Listen to We Don't Talk Anymore by Charlie Puth and Selena Gomez

They are back?

A sudden surge of rage, raw and primal, shot through me at the news. Tristan's back? The name alone set my heart racing, but it wasn't just anger that twisted inside me. It was something else-something darker, like fear mixed with resentment. I felt the grip of old memories tightening around my chest. Everything about him, about them, felt like a threat, a shadow looming over the small bit of peace I'd managed to carve out for myself here.

Without realizing it, my hand had curled into a fist on the table, my knuckles white, as if preparing to strike. My breath quickened, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I wanted to run. I wanted to leave, to pack up everything and disappear into the same hole I'd buried myself in years ago. Beverly Hills had never been home. And now, the idea of him being here again-the Sanchesters, that fucking name, that family-made my stomach twist with dread.

Adrian's hand landed on mine, warm and grounding, but it only made me more aware of the storm inside me. He gently pried my fist open, his voice calm but insistent. "Hey, relax," he said, his thumb brushing lightly over my clenched fingers. "I don't think he's gonna bother you. He promised to stay away. I just thought you should know."

His touch was soft, reassuring even, but it couldn't calm the storm inside me. I slowly unclenched my hand, but the feeling of pressure, of something threatening to snap, didn't leave. Adrian leaned back in his seat, his eyes scanning my face with a mix of concern and understanding.

That should've been a relief, and yet, the knot in my stomach only tightened. Tristan promised? Promises from the Sanchesters had always meant nothing to me. I'd learned that the hard way. The idea of them back in Beverly Hills felt like a ticking time bomb, waiting to go off. One of the reasons I'd come back here, had even dared to face this place again, was because Belvina and Adrian had told me the Sanchesters were never coming back. They were gone. And with them, all the fear, all the memories, were supposed to stay buried.

I tried to steady my breathing as I reached for my milkshake, bringing the cold glass to my lips in an attempt to drown out the chaos inside me. The thick, sugary sweetness slid down my throat, but it couldn't mask the unease that clawed at my insides. Adrian had said Tristan promised, and part of me wanted to believe him. But another part of me- the part that had seen the Sanchesters destroy everything in their path-couldn't let go of the fear.

I tried to push the thoughts away. Don't imagine the worst, I told myself. But the truth was, the worst was always there, lurking just beneath the surface. What if Tristan knew about Kayden? What if his family-his ruthless, powerful family-decided they had a right to take him away from me? They had money. They had influence. They could twist the law until it bent to their will. They always got what they wanted, no matter the cost. And if they wanted to take Kayden... if they wanted him back in their world of privilege and control... I knew they'd stop at nothing to do it.

The milkshake tasted like nothing now. It felt like I was drowning in my own thoughts, in a nightmare that was just beginning to wake up.

I couldn't fully trust Adrian, no matter how much I wanted to. My mind always drifted back to that night, two years ago, when Tristan called me. It was late, the phone ringing in the dark, and when I picked up, all I heard was my name-just my name, soft and distant, before the line went dead. I knew, with a sick certainty, that Adrian had given him my number. But Tristan never called again. No apology. No explanation. Just silence.

And now here I was, sitting across from Adrian, pretending that everything was fine. That the cracks in the foundation of my life weren't threatening to split it wide open.

"When are you returning to school?" Adrian asked, his voice breaking through my thoughts.

"This fall," I answered, trying to sound casual. The words felt hollow, like a weak mask for everything I was really thinking. School had been tough-exhausting even-but the thought of graduating next year gave me a glimmer of hope. If I could just get through it, secure a better job, maybe start over in New York, I could finally give Kayden the life he deserved. Away from Tristan. Away from everything that haunted me here.

I could keep him a secret. I'd done it for three years already. I'd kept him hidden from Vina, from Adrian. I could keep him hidden from Tristan too.

"If you need help, let me know," Adrian said, his voice filled with that same offer of sympathy that always made my skin crawl.

"I don't need any help, Adrian," I snapped before I could stop myself.

It was the truth, but not the kind anyone wanted to hear. People liked to think I was drowning, that I needed saving. It was like they pitied me for some reason, like I was some tragic figure that needed fixing. And I hated it. I'm fine, I wanted to scream. I've been fine for years. But I couldn't say that. Not out loud. So instead, I just ignored Adrian's skeptical look and focused on the bottom of my nearly empty cup, trying not to let the tension show on my face.

"Chlo," Jules's voice cut through the silence as she approached our booth.

I looked up and saw her-her cornrows braided tight, each one adorned with little wooden beads that clinked softly with every step. I'd known Jules for a few months now. She had this no-nonsense attitude about her, and the kind of raw energy that made her hard to ignore. She caught Adrian's glance before turning back to me.

"Sorry to interrupt your date," she said, with a playful smirk. "I'm leaving. Just wanted to know if you had your key."

"Yeah, I do," I replied, my tone light.

"Okay. Good night," she said, waving at both of us before turning to leave.

Once she was gone, Adrian and I exchanged a look, and before I knew it, we were both laughing. It was absurd, really. We never corrected her. Maybe it was easier to let her think what she wanted. It was easier than explaining the mess of what we were, or what we weren't.

We talked a little more, and then decided to leave, the conversation slowly dying as we slipped into the car.

"Why are you still single?" I asked, the question hanging between us, like it had been there for a while, just waiting to be said.

"I should ask you that too," he shot back, giving me a sideways glance as he drove.

"I have commitment issues and trust me, I'm loving the single life."

I meant it, too. There was no way I could ever let anyone in again-not with the secrets I carried. Not with the life I'd built around keeping Kayden safe. Adrian wasn't someone I could trust with that, not even if he promised to keep quiet. I didn't trust anyone with that part of me. Not even Vina. The only person who knew the truth, the full truth, was Mrs. Porter. And I planned to keep it that way.

"Ditto," Adrian said with a heavy sigh, making a quick U-turn down my street.

I could tell he wasn't satisfied with my answer, but he didn't press. He didn't need to.

But as we drove through the familiar streets, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for him. I'd seen how hard he'd been taking the whole Karen situation. He'd been burying himself in work, dating random women, using them to fill the empty space where something real used to be. I wasn't sure if he even knew he was doing it. But I knew. And I felt sorry for him, even though I wasn't sure he'd ever admit it.

The silence stretched between us as we neared my house, the sound of the engine humming like a distant heartbeat. I knew he was trying to distract himself, just like I was.

My apartment wasn't far from the diner-just a few blocks, really. Some nights, I walked home, letting the cool air pull me into a temporary kind of peace. The city streets were eerily quiet at this hour. The streetlights loomed overhead, hungrily swallowing the last of the darkness with their cold, artificial glow. The sidewalks below were bathed in small pools of white light, each circle casting long, restless shadows across the cracked pavement. The world felt suspended in that in-between space-neither night nor day, just lost.

"How's Vixen?" Adrian asked, breaking the silence between us, and I couldn't help but laugh. He meant Vina, of course. Always with the nickname, even though it drove her crazy.

I chuckled, shaking my head as I gazed out the window. The street seemed almost as lonely as I felt. It didn't make sense, how she'd gone from fangirling over Adrian to outright despising him. It wasn't even a gradual thing-it had been sudden, explosive. I remembered the first time he came over to our apartment. Vina had looked him dead in the eye and said, "I hate you." Just like that. No buffer. No warning. I wasn't sure if it was just because of what happened with Tristan-or if there was more to it. What I did know was that Vina hated Tristan more than I did. More than anyone did.

"She's good," I finally answered, my voice softening as I thought of her. "She's starting work next week."

I was proud of her. In a way, Vina had always been my anchor, even when I didn't want her to be. She'd finished her degree-Bachelor of Science in Nursing. She was the first in her family to graduate college, and despite everything, I could see the quiet pride in her eyes when she spoke about it. She was going places. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to catch up to her, but I was happy for her. So damn happy.

"Nice," Adrian said, his tone carrying a strange edge. A smile, almost forced, tugged at his lips. I knew it wasn't really nice. He wasn't exactly Vina's biggest fan either. They'd spent most of their encounters locked in some petty argument-over nothing, really, but it was enough to create a constant tension between them.

"Thanks for bringing me home," I added, trying to shift the mood.

"Anytime," he replied, but his voice softened, almost tender. "You know you can still have one of my cars."

"Nah." I shook my head. "I enjoy the walk. It's good for me." I said it lightly, but it was the truth. Walking was a way to clear my head, to feel a little less... trapped. "Make sure you get some rest," I added as I opened the door.

He didn't respond right away, his gaze lingering on me as I stepped out. "Tell Vixen I said hi," he said, his voice a little quieter than usual.

"Will do." I gave him a wave, a half-smile tugging at my lips. If only Vina would let me say his name without scowling at the mere mention. But she wouldn't. She wasn't ready for that. She might never be.

I walked toward the building's entrance, lifting my head to the cool night air, forcing myself not to think about the weight of my secret. I wasn't ready to tell Vina about Kayden, not yet. Not when I still wasn't sure what I was doing. I would never be the perfect mother. I didn't know if there even was such a thing. But I was doing what I thought was best-keeping him safe, keeping him out of the reach of people like Tristan, like the Sanchesters. I missed him, every second of every day. The ache inside me was a constant, gnawing presence. But I couldn't risk Vina finding out. Not yet.

I rode the elevator up, standing silently next to a woman with a little girl. The child couldn't have been more than four, her big dark eyes wide and curious as she stared at me. I smiled at her, offering a soft wave. She smiled back and ran to her mother's side. For a moment, I wanted to reach out to her. I wanted to hold her and kiss her forehead like I did with Kayden, but I couldn't. It was a wish that was too far out of reach.

I stepped off the elevator quickly, as if rushing to leave the thoughts behind. The hallway felt too quiet, the air thick with expectation, like the house was waiting for something.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the soft creak of the wood beneath my feet almost comforting. I stretched, letting my body release the tension that had built up from the walk and the drive, but even that didn't help much. The apartment felt empty-like it always did when Vina was asleep. I didn't know if she was awake or not, but it didn't matter. I needed to be alone.

I stretched again, trying to force my thoughts out of my head. I wasn't ready to unravel tonight. Not yet.

"I can't believe you're still hanging out with him," Vina's voice was sharp, cutting through the silence as soon as I stepped into the living room. Her words were a jolt to my already frayed nerves.

I set my bag down with a sigh, feeling that familiar weight settle on my shoulders. "Adrian is a nice guy," I said, already bracing myself for the argument I knew was coming. The one I'd had a hundred times before.

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing in that way she did when she was about to launch into one of her tirades. "He's probably feeding that asshole information about you."

I couldn't help the bitter laugh that slipped out. "Like what? That I'm a waitress? A housekeeper? That my life is falling apart?"

She didn't flinch at my sarcasm. Instead, her gaze grew more intense, her words colder. "I'm just saying, don't trust him. He's still best friends with Tristan."

I felt my stomach twist at the mention of his name-Tristan. The name alone was enough to make my blood run cold, and the thought of him knowing anything about me, about Kayden, was enough to make my skin crawl. But I wasn't about to let Vina win this time.

"He's not as bad as you think, Vee," I said, though the words felt hollow even to me. I could hear the doubt creeping in, and I hated it.

I turned away, the tension thick in the air. I wasn't in the mood for this. Not now. Not ever.

∆

The next few hours passed in a blur of cleaning and silence. Mrs. Carter had given me more rooms to do today, as if she'd sensed my mood and decided to pile on the work to see how much I could take before I cracked. I was convinced she didn't like me-probably because I wasn't some perfect little robot who did her bidding without question. But I needed the money, so I kept my mouth shut and did the work.

During my break, Mrs. Porter called. Her voice on the other end of the line was as familiar as the sound of my own heartbeat. "Chloe," she said softly, "I just left for the Clinic with Kayden. His annual physical."

The words hit me like a punch in the gut. I knew what she meant-the worry, the unspoken fear that hung over every visit. The doctors had told me, ever since I'd found out I was pregnant, that my drinking could affect his health. It could even put him at risk for problems that I couldn't undo.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to fight off the tears that threatened to spill over. I'd stopped drinking a month after I found out I was pregnant, but I couldn't erase the damage I might have already caused. The thought of something being wrong with Kayden because of my mistakes-because of me-broke me in a way I couldn't put into words. I loved him too much to watch him suffer. The very idea of it made my chest feel like it was being crushed under the weight of a thousand bricks.

A sob choked its way up my throat, but I stifled it, pressing my fist against my mouth to keep the sound from escaping. I didn't want anyone to hear me fall apart. I couldn't. Not here. Not now.

"Are you okay?" Malva's voice was soft, concerned, and I hated that she'd seen. I hated that I couldn't hide the storm inside of me.

I wiped my eyes quickly, forcing a smile that felt like it was carved out of stone. "Yeah. My eyes are just itchy," I lied, my voice shaky as I tried to regain some semblance of composure.

Malva didn't look convinced, but she didn't press. Instead, she gently suggested, "Maybe you should get them checked."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Maybe," I murmured, though I wasn't sure what she meant. My eyes weren't the problem.

I forced a smile again, this time a little more real. Malva was one of the few people here who actually saw me for who I was-not the spoiled rich girl who'd fallen from grace, but a woman trying her best to survive. She made me feel normal, and in a world that seemed determined to remind me of everything I had lost, that felt like a rare gift.

When I'd first started working here, I'd kept to myself, pushing everyone away, terrified of being exposed. Malva and Donia hadn't let me hide forever, though. They kept trying, gently but persistently, until I gave in. And now, they were some of the only people I trusted. They didn't judge me-they just accepted me. For who I was, for what I was doing. That meant everything to me.

I watched Malva go back to her work, her presence leaving a strange warmth in the cold, sterile air. I envied her simplicity-how she didn't have to carry the weight of a thousand secrets.

Mrs. Carter's unexpected generosity was both a blessing and a curse. She dismissed some of the staff early, and, as always, I was the first to go. I stared at her retreating back, unsure what to make of the sudden shift in her usual icy demeanor. I had been expecting the usual extra hours, a subtle punishment for my perceived shortcomings, but instead, she surprised me by letting me go. I had no idea what to do with this freedom, but I couldn't waste it. I needed to see Kayden.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Mrs. Porter's number. The line rang a few times before she answered, her voice soft and steady despite the weight of the day.

"We're still at the clinic" she said. "Why don't you meet us here?"

I could hear the background noise-Kayden's muffled cries, the hum of fluorescent lights, and the hushed voices of nurses. My heart tightened in my chest at the thought of him upset. I didn't ask any more questions. I hung up and grabbed my purse, changing quickly from my housekeeper uniform into a yellow floral dress. I brushed my fingers through my short hair, hoping it would calm the mess of emotions tangled in my chest.

The cab ride to the clinic felt like it took an eternity. My mind raced with thoughts I didn't want to face-of Kayden, of the doctors, of what this meant for his health. I wasn't sure what to expect, but my gut churned with dread. The clinic had a smell I couldn't place-sterile, clinical, but it still carried a weight of something darker, something unknown.

I made my way up to the second floor, and as soon as I entered the room, I heard him. Kayden's wailing cut through the sterile air, a sharp cry that tore at my heart. My stomach dropped.

I rushed to his side, my feet moving without thinking. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his face flushed from tears, his little hands balled into tight fists. Without a word, I knelt in front of him and gently wiped away the tears staining his cheeks. The soft scent of baby lotion mixed with antiseptic filled my nostrils as I pulled him into my arms. He clung to me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse with concern, my hands trembling as I held him close.

Mrs. Porter explained, her voice filled with a tenderness that only made the situation more heartbreaking. "He was running around the room, making so much noise. I picked him up to calm him, but he just wanted to keep going, wanted to keep running."

I felt a pang of guilt. Kayden had always been full of energy, a little ball of light that couldn't stay still for a second.

"Kayden," I whispered softly, holding him tighter. "That's not okay, baby. You can't run around like that in the hospital. It's dangerous. I'll take you to the park, okay? You can run all you want there."

His small arms tightened around my neck, his tiny face pressed against my shoulder as if to say, I'm sorry, Mama. I felt my heart break a little more. He was just a child, too young to understand the weight of the world around him.

"Where's the doctor?" I asked, my hand running through his soft hair, the comfort of his warmth against me grounding me in this moment.

"He left not long ago," Mrs. Porter said. "He'll be back soon."

I nodded absently, my mind still on Kayden, still racing with thoughts I couldn't catch. As I held him, his breath began to slow, and before I knew it, he had fallen asleep on my shoulder, his little body limp in my arms.

I didn't want to move. I just wanted to stay like this forever, with him safe in my arms, with nothing but the soft rhythm of his breathing and the sound of my own heartbeat to comfort me. But time, like always, couldn't be stopped. The doctor came back shortly, and we spoke briefly about Kayden's health. The appointment had been short, but my mind felt heavy with all the unspoken fears.

We left soon after, Mrs. Porter excusing herself to fetch the car while I stood outside, my back leaning against the cool brick of the hospital. Kayden was still asleep on my shoulder, his little hands clinging to my shirt as if he knew-somehow-that I would keep him safe.

The cold air nipped at my skin, but I barely noticed. I was numb to everything except the weight of him in my arms. I felt like I was walking through a dream, the world around me muted and distant. I didn't want to let go of him, not now. Not ever.

The streets were quieter than usual, the soft hum of the city a faint murmur in the background. I could feel my pulse quicken as I waited for Mrs. Porter, my thoughts turning to what lay ahead. Was I doing enough for him? Was I enough?

I couldn't answer. The weight of the question pressed too heavily on my chest, and the silence around me seemed to stretch into an unbearable eternity. All I could do was hold him tighter, hoping that my arms could somehow shield him from everything-the world, the past, the things I couldn't control. I wanted to freeze this moment, to let time stand still, to keep him safe, to protect him from the shadows of my mistakes. My breath hitched as I pressed my cheek against the top of his head, the soft scent of baby lotion grounding me in the present.

The hospital parking lot felt endless, and my gaze wandered absently across the street. Across from the hospital, the glow of the mall's bright neon lights flickered, casting long, unnatural shadows across the pavement. My eyes caught a familiar shape, and for a split second, it felt like time had slowed to a cruel crawl.

Morris.

He was sitting behind the wheel of a sleek, black Porsche, looking exactly the same. His brown hair, still neatly combed, the clean lines of his jaw, the familiar straight line on his lips that had always annoyed me. But it wasn't just Morris that made my heart freeze in place. It was the person who appeared from the entrance of the mall-Tristan.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as I watched him, carrying two gift bags, looking like he hadn't aged a day. He was different. He wasn't the boy I once loved, but he was still him. My breath caught in my throat, and my pulse pounded in my ears as I instinctively turned away. My stomach twisted into painful knots.

Morris had seen me. There was no doubt about it. His face had gone blank for a second, the surprise evident in his eyes. Then Tristan's presence seemed to pull him from his daze, and I quickly faced the other direction, clutching Kayden even tighter.

Please, please don't notice me, I begged silently, pressing my lips together. My heart hammered in my chest as I imagined what might happen if Tristan walked over, if he saw me here, if he saw me with Kayden. It was like I was caught between two worlds: the life I had tried so desperately to build and the one I had left behind. The one that still haunted me.

I shut my eyes for a moment, praying for the universe to give me this one favor. My mind raced with the worst-case scenarios-what if Morris told him? What if Tristan remembered me?

A long minute passed. It felt like an eternity. I dared a glance behind me, only to see the black Porsche pulling away, the headlights briefly casting a shadow on the sidewalk before disappearing down the street.

My breath, which I hadn't realized I was holding, rushed out in a relieved sigh. The knot in my chest loosened, but it didn't go away. I felt drained, like every ounce of energy had been stolen from me. Still, I was grateful for the silence that followed. It felt like a reprieve.

Mrs. Porter arrived a few moments later, her voice calm as always, though I could tell she'd been in a rush. She mentioned a car had delayed her. I barely processed her words, too preoccupied with the brief encounter that had just unfolded. I placed Kayden in his booster seat and fastened the belt with trembling hands. My heart still thudded in my chest, but I forced my focus elsewhere.

The car's engine hummed to life, and I glanced around once more before slipping into the passenger seat. I couldn't shake the feeling that someone, somewhere, was still watching me.

That was close.

∆

A week had passed since I almost ran into Tristan. A week of living with the sharp edges of fear that still hadn't dulled. I couldn't escape the sensation that I was being pulled back into a life I didn't want. But maybe Morris hadn't told him. Or maybe he hadn't recognized me. It didn't matter. What mattered was the panic that had set in, the tightness in my chest that hadn't fully gone away. I didn't know if I could face him again, not after everything, not after all the secrets I'd buried so carefully.

The weight of that dread lingered, and I knew I hadn't shaken it off. It had become part of me, like the ache in my bones I couldn't escape. But today, I was determined to focus on Kayden.

It was Sunday-our usual routine. The only day of the week I truly had for him, a full day with no distractions, no worries. Just me and him, spending the whole day together, the way it should have always been. Today, I was going to take him to the park.

I had to stop by Mrs. Porter's first to borrow one of her cars. Her garage was full of them-five cars, each more luxurious than the last. She was a widow, a wealthy one, who lived her life with the grace of someone who had everything she needed but nothing she truly wanted.

The drive was peaceful. I squinted against the sunlight, the warmth filtering through the car windows, the soft hum of the radio filling the space between us. Kayden, sitting in the back, giggled as I blew him a kiss through the rearview mirror. He bounced in his seat, his joy infectious, and I couldn't help but smile. I hadn't smiled much lately, not with everything weighing me down, but in this moment, with him-my little boy-I felt a fleeting sense of happiness. It was enough.

We arrived at the park, and I let him loose, his tiny hands pulling at mine as he raced toward the open space. The riverbank was just ahead, and I could see the gleam of excitement in his eyes as he spotted the sparkling water. Without a moment's hesitation, he broke free and started running, his laughter filling the air like a sweet melody.

I watched him with a tenderness I couldn't explain, feeling my heart swell with love. It was a relief to see him happy, to watch him play with a puppy that ran toward him from an elderly lady nearby. The puppy was small and white, its fur soft and fluffy. Kayden crouched down, his chubby fingers gently stroking its fur, his giggles contagious.

I reached for my phone, feeling the need to check in with Vina. She'd be wondering where I was-she always did. I'd left the house while she was still asleep, and I knew she'd start asking questions, start making assumptions about me. She'd probably think I was seeing someone.

I wasn't sure if I was ready for that conversation. Or any conversation, for that matter.

I typed a quick message, feeling a pang of guilt at the lie I was about to tell. I didn't like lying to her, but I didn't know how to tell her the truth, either. That part of my life-the one with Kayden, the one I was building for him-felt so far removed from everything she knew. I wasn't ready to share it with her, not yet.

Just as I hit send, I heard a voice behind me. A voice that made my blood run cold.

"Cassie?"

I froze.