33. Violet
VIOLET
I wasn’t planning to come here.
That’s what I tell myself as I walk up the driveway toward Sebastian and Ivy’s house.
Three days.
That’s how long I’ve been giving Drew space.
I texted. Sent him pictures of Luna.
No response.
The evening air is soft, the sky dimming into that quiet space between day and night. It should feel calm.
But it doesn’t.
Because Drew hasn’t been responding.
My fingers tighten slightly around my phone before I slip it into my pocket.
Still nothing.
A small, steady tension settles beneath my ribs.
I want to be sure he’s okay.
I step onto the porch and knock.
A few seconds pass before the door opens.
Sebastian blinks once, clearly not expecting me. “Violet?”
I smile easily. “Hey. Is Drew home?”
“I’m not sure,” he says, shifting slightly. “I just got home. Let me ask Ivy.”
He steps back. “Come in.”
I take three steps inside and pause. “He’s not here.”
Sebastian pauses, then slowly turns around. “What?”
I shrug lightly, like it’s nothing. “He’s not here.”
His gaze sharpens as he studies me now.
“His scent isn’t here.”
Sebastian doesn’t blink.
Silence settles between us.
Ivy’s soft footsteps come from the kitchen. She steps up beside her husband.
“Hi, Violet.”
Sebastian doesn’t move.
Doesn’t speak.
Just watches me.
“He smells like soap and cedarwood,” I add.
I inhale once, slow and measured.
“I only smell you… and Ivy.”
Sebastian’s brows furrow. “Okay.”
“Oh, they definitely have distinct smells.” Ivy’s tone is bright, like she fully understands.
She stares at me, curious and pleased.
I meet her gaze.
She knows.
“You get it,” I say, smiling.
Ivy beams.
Sebastian doesn’t.
He doesn’t understand.
Not the way Ivy does.
I give a small wave. “I’ll see you both later.”
I turn and head toward the door.
I hear Sebastian murmur, "She's... different."
Then Ivy’s cheerful reply. “So am I.”
I close the door behind me and smile.
Ivy and I are kindred spirits.
The air is warm as I slide my hands into the pockets of my jeans and walk back toward my car.
I don’t rush.
A prickle crawls across the back of my neck.
I turn.
Sebastian stands at the window, watching me.
I continue walking, my smile widening.
He thinks he can figure me out.
And maybe he can.
But figuring me out and stopping me are two very different things.
Ivy and I may be similar, but we’re not the same.
Callie is more like her than I am.
Worse, probably.
When Callie wants someone, she’s relentless.
No patience.
No control.
Not like me.
I know exactly what I’m doing.
And it’s working.
I slide into my car, resting my hands lightly on the steering wheel.
A slow breath leaves me as I start the engine.
I know exactly where Drew is.
I put the car in gear and pull away from the curb.
I turn up the radio as I head for the house on Mill Road.
See you soon, Drew.