Elodie’s ankle was throbbing with a very sharp pain every ti she put weight on it.
It was definitely twisted. Maybe worse.
Johnny was looking at her with that concerned expression, and sothing about it made her chest feel tight. Warm but also... sad. Because he cared. He actually cared.
And she could feel everyone else watching. Could practically hear their thoughts.
‘She threw herself at him. She did it on purpose. And now she’s hurt and it’s her own fault.’
She glanced around without aning to and saw the looks. Saw the judgnt.
And Dante... Dante hadn’t even bothered to make sure she was okay. Hadn’t asked if she was hurt. Just pushed her away and went right back to his conversation like nothing had happened.
Like she was nothing.
The only person who actually gave a damn was Johnny.
"Should I take a look?" he asked, already moving closer.
"No, it’s—" She shook her head. "There’s too many people—"
But Johnny wasn’t listening.
Before she could protest further, he just scooped her up. Lifted her like she weighed nothing and carried her away from the cluster of people still staring.
He set her down on one of the chairs near the wall and knelt down in front of her.
Her face went hot. "Johnny, you don’t have to—"
But he was already removing her heel, gently. His fingers brushed her ankle and she winced.
It was swollen. Visibly swollen already.
Johnny’s jaw tightened. He looked up, and caught the attention of one of the waitstaff hovering nearby. "Can you call for a doctor? And we need a pair of flats. Size..." He glanced at Elodie.
"Seven," Elodie said quietly.
"Size seven. Sothing comfortable."
The waiter nodded and hurried off.
People were still watching. But the energy had shifted.
So of them looked surprised now. A few were whispering to each other, reassessing.
Because Johnny wasn’t acting like soone helping out a casual employee. He was acting like soone who genuinely cared. Like Elodie actually mattered to him.
Maybe she hadn’t thrown herself at Dante on purpose. Maybe it really had been an accident.
Maybe they’d been wrong.
The whispers continued, but quieter now. Less certain.
Sienna was watching from across the room. Her teeth caught her bottom lip for a second before she looked away and then looked at Dante instead.
He was still talking to soone from the French delegation. Hadn’t even glanced over when Johnny picked Elodie up. Hadn’t reacted at all to the scene happening fifteen feet away. He was completely unbothered. Completely indifferent.
Sienna’s shoulders relaxed. The tight line of her mouth softened into sothing almost like a smile.
If Dante didn’t care, if he could watch Johnny tend to Elodie like that and not even blink, then there was nothing to worry about.
Whatever bond had existed between them was dead.
Sienna turned back to the conversation she’d been having with Lauren and one of the other guests and then smiled. Laughed at sothing soone said and stopped paying attention to Elodie entirely.
She didn’t matter anymore. Even if she ever had.
___________
ELODIE’S POV~
The restaurant’s backup doctor suddenly showed up pretty quickly and checked my ankle, prodded it a bit, which hurt more than I wanted to admit and then handed over so ointnt.
"Apply this twice daily. Keep weight off it as much as possible for the next few days."
"Got it. Thank you."
Once the doctor left, Johnny reached for the ointnt.
"I can do it myself," I said, already reaching for it.
He gave a look. That look. The one that said ‘sit down and let help you.’
I raised my hands in surrender. "Fine. Go ahead, sir." I teased him and saw his lips curl slightly.
He knelt back down, unscrewed the cap, and started applying the ointnt carefully. His hands were gentle, which sohow made it worse. Made my throat feel tight.
Soone cared. At least one person in this entire ss actually cared if I was hurt.
A waiter ca back with the flats. I slipped them on, and tested my weight. The ankle protested but it held.
"It’s fine," I said. "I can walk."
"Good." He humd, his eyes darting to my feet as he rose to his full height.
But walking around an exhibition hall for hours? That wasn’t happening. Not with my ankle like this.
Johnny suggested I skip the rest of the event. He’d already asked soone to photograph the exhibits anyway. I could review everything online later, go through the videos and technical specs from ho.
It was disappointing. I’d wanted to see everything in person but there wasn’t much choice.
Johnny let the others know we were leaving, and then we headed out.
The drive ho was quiet. My ankle throbbed with every bump in the road.
Johnny dropped off at my building and turned to . "I’ve got so things to handle, but call if you need anything."
"I will. Thanks, Johnny."
"Anyti."
He waited until I was inside before driving off.
I made it upstairs slowly, each step that I took seed to remind of how stupid I had been. I should’ve been paying more attention. Should’ve seen that person turning.
Should’ve done a lot of things differently.
By the ti I got inside, I was exhausted. The plan was simple. Rest, then ssage Johnny later about the review assignnt from Nolan. Figure out how we were going to tackle that impossible deadline.
I set my phone on the nightstand and was about to close my eyes when it rang.
It was an unknown number.
I almost didn’t answer. But sothing made pick up.
"Hello?"
"It’s Harry Becker."
I sat up too fast. My ankle scread in protest. "Alpha Becker?"
Honestly, with everything that had happened today, the exhibition, Nolan, the lunch, falling into Dante’s arms and feeling him push away like I was contaminated... I’d completely forgotten about this morning. About Harry. About my car getting hit.
"I had soone take care of your car," he said. Straightforward. No preamble. "You can pick it up whenever. Or if it’s inconvenient, I can have soone deliver it."
The offer caught off guard.
"No, that’s, you don’t need to do that. I’ll co get it."
Silence fell on the other end.
Had I been too quick to refuse? Too abrupt?
"Mr Becker?"
"Alright. I’ll send you the repair shop’s contact information."
"Thank you. Really."
He hung up without saying anything else.
I stared at my phone for a second. That was... strange. But also kind of him. He didn’t have to follow up. Didn’t have to make sure I actually got the information.
But with my ankle the way it was, I couldn’t exactly drive over to pick up the car. Could barely walk to the bathroom without wincing.
I pulled up Johnny’s contact and sent a ssage.
‘Hey, any chance you could pick up my car from a repair shop when you’re done? Ankle’s worse than I thought.’
His response ca fast.
‘Of course. Send the address.’
Relief washed over . At least that was handled.
I ordered takeout, wasn’t in the mood to cook, wasn’t physically capable of standing that long anyway and ate in front of the TV. So mindless show I wasn’t really watching.
My phone rang again just as I was finishing. And it was Liora.
My chest squeezed. I’d been so focused on getting through today that I’d barely thought about her. About the fact that she was waiting at ho. That she’d notice I wasn’t there.
"Hi, sweetheart."
"Mom! When are you coming ho?"
Her voice was bright and happy. She had no idea that her mother had spent the day being humiliated and dismissed and pushed away.
"I sprained my ankle," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "Can’t walk very well right now. So I’m resting at a friend’s place. I won’t be ho tonight."
"What?" Her tone shifted imdiately. She was worried now. "You’re hurt? Is it bad? Does it hurt a lot?"
"It hurts," I admitted. There was no point lying to her. "But it’s not serious. I’ll be fine in a few days."
"Are you sure?"
"I’m sure, baby. I promise."
She was quiet for a second. Then, softer, "Okay. But you have to rest, okay? Don’t walk on it."
My throat felt tight. "I won’t. I promise."
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