Eurydice stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection as if it held all the answers.
She was exhausted.
Not just physically, but emotionally, mentally—down to her very core.
Her meeting with Liam had gone better than she had expected.
There had been no bitterness, no unresolved pain, just two people who had once loved each other finally letting go.
And yet, the moment she had stepped back into this house—Conrad’s house—she had felt something else entirely.
Something unsettling.
Something she wasn’t ready to name.
She reached for a towel, patting her damp face, willing herself to push away the thoughts crowding her mind.
But no matter how much she tried to deny it, the truth was staring her right in the face.
Her past with Liam hadn’t been holding her back.
Conrad was.
Or rather—whatever it was she felt for him.
And that?
That was dangerous.
Eurydice walked into the bedroom, expecting silence.
Instead, she found Conrad standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, a whiskey glass dangling from his fingers, his gaze fixed on the city lights outside.
She hesitated in the doorway, debating whether or not to say something.
Then—
"You look like someone who just went through a midlife crisis."
She rolled her eyes, stepping further into the room. "You’re one to talk, Mr. Stares Dramatically Out the Window at Night."
Conrad smirked but didn’t turn around. "I prefer to call it contemplating my empire."
Eurydice snorted, walking past him to grab one of her oversized sweaters from the armchair. "Right. Because a multi-billion-dollar legacy isn’t enough—now you need to contemplate it."
His voice was amused, but there was something in his tone, something unreadable. "You met with him today."
It wasn’t a question.
Eurydice stilled for half a second before slipping on her sweater. "Yeah."
A pause.
Then—
"How do you feel?"
She let out a slow breath. "Like I finally closed the door on something that should’ve been shut a long time ago."
She expected him to make a sarcastic remark.
Something teasing, something dismissive.
But instead—
"Good," he said simply.
She turned to look at him, surprised.
He was still facing the window, but there was something almost… relieved in his voice.
And that?
That was new.
Eurydice crossed her arms, watching him. "Why do you care?"
Conrad finally turned to face her, head tilted, lips curving into something unreadable.
"Because you do."
Her breath hitched.
She hated that he could do that.
That he could say something so simple, so matter-of-fact, and unravel her completely.
Because he was right.
She had cared.
She did care.
But not about Liam.
Not anymore.
The next afternoon, Eurydice found herself in the garden, seeking an escape in the only way she knew how.
The air was warm, filled with the distant chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves. The koi pond reflected the soft hues of the sky, shifting with every ripple in the water.
She sat on the stone pathway near the pond, her canvas propped up in front of her, colors bleeding into one another beneath her practiced strokes.
Painting had always been her escape, her way of making sense of the things she couldn’t put into words.
But today, even the act of mixing colors, of layering blues and golds onto the canvas, wasn’t enough to clear her mind.
She could still hear Conrad’s voice from last night.
"Because you do."
Her fingers tightened around the paintbrush.
Because he was right.
She did care.
But what did that mean?
The sound of footsteps on the stone path made her pause.
She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
Conrad.
Of course.
He stopped a few feet behind her, hands in his pockets.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then—
"You skipped breakfast," Conrad remarked casually.
Eurydice smirked, dipping her brush into a deeper shade of blue. "Didn’t know you were keeping track."
"I don’t," he said smoothly. "I just happened to notice."
She huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Liar."
Conrad chuckled but didn’t deny it.
Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze flicking to her painting.
"You’re painting the garden."
"Observant as always, Montague," she teased, tilting her head.
But there was something soft in her voice, something almost… affectionate.
He didn’t comment on it.
Instead, he watched her for a long moment before asking, "Is it helping?"
She hesitated, then nodded. "It usually does."
A pause.
Then, quietly—
"Not today?"
Eurydice’s brush stilled mid-stroke.
She shouldn’t be surprised that he noticed.
He always did.
Her fingers tightened around the brush as she murmured the words before she could stop herself.
"Conrad."
He hummed in response.
She took a breath, her gaze fixed on the canvas, as if looking at him would make this too real.
"...What happens to our contract if everything becomes real?"
The words hung in the air, fragile and dangerous.
The breeze whispered through the trees, the koi pond rippling softly in the background.
But Conrad?
He didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
And for a moment, she thought maybe—maybe he wouldn’t answer.
Then—
His voice was low, unreadable.
"Are you asking as a hypothetical?"
Eurydice exhaled sharply, setting her brush down.
"I don’t know." She finally turned to face him.
Conrad’s expression was carefully blank, but there was something in his eyes—something she couldn’t quite decipher.
"Are you afraid of the answer?" he asked.
She hesitated.
Because the truth was—yes.
Yes, she was.
If he told her everything would stay the same, that nothing between them would change, would she feel relieved?
Or disappointed?
If he said that the contract wouldn’t matter anymore—that they didn’t need it—what would she even do?
Eurydice’s fingers curled into her lap.
"I just…" She paused, shaking her head. "I don’t know where the lines are anymore."
His gaze darkened, something shifting behind his sharp eyes.
"There aren’t any," he said.
Her breath hitched. "What?"
Conrad took a slow step closer.
"There aren’t any lines left, Eurydice," he murmured. "Not for me."
She swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her ears.
Because for the first time since this all started—
She knew.
This wasn’t a game anymore.
It hadn’t been for a long time.