Maddox
I cut the engine and turned to face Stella. The quiet inside the car settled immediately, heavy after the low hum of the road. She looked as if she was trying to curl into herself and disappear into the seat, her shoulders drawn tight, her gaze fixed somewhere near her knees.
The house loomed ahead through the windscreen. Familiar to her, no doubt. Less welcoming than it pretended to be.
I flipped the sun visor down and straightened my tie in the small mirror. If I’d pegged her parents correctly, then tonight would be a complete shit show.
“Sitting comfortably, baby?” I asked, flipping the visor back into place.
“With my thongs stuffed inside me?” she huffed. “There’s something wrong with you. You should consider therapy.”
I chuckled softly under my breath. It was diabolical, sure—but I didn’t want my come leaving her body anytime soon.
“Can you recommend anyone?” I asked.
Despite herself, she grinned and shook her head, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction.
“Ugh. Let’s get this over with,” she said, reaching for the seatbelt release button.
It slid off with a soft click and she sighed, slumping back for a moment as if gathering the courage to open the door.
I reached across and took her hand before she could move, holding it between both of mine. Her fingers were cooler than I expected.
“You’re not alone anymore, Stella,” I assured her quietly.
She looked down at our hands for a second before lifting her eyes to mine.
“Thank you, Maddox,” she whispered sadly. “They just make me feel so… small.”
I shook my head immediately.
“Baby, you are beautiful, funny, smart, and so fucking sexy that you are always on my mind. At home—and in the office,” I said, watching as her eyes began to shine.
Her lips trembled as she tried to smile.
“I even watch you sleep and think of all the things I’m going to do when you wake up,” I added with a wink.
She giggled then, the sound soft but real, and freed her hand to slap my chest.
“You’re unbelievable,” she said, though the fear in her expression had eased.
I caught her wrist gently before she could pull away, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles.
“Better?” I asked.
She took a breath and glanced toward the house again. The lights inside glowed warmly, deceptive as ever.
“A little,” she admitted.
“Good,” I said, opening my door.
The cool evening air slipped into the car as I stepped out and walked around to her side. When I opened her door, she hesitated for a moment before taking my hand and climbing out.
She smoothed down her dress, lifted her chin, and looked toward the house again.
“Okay,” she murmured.
“Okay,” I agreed.
And together we walked toward the front door.
Her gait was a little off as we crossed the path, the subtle shift in her stride not something anyone else would notice—but I did. At least I would be a constant reminder inside her.
Stella tilted her head up and pressed the doorbell.
A moment later the light flicked on behind the frosted glass. Shadows moved inside before the lock clicked and the door swung open.
Grace’s smile faltered the instant she saw me.
It was brief—just a flicker—but unmistakable. She recovered quickly, smoothing the expression back into place and pasting a polite smile across her face.
“Dr Lexington, I don’t know what Stella has been telling you, but we don’t need a mediator. I’m sorry she’s troubled you,” she said, narrowing her eyes briefly at Stella before slipping back into her hostess persona. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner, though.”
“I’m not here in any professional capacity, Mrs Byron,” I said smoothly.
Her mother reminded me of a woman desperately trying to recapture her youth. She was only a couple of years older than me, yet the tightness around her mouth and the hard set of her eyes made her seem far older. Bitterness had a way of doing that.
“What do you mea—”
“Are you going to let us in, mother?” Stella interjected.
Grace blinked.
“Oh, yes. Of course,” she said quickly, stepping aside.
Stella walked past her without hesitation. I followed a step behind as we entered the hallway, the polished floors gleaming beneath the warm lighting.
As we moved toward the dining room, furious whispering erupted behind us.
Tobias sounded confused—low, uncertain—but Grace’s voice cut through it sharply as she filled him in on the current turn of events.
I pulled out a chair for Stella and waited until she sat down before taking the seat beside her. The room smelled faintly of roasted vegetables and wine, though the tension in the air was stronger than either.
No one else joined us.
“You know, I figured out a solution for your period,” I drawled as she reached for the water jug.
Stella paused mid-pour, glancing sideways at me.
“What are you on about?” she asked nervously, filling her glass before taking a cautious sip.
“I mean if you were pregnant you wouldn’t have a period.”
I shut my eyes just as the water sprayed out of her mouth.
She coughed, scrambling for a napkin and wiping at her lips while glancing quickly toward the doorway.
Then she turned to face me.
“Have you lost all your marbles?” she hissed.