a question than a statement.
“They wouldn’t…” Even as I speak the words, the foundations of my trust crumble more beneath me.
“I don’t know,” I admit, the weight of it cracking through me.
“I don’t know anything anymore. It’s like the ground beneath my feet has turned to quicksand, and I’m sinking fast.” Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I blink rapidly to keep them at bay.
August stands, reaches out to grab my hand, and pulls me to stand in front of him, hugging me tightly. “They probably did,” he says softly, his words muffled against my hair. “And you’re probably right. You can’t go back. But that doesn’t mean you have to stay in this house and bury your dreams.”
“I would… I will,” I whisper, clinging to him like a lifeline. “For you.”
“And I don’t want you to,” he says firmly, pulling back to look me in the eye. “We’ll find a way, okay? Now I have you back, we’ll find a way.”
He’s right.
I can’t go back.
Not to them.
Every interaction, every shared moment, now feels tainted, viewed through a lens of suspicion and hurt.
The possibility of them stealing from me feels like a physical weight on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I want to deny it, to cling to what I thought we had, but the evidence seems damning.
And as I stand there in August’s arms, I feel simultaneously anchored and adrift.
“You ready for the dinner from hell?” he murmurs with a hint of humor in his voice as he lets go of me.
Nothing about this is funny.