CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
ELISE
ALESSIA ARRIVED LIKE clockwork. It was the same way she had every night since the breakup, stepping into my home as if she lived there.
She didn’t bother knocking anymore—just walked in, placed whatever food she brought on the counter, and gave me a once-over like she was assessing how close I was to completely unraveling.
Kelsey wasn’t far behind, kicking off her shoes and tossing her purse onto the couch after she would come home from an interview or photoshoot or whatever it is she had scheduled for the day, before she plopped down next to me, settling in for the night until I found the strength to go to my bedroom.
The both of them made it their personal mission to keep me from drowning in my own misery, though I wasn’t sure how well they were succeeding.
“Delivery for you,” Alessia announced, holding up a to-go cup. I already knew where it was from before I even saw the familiar Bakery Bliss logo. White Mocha Latte with Extra cold foam.
The same order I’d gotten every chance I got for the past three years. Except I hadn’t set foot inside the café since the breakup, and I certainly hadn’t ordered this one.
But I knew who did.
Alessia stood in the entry of the living room, her expression cautious, as if she wasn’t sure whether I’d accept it or toss it across the room. A tense beat passed before she crossed the space and gently placed the cup in front of me on the coffee table.
“He’s still trying,” she said.
I didn’t need to look at the cup to know there was a message scrawled across it in Nathan’s messy, slanted handwriting. My fingers curled against my thighs, nails biting into the fabric of my leggings as I tried to ignore the way my heart lurched—how weak it still was when it came to him.
But curiosity was a cruel thing.
I picked up the cup.
Please, cupcake. Just talk to me. Just once. I miss you.
I exhaled sharply, my chest tightening as I stared at the words.
Cupcake. The stupid nickname he’d given me after winning me that stuffed one at the summer festival over two months ago.
I’d slept with it every night since he gave it to me, but now it sat at the bottom of a box near the front door, buried beneath every other gift he’d ever given me.
Every morning after I sent him away from the hotel, a new Edge Records artist showed up outside my door, crooning one of my favorite love ballads.
It got to the point where I kept a water bottle waiting for them because if they were being forced to sing me their entire discography, the least I could do was keep them hydrated.
Each performance chipped away at my resolve, but I held strong.
Alessia watched me carefully as I exhaled and set the cup back down.
“You don’t have to drink it,” she added softly.
I nodded. Then, without another word, I picked it up again, walked over to the kitchen and dropped it into the trash can. The coffee sloshed against the sides before settling at the bottom, dark and untouched.
Alessia winced. “That was kind of brutal.”
“What’s brutal,” Kelsey cut in, following me into the kitchen, “is that Nathan had the audacity to send it in the first place.” She crossed her arms, looking as unimpressed as ever. “He screwed up, and no amount of overpriced coffee is going to fix it.”
Alessia sighed, shaking her head, but didn’t argue. I appreciated that she wasn’t pushing me to forgive him, but I could still sense her lingering sympathy for Nathan.
It didn’t matter.
I wasn’t confused anymore.
I straightened, brushing imaginary lint from my leggings, and made my way to the front door. I ignored their questioning stares as I lifted up the box, gripping it tightly before opening the door.
Sure enough, Nathan was standing near his car, hands in his pockets, his face a mixture of exhaustion and hope when he saw me.
My stomach twisted painfully at the sight of him—at how uncharacteristically disheveled he looked.
The dark circles under his eyes, at the slight stubble on his jaw.
This wasn’t the polished, put-together CEO the world saw. This was just Nathan.
The man I loved. The man who broke my heart.
“Elise—” He started, but I didn’t let him finish.
I walked straight up to him and, with every ounce of composure I had, dropped the box at his feet. The stuffed cupcake, the jewelry, the countless trinkets and memories he’d given me over the course of our relationship.
He inhaled sharply. “Please, just give me a chance to explain.”
I turned before he could think to say more, heading back inside as fast as my legs could carry me.
“Elise,” he called after me, his voice rough with desperation. “Please, don’t do this. Just talk to me.”
I froze, my hand pressed against the cool wood of the door. My chest heaved once, twice, before I slowly turned back to him.
“One minute,” I said finally, my voice steady even though my heart wasn’t. “That’s all you get.”
Nathan’s shoulders sagged with relief, and he stepped closer cautiously, like he was afraid I might vanish if he moved too fast. “Did you… did you like them?” His voice cracked. “The songs, the gifts. I just wanted to remind you how much you mean to me.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Having half your roster show up on my doorstep singing love ballads? It’s every girl’s dream.” My throat tightened, but I forced myself to keep going. “And the jewelry? Nathan, you could buy out Harry Winston and it wouldn’t make a difference.”
His brows knit together, pain etched into his face. “I thought—”
“That’s the problem.” My voice sharpened.
“You thought you could fix this with money, with grand gestures. But you can’t buy your way back into my heart.
Not when what’s broken between us isn’t about what you can give me, but what you took away.
” The words hung heavy between us. His lips parted, like he had something to say, some defense or plea ready on his tongue, but for once, Nathan Edge, the man who could talk circles around anyone, had nothing. “Your minute’s up,” I whispered.
Then I turned, walked back inside, and shut the door, the finality of it echoing in my bones.
I barely registered the way my friends watched me, their faces laced with quiet concern, before I walked past them and straight up to my room.
I curled into bed, the soft hum of my ceiling fan filling the silence before the memory hit.
I stretched my arms over my head, sinking deeper into the pile of blankets and pillows spread across Nathan’s living room floor.
The soft flicker of the fireplace cast a golden light over the space.
Outside, the city hummed quietly in the distance, but in here, everything felt still, wrapped in the warmth of low lamplight and the scent of his cologne.
It was one of those rare, perfect nights that were calm, unhurried.
I turned my head slightly, peeking away from the fireplace to look at Nathan out of the corner of my eye. It was still weird seeing him like this—t-shirt rolled up, grey sweatpants and bare feet. Not a suit or tie in sight.
Nathan caught me staring. “Something on my face?”
“Just wondering if this is real or if I’ve entered an alternate reality where you actually know how to relax,” I teased.
He huffed a small laugh, reaching for the picnic basket. “I can relax.”
“Prove it,” I mused, propping myself to sit up with my legs crossed. “Open your mouth,” I said, grinning as I held up a grape.
Nathan arched a brow. “I’m not a dog, Elise.”
“Come on. Please?”
With an exaggerated sigh, he leaned back and parted his lips. I tossed the grape, but it bounced off his chin.
Laughter spilled out of me as he shook his head. “You’re terrible at this.”
“Excuse me?” I grabbed another grape, aiming with extra determination. “I’m giving you another shot.”
This time, he caught it effortlessly, chewing with an infuriating smirk.
“Show-off,” I muttered before Nathan grabbed the last chocolate covered strawberry that sat between us.
“You plan on sharing?” I asked.
Nathan hummed, holding the strawberry between his fingers. “That depends. What do I get in return?”
“My eternal gratitude?”
He pretended to consider. “Tempting, but no.”
“Nathan.”
“Cupcake.”
A beat passed before he brought the strawberry closer to my lips but before I could take a bite he pulled it away. He did that twice before having mercy on me and allowed me to take a bite before he finished it off.
Nathan licked the last trace of chocolate from his thumb, his gaze flicking to mine with a slow, deliberate intensity. “Alright,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave. “I’m ready for dessert number two.”
I blinked. “What’s dessert number two?”
His lips curled into a knowing smirk, and then he gave me a look that was heated and full of intent. A look that sent a shiver down my spine.
Oh.
Heat flooded my cheeks. “Nathan.”
“Cupcake,” he countered smoothly, already leaning in, his breath warm against my skin. “You asked.”
And before I could form a response, his lips were on mine. The kiss was slow and teasing, sweet with strawberries and something unmistakably him.
A sob wrenched itself from my throat as I curled into myself and came back to the present, my fingers gripping the blankets like they could somehow hold me together.
A second later, my door creaked open.
Neither Kelsey nor Alessia said a word as they climbed into bed with me, one on either side.
Alessia pressed in close behind me, her arms slipping around my waist, while Kelsey curled into my front, taking the place of my pillow.
They didn’t say anything. They didn’t have to. Their warmth wrapped around me, steady and grounding, and I finally let myself fall apart.