Sweet Hatred Chapter 198: Safe Space pt 2

"I fought with Olivia."

Sarah tensed. "Oh no. Did she—?"

"She packed the whole house."

Sarah sat upright. "She what?"

I just shook my head against her. "Took everything and by everything I an her stupid husband and the kids. Left the keys on the counter. I ca ho and it was just... silent. And I don’t—I can’t—" I stopped. Swallowed. "I didn’t know where to go."

She pulled into her lap like we were back in college and I was drunk crying over so asshole who ghosted after two dates.

"Okay," she whispered. "Okay. I’m here baby. You’re safe. Breathe."

I did.

Barely.

Sarah eventually peeled herself off the couch with a soft groan, muttering sothing about baths and pajamas that would make feel better. I didn’t move.

I didn’t even look up, just listened to her steps disappear into the hallway, her voice trailing behind her about the lavender salts being "actually magic" and the only thing that ever convinced her not to burn her entire life down.

She disappeared into her room, and I was left alone again.

Just and my thoughts. Which was, frankly, a dangerous combination.

I sighed and dug my phone out of my bag with numb fingers, already dreading whatever I might see. The screen lit up.

Twenty-two missed calls.

All from Kael.

I blinked. Refreshed the screen. Yep. Still twenty-two. So only a few minutes apart.

My stomach tightened, not from guilt, not exactly, but sothing colder and stickier. What if he thought I was hurt? What if he was tearing his office apart, thinking I got kidnapped, thinking I was bleeding sowhere?

I rubbed my face and started typing out a ssage. Sothing noncommittal. Casual. "Sorry, phone was on silent. Fell asleep at Sarah’s." Sothing to make him stop calling without asking any questions.

But then the screen flickered... and died.

Of course.

Dead as hell.

I stared at it for a second, then called out weakly, "Sarah?"

"Yeah?" she answered from down the hall.

"You got a charger?"

"In my room! Nightstand, right side!"

I should’ve gotten up. Should’ve at least tried. But I just... couldn’t. I let the phone drop onto my lap and sank deeper into the couch like it was trying to absorb into the fabric and keep there forever.

The silence crept in again. Slower this ti. Louder.

My brain, exhausted but I unforgiving, started replaying everything. Like so broken film reel I couldn’t pause or escape.

The fight with Olivia.

The empty house.

Kael’s silence, and then my sudden desperation.

The stranger on the bike, with his smooth voice and sharp edges, his soft hands and unreadable expression. That infuriating pride he wore like his stupid cologne.

And then the way I held onto him on the highway like I’d done it a hundred tis. Like I knew him. Like he was safe.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Who the hell was he?

Why did I trust him enough to get on the bike?

And why, out of everyone, Kael, Olivia, the life I used to have, was he the one who made forget, even if it was just for a second?

My throat felt tight. My body heavy.

I didn’t want to think anymore. Not about Kael. Not about Olivia. Not about anything.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, letting the silence blanket . Just for a mont.

Just to rest.

I don’t rember sleeping. Just a blur of water, towels, Sarah’s oversized pajamas, and the taste of toothpaste that felt like sandpaper. We’d crashed at three. My alarm went off at eight. I wanted to throw it across the room, but bills were real and so were consequences, and apparently we were still playing the ga of being functional adults.

So now here we were.

Dragging our asses through the lobby of XE Towers like war survivors. Sarah kept yawning like she was trying to catch flies, her heels clicking across the marble with zero grace. My head was pounding like it was trying to escape my skull. And neither of us looked remotely ready for a corporate battlefield.

"I’m just gonna say there was an elevator outage," Sarah mumbled beside as we waited for the elevator. "Or maybe food poisoning. You think Mr. Philips would buy that?"

"You told him last week you don’t eat."

"Shit, right." She blinked. "Maybe elevator it is."

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t even fake a smirk. My brain was still sowhere back in Sarah’s living room, stuck on Olivia’s face when she left, Kael’s missed calls, and the bitter silence that followed. I didn’t even know what I’d say to Olivia. If I’d say anything at all.

The elevator dinged.

We both got in. Sarah leaned on the wall like it was holding her soul together and pressed her floor.

"Good luck with the dictator," she muttered with a sleepy grin.

"Pray for ," I murmured, just as deadpan.

The 18th floor arrived first. Sarah dragged herself out and gave a lazy finger gun before the doors closed again, sealing in for the final stretch to the top floor.

I looked down at myself. The skirt Sarah had loaned was hugging tighter than my own regrets. My blouse was clean, barely wrinkled, but my eyes were tired and I had that "no makeup, no will to live" glow going on.

The elevator chid again.

I stepped out, adjusting the waistband, just trying to keep it from riding up too high. One step. Two.

"Nice of you to show up."

I froze.

That voice.

I didn’t even have to look.

Kael.

The mont I saw him, sothing inside did that thing.

That ache. That stupid lurch that no amount of anger or exhaustion could kill. My heart thudded so loud I was sure he could hear it, that slow, deep bass that reminded exactly who the hell he was to . And why I hated it.

Kael stood there looking maddeningly composed, too composed for a man who’d blown up my phone like a madman just hours ago. Like the 22 missed calls were a technical glitch and not a ntal breakdown on his end.

My tongue tripped before my words even ford.

"I... I slept in," I mumbled, brushing past him with a frown I hoped looked convincing. "Weren’t you supposed to be out of the country or sothing?"

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he followed like a shadow, silent, tall, infuriating. We passed Rose at her desk. She looked up and smiled warmly.

"Morning, Ms. Thorne."

"Morning," I replied with a tight smile.

"Where were you last night?" Kael’s voice finally ca, low but direct.

I paused by my office door, hand on the handle.

"Sarah’s." I didn’t look at him. "I told you I slept in."

I turned the handle, ready to disappear and maybe bang my head on my desk for the rest of the day. But before I could step inside, his hand caught my wrist.

"What—"

He pulled toward his office.