For the next three days, the atmosphere inside Conrad’s house was thick with unspoken words.
Eurydice had avoided him.
Not completely. Not obviously.
But in small ways.
Like choosing to eat at different times.
Or spending more hours than necessary in the art studio she had claimed as her own.
Or giving short, clipped answers whenever Conrad tried to make conversation.
And Conrad?
He let her.
For the first time since their arrangement started, he didn’t push.
Didn’t tease. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t provoke her the way he usually did.
And that only made everything worse.
Because the more he didn’t push—
The more she noticed it.
The more it got to her.
Until finally, on the fourth day, something snapped.
It was late.
Past midnight.
Eurydice had been up, unable to sleep, pacing the kitchen while stirring a cup of tea she didn’t actually plan to drink.
Then—
Footsteps.
She knew it was him before she even turned around.
And sure enough—
There he was.
Standing in the dim light of the kitchen, dressed in his usual black pajama pants and a loose T-shirt, hair slightly mussed from sleep.
Normally, he would have said something snarky by now.
Made a comment about how she looked like she was plotting something with the way she stirred her tea.
But instead—
He just watched her.
Silently.
And Eurydice couldn’t take it anymore.
She slammed her mug down.
“Okay. Enough.”
Conrad blinked. “Excuse me?”
Eurydice turned, arms crossed. “This! This whole thing you’re doing.”
Conrad raised an eyebrow. “And what thing am I doing?”
She threw up her hands. “You’re not being you!”
That actually made him smirk. “Oh? And here I thought you’d be thrilled.”
“I’m not thrilled,” she snapped. “I’m—”
She stopped.
Because she didn’t actually know how to finish that sentence.
What was she?
Frustrated? Annoyed? Jealous?
No.
Not jealous.
Absolutely not jealous.
Conrad tilted his head, studying her. “Santiago,” he said slowly. “Are you upset that I haven’t been annoying you?”
Eurydice scowled. “I’m upset that you’re acting weird.”
Conrad exhaled. “I’m not acting weird.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Then why haven’t you been making my life difficult these past few days?”
He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Because, believe it or not, I can tell when you don’t want me around.”
Eurydice froze.
The words landed heavier than she expected.
Because suddenly, she realized—
He had noticed.
Every time she stepped away.
Every time she cut a conversation short.
Every time she chose to be anywhere but near him.
He had seen it.
And instead of pushing, instead of demanding an answer, he had just…
Let her.
The guilt hit her harder than she expected.
She looked away, muttering, “I never said I didn’t want you around.”
Conrad’s lips twitched.
“Oh? Because that’s what it looked like.”
She crossed her arms, defensive. “Well, maybe you should’ve been the one to say something first.”
Conrad blinked. “You’re blaming me for this?”
Eurydice glared. “Yes.”
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Unbelievable.”
She huffed, muttering, “You are unbelievable.”
And that was it.
That was the final straw.
Because suddenly, they were standing too close.
Too tense.
Too tangled in something neither of them understood.
And then—
Conrad spoke.
“I bought the painting because I knew you wouldn’t.”
Eurydice sucked in a breath.
“What?”
Conrad exhaled, voice quieter now.
“You wanted it.”
Eurydice stiffened.
She wanted to deny it.
Wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter, that she had changed her mind.
But she couldn’t.
Because they both knew the truth.
She had wanted it.
She had been drawn to it.
And now, here it was, sitting in the house like a reminder of something unfinished.
Just like them.
The air between them was thick with tension.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them spoke.
Until—
Eurydice let out a frustrated sigh.
“This is so stupid.”
Conrad’s lips twitched. “Agreed.”
But neither of them moved.
Because something had shifted.
Something had broken open.
And for the first time since all of this began—
They had to face it.
Even after their heated confrontation in the kitchen, Eurydice still couldn’t sleep.
She had stormed off, not because she had won—but because she didn’t know what else to do.
Now, she lay in their shared bed, arms crossed over her stomach, staring at the ceiling as if it held all the answers.
But, of course, it didn’t.
And beside her—
Conrad slept soundly.
His breathing was steady, his face relaxed in a way she rarely saw when he was awake. Gone was the sharp businessman, the ruthless heir, the man who got under her skin like no one else ever had.
Instead, he looked… peaceful.
And that irritated her.
Because how dare he sleep so easily after everything?
How dare he look so unaffected while she was stuck thinking about all of this?
She turned on her side, facing him fully now.
Studying him.
Because whether she wanted to admit it or not—something had changed.
The way he looked at her.
The way he let her in, even when he pretended not to.
The way he had noticed when she pulled away.
And the worst part?
She had let him in too.
Somewhere along the way, she had stopped pretending.
Stopped thinking of him as just a temporary act—a necessary evil in their engagement charade.
Because he was more than that now.
And that realization terrified her.
She couldn’t do this.
Not again.
Not when she had already been through this exact mistake before.
She had fallen before.
Had let herself believe in something that wasn’t real.
And all it had done was cost her everything.
Her dreams.
Her ambitions.
Her sense of self.
Until she had been forced to choose between love and the life she wanted.
And she had learned her lesson.
Had promised herself she would never make that mistake again.
She closed her eyes, forcing her thoughts to settle.
But then—
Her phone vibrated on the nightstand.
She grabbed it, squinting at the screen.
A text.
From Amelia.
Her best friend, who had never texted this late unless it was important.
And when she read it—
Her stomach dropped.
Amelia: He’s back.
Just two words.
Two words that sent a sharp, familiar ache through her chest.
She swallowed.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating.
Then, finally—
She typed a response.
Eurydice: When?
Amelia: Tonight.
A pause.
Then—
Amelia: Are you okay?
Eurydice exhaled slowly, staring at the text for a long moment.
Was she okay?
No.
Not even a little bit.
Because he was back.
The man who had once held her heart.
The man who had expected her to sacrifice her dreams for him.
The man who had made her question whether love was ever worth it at all.
And now, when she was already on dangerous ground with Conrad—
He had returned.
Eurydice turned her phone face-down on the nightstand.
Stared at the ceiling again.
Tried to ignore the way her chest felt too tight.
And beside her, Conrad slept on, completely unaware.
Completely oblivious to the fact that—
For the first time since they met, he wasn’t the only thing occupying her thoughts.