104. Scarlett
Scarlett
T he villa door clicked behind me with a softness that didn’t match the storm still spinning in my chest.
The bathroom stretched quiet. Still. Like it hadn’t been watching the whole night unravel.
I didn’t turn on the lights. Just walked straight through the hush of it, turning on the tub—feet still sandy, legs still unsteady, wearing nothing but Alden’s soaked, oversized shirt.
It clung in damp patches from where the kayak sprayed us, and I hadn’t bothered to change.
It smelled like salt and wind and danger. Like them.
Steam ghosted the mirror, curling like smoke along the marble counter.
I stripped the shirt and let it drop in a quiet heap. Then climbed into the tub without testing the heat.
Didn’t need to.
I just wanted to disappear.
The water climbed slow—ankles, knees, thighs, chest. I sank beneath it until only my collarbones stayed above, skin flushed from the heat, hair floating like gold in the bathwater.
The world outside went quiet.
But my head didn’t.
I reached for my phone, buzzing faintly with heat from the steam. My fingers left streaks on the screen as I opened the one thread that always felt like home.
I typed one-handed, my arm trailing along the side of the tub, damp fingers making each word come slower than the last.
Scarlett:
I think I broke something tonight.
Scarlett: And I think I liked it.
Scarlett: Please still love me.
A few seconds passed. Then—
Lena: We always do.
Lena: You don’t have to earn it.
I blinked. That one—
That one got me.
Sloane: What the hell did you do
Sloane: I feel like you’re naked and wet and being reckless again
Scarlett: …technically yes
Sloane: OH MY god
Sloane: WAS IT TRACE OR ALDEN OR BOTH
Sloane: WAS THERE FIRE
Sloane: BLINK TWICE IF SOMEONE DIED
I snorted into my wrist, the laugh catching in my throat.
Scarlett: Just needed to hear your voices.
Lena: You don’t need a reason.
Lena: I mean it. We’ve got you. Even if it’s bad. Even if you are.
My chest cracked a little wider.
Sloane: Please come home before you get arrested or crowned or both
Scarlett: No promises
I set the phone on the stool beside the tub, screen dimming. The room held its breath.
Steam climbed my neck, kissed the curve of my jaw. My eyes drifted shut.
For one minute, I let it all fall away.
The bloodlines. The bonds. The boys.
The prophecy I hadn’t asked for.
Just water. Heat.
And the echo of Lena’s voice in my head.
You don’t have to earn it.