Chapter 15
Everly
A few days pass, and the routine settles back in. I don't mention Liane, and she slips into the back of my mind as I focus on work at the Ember. Xavier keeps his distance, and I don't seek him out. I take the time to try to figure out where this is all going. Because it seems like it's going somewhere, fast.
Just not anywhere I can imagine.
I pour myself a cup of coffee, the steam curling upward in the quiet morning air. The kitchen has the usual energy—soft chatter, the clink of silverware against plates. Lila’s chair is empty, but I don’t think much of it. She’s always been unpredictable, coming and going as she pleases. Maybe she had an early morning, or maybe she’s still asleep. I push the thought aside and focus on my toast, buttering it with a steady hand.
By dinner, though, the knot in my stomach is harder to ignore. Lila’s seat at the table remains empty, and Xavier’s demeanor is glacial. He’s distant, his responses curt, his eyes avoiding everyone else's. Even Sable is quieter than usual, her sharp remarks absent.
Something's happened.
I wait until we’re alone in the hallway before I turn to Winter.
“Where’s Lila?” I ask, keeping my voice low. “She wasn’t at breakfast or dinner.”
Winter looks at me sympathetically. “Lila has a tendency to... wander,” she says, her tone light but careful. “When things start to feel too routine, she loses interest. She’s done this before in her life. It's just something that happens.”
“But will she come back?”
Winter pauses, her gaze steady. “No. I don't think so.”
I feel a sting I didn’t expect. Just a few days ago, Lila was comforting me after that run-in with Liane. We were laughing, connecting, and now she’s just gone? Without even a goodbye?
Did Lila say goodbye to Xavier? Does he even care? The way he’s been acting tonight, so cold and withdrawn, I wonder if he’s upset or just annoyed.
The thought unsettles me more than I want to admit. I trail behind Winter, my thoughts swirling. Had Lila been planning this all along? And why does it bother me so much? I’d just started to feel like we were getting closer, like she was someone I could rely on in this strange, tangled world.
Now, she’s just gone.
But not forgotten.
Lila’s absence presses down on the house like an unspoken secret. Days pass, and Xavier doesn’t emerge from his private quarters, leaving the dolls and me in a heavy, unresolved silence. Sable’s sharp tongue seems dulled, her usual quips replaced with clipped, strained remarks. Winter moves with her usual precision, but her icy demeanor falters now and then, revealing unease in her eyes.
It's weird without Lila.
I try to focus on my work, on the routine, but my mind drifts. I find myself walking past Lila’s empty chair at breakfast, lingering by the door of the dining room as if expecting her to saunter in late, laughing, apologetic.
She doesn’t.
By the second day, the quiet is unbearable. I’ve had enough of waiting, enough of wondering. I make my way to Xavier’s private wing, uninvited. The door to his lounge is closed, but I can feel him behind it. There's a charged energy that draws me despite the hesitation gnawing at my gut.
I knock once before pushing the door open. Xavier sits on the couch, slouching heavily. The room smells faintly of whiskey.
He doesn’t look up when I step inside.
“Xavier?” I try softly. “You’ve been... gone. Is everything okay?”
I wonder briefly if he even heard me. But then he looks up. His eyes are cold, distant, like a stranger’s.
“It’s fine, Everly. You can go.”
I take a step forward. “You’ve barely spoken to anyone in days. You’re upset about Lila, aren’t you?”
His jaw tightens, a flicker of emotion crossing his face before he smothers it. “I said it’s fine.”
“But it’s not fine.” My voice rises with frustration, and anxiety claws at my heart. “You’re shutting everyone out.”
He lifts an eyebrow, his tone cutting. “And why does that bother you so much?”
“Because I care,” I snap. “Because it feels like you’re punishing all of us for something Lila did.”
Xavier regards me like I've just told an inappropriate joke. It's like he can't believe I'd say such a thing and wants to forget it as soon as possible. His head drops to his chest slowly, and in real time, I see him dismissing me, retreating into himself.
“Everly,” he says finally, his voice low and rough. “Go.”
I hesitate, part of me wanting to push, to scream, to demand answers. But another part of me, the part that’s learning to recognize the walls he builds, steps back. I turn and leave, the door closing behind me with a soft, definitive click. The sound echoes in my ears as I walk away, leaving him alone in his darkness.
Fine.
I lean against the door, letting out a slow, shaky breath. My heart feels raw, like it’s been dragged over gravel. The truth I blurted out is still ringing in my ears, even though the door is closed between us now.
I care. I care about Xavier.
I push off the door and start down the stairs, my feet heavy. At the bottom of the stairs, I hesitate, unsure where to go. The kitchen? The game room? Anywhere but back to my room, where I’d only sit and stew in this miserable feeling.
“Everly.”
I jump, my hand flying to my chest. Winter stands nearby, her arms crossed and a knowing look in her eyes. She’s so still, so calm, while I feel like I’m unraveling.
“You’ve been up there,” she says, nodding toward Xavier’s private wing. “He was difficult, I imagine.”
“Not just difficult.” My voice cracks, and I hate it. “He’s gone, even when he’s right in front of you.”
Winter's expression softens. “Come on,” she says, turning and walking toward the first-floor lounge. “Let’s talk.”
I follow her, my legs carrying me on autopilot. Winter sits on the couch, her posture perfect, and gestures for me to join her. I do, but I can’t sit still. I fidget with the hem of my dress, my mind a mess.
“Why are you here?” I ask finally, looking at her. “You don’t have to babysit me.”
Winter smiles faintly. “I’m here because you need to understand.”
“Understand what?”
She seems to get more comfortable, her hands resting in her lap.
“Lila,” she says quietly. “Her leaving. It shouldn't have this effect on you.”
“It shouldn't?” The bitterness in my voice surprises me. “Because it feels personal.”
Winter tilts her head. “Lila was never serious about submitting to Xavier. She didn’t really submit at all. Not the way you think.”
I frown. “What does that even mean?”
“Lila’s thing was the thrill,” Winter explains. “The chase, the push and pull. She loved the game, but she never really let go. Not for him, not for anyone. She’s a wanderer, Everly. Always has been.”
I try to process this. “So she’s just... gone?”
Winter nods. “She’s gone. And Xavier—” She pauses, studying me. “He’s not upset because he cares. He’s upset because he can’t keep anyone.”
The words hit me like a slap. “What?”
“Every doll who’s left—every single one—he’s pushed them away long before they actually go,” Winter says, her tone gentle but firm. “Because deep down, he knows they'll leave. And it scares him.”
The room feels smaller, the air heavier. “That’s why he’s so guarded,” I realize aloud.
Winter nods. “Exactly. And Lila’s leaving is just another reminder that no matter what he does, no matter how much control he takes, he can’t stop people from walking away.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. All this time, I thought Xavier was this untouchable figure, this master of control. But now, sitting here, I see even more cracks. The man upstairs, drowning in whiskey, is scared.
And it fucking breaks my heart.
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask finally, my voice barely above a whisper.
Winter’s gaze locks onto mine, sharp and unyielding. “Because I think you need to know. Xavier isn’t a monster, Everly. He’s just broken.”
Broken. The word repeats in my head like a mantra. Xavier is broken. And I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. All I know is that the man I’ve been so afraid of, the man I’ve been trying to please, is just as lost as I am.
And I don’t know what to do with that.
We sit for a while longer until I feel steadier. But then I thank Winter and excuse myself, the revelations pressing down on me as I retreat to my room. The moment the door closes behind me, I lean against it. Xavier’s face floats in my head—his cold, distant eyes, the way he sounded when he told me to leave.
Winter said he’s not upset because he cares. He’s upset because he can’t keep anyone.
I stumble forward and sink onto the bed, my hands trembling. The gallery conversation comes back to mind—his words, so raw and unguarded. I couldn’t save her. But I can save them. Now, Winter’s words slot into place like a missing piece of a puzzle. Xavier didn’t tell me the whole story that day. He’s not just trying to save them—he’s trying to get someone to stay.
He’s scared.
Xavier Ravenwood, the man who commands a room with a single glance, the man who bends everyone to his will—scared. Of being left. Of losing control. Of being empty.
I think about Lila, then, and the jealousy that once burned in my chest. Her boldness, her freedom, the way she seemed to glide through life unmoored. I judged her so harshly. But now... now I feel a pang of guilt. She wasn’t just leaving Xavier. She was leaving this whole fragile, complicated web he’s spun.
And me? What about me?
The thought creeps in before I can stop it.
Do I stay? Or do I leave, like everyone else? Can I give him something different? Something that will make him feel less empty?
My stomach twists at the thought. I don’t even know how to feel about it. Part of me wants to scream, to rail against the idea of giving myself to someone so broken. But another part of me—smaller, quieter—aches. It aches for Xavier, for the cracks in his armor, for the man behind the mask.
I don’t know what I want. Or what I’m capable of.
But what I do know is this: I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this pull. This tangled, messy, inexplicable pull toward him. That tiny ache in me, it's not just that I feel bad for him.
Maybe I want to be the only one to stay. And maybe I'm afraid I can't.
Maybe I won't be enough.