Morning arrived softly in the Vale house.
Not with noise or rush, but with pale light slipping through tall curtains and settling gently across Juliette's room. The rain had stopped sometime before dawn, leaving the air cool and clean, the world outside muted and still.
Juliette woke slowly.
Her body reminded her of everything at once.
The soreness in her ribs.
The dull ache behind her eyes.
The lingering weakness that made even breathing feel deliberate.
She lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the house.
Alive.
Safe.
Home.
And then memory caught up with her.
Not the accident.
But him.
Cassian's arms around her in the car.
The way he had held her like she might disappear.
The low, steady sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
Her fingers curled slightly into the sheets.
She swallowed.
You're forgetting yourself again, she thought.
Juliette turned her face toward the window, forcing herself to breathe evenly.
Since the accident, something had shifted between them.
She knew it.
He spoke to her more.
Checked on her.
Sat close enough that she could feel his presence even when he said nothing.
And she God help her had responded.
She had softened.
Smiled without meaning to.
Answered him gently.
Let herself believe, even briefly, that she mattered.
That was the problem.
She closed her eyes.
You're not allowed to forget, she reminded herself.
Not when you already know where you stand.
The image came uninvited, sharp and cruel in its clarity.
The boutique.
The polished mirrors.
The soft laughter.
Cassian relaxed, unguarded standing beside another woman like that was where he belonged.
Happy.
Juliette's chest tightened.
She pushed the blanket back carefully and sat up, pausing when dizziness washed over her. After a moment, it passed. She moved slowly, deliberately, refusing to call for help.
She didn't need saving.
Cassian was already awake.
He stood near the tall windows in the living area, phone in hand, quietly finishing a call when he heard her footsteps. He turned instinctively.
Juliette had changed into a simple cotton dress, loose and pale, her hair pulled back softly. She looked smaller than usual, like the house could swallow her if it wanted to.
"You should still be resting," he said, ending the call without looking back at his phone.
"I am," she replied. Her voice was calm. Polite. "Just… not in bed."
She walked carefully to the sofa and sat, folding her hands in her lap.
Cassian watched her.
Something about her felt… different.
Not distant exactly.
But measured.
He brought a glass of water and her medication without comment, setting them on the table in front of her.
"Thank you," she said.
She met his eyes when she spoke.
And that was what unsettled him.
Before the accident, she avoided his gaze like it burned.
Now, she looked at him calmly openly but with something guarded behind her eyes.
She took the medicine obediently, sipping water slowly.
Cassian sat across from her.
"You slept?" he asked.
"A little," she answered.
Not cold.
Not warm.
Just… careful.
He frowned faintly.
"You're feeling better?"
"Yes." A pause. Then, softer, "A bit."
He nodded.
Silence followed.
Not uncomfortable.
But not easy either.
Juliette adjusted the blanket over her legs, suddenly aware of how close he was. Her mind betrayed her again remembering his arms, his voice, the weight of his concern.
She stiffened inwardly.
Stop, she told herself.
Don't do this.
She lifted her chin slightly, her voice gentle but firm.
"I don't want you to worry too much," she said. "I'm okay."
Cassian's gaze sharpened.
"I'll decide that," he replied quietly.
She smiled.
A small smile.
A controlled one.
"I know."
And then she looked away.
That smile hurt him more than silence ever could.
Later, when Maya brought breakfast, Juliette ate slowly, forcing herself to finish even when her appetite disappeared halfway through. Cassian watched the entire time, pretending not to.
She caught him once.
Their eyes met.
She didn't blush.
Didn't look embarrassed.
She simply said, "I'll eat more later."
And he believed her.
That was new too.
After breakfast, Juliette retreated to her room again, claiming fatigue. Cassian let her go, though something inside him resisted.
When she was alone, she sat on the edge of her bed and pressed her palm lightly to her chest.
Why did you let yourself forget? she asked herself.
She had been talking to him like this soft, open since the accident.
Like the space between them had narrowed.
Like she wasn't just a name he carried.
And that scared her more than pain ever could.
Because she knew how easily she could disappear again.
She lay back slowly, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting back to the boutique.
She hadn't imagined it.
The way he smiled.
The ease in his posture.
The way the woman touched his arm like it belonged there.
Juliette squeezed her eyes shut.
I don't fit in that world, she thought.
I never did.
Her phone buzzed softly on the bedside table.
A message from Cassian.
Let me know if you need anything.
She stared at the screen for a long moment.
Then typed back:
Thank you. I will.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
She set the phone down, her heart aching with restraint.
That evening, Cassian knocked on her door before entering.
A courtesy he hadn't practiced before.
She was sitting up, reading slowly.
"Am I disturbing you?" he asked.
"No," she replied. "Come in."
He did.
He stood near the door for a moment, then moved closer, adjusting the lamp so it wouldn't strain her eyes.
"You've been… quiet today," he said carefully.
She looked up at him.
"I thought you liked quiet."
A beat.
He almost smiled.
"Not this kind."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the book.
She closed it and set it aside.
"I'm just tired," she said. "That's all."
Cassian studied her face.
She looked calm.
Composed.
Too composed.
"You don't have to be strong all the time," he said.
She met his gaze then steady, searching.
"I know."
But the words that followed stayed trapped in her chest.
If I let myself lean into this… I'll forget again.
She smiled faintly instead.
"I'm going to rest."
Cassian nodded, stepping back.
As he reached the door, he paused.
"Juliette."
She looked up.
"Yes?"
He hesitated.
Then said quietly, "If something is bothering you… I'd rather know."
Her heart skipped.
Just once.
But she shook her head gently.
"There's nothing," she said.
He left.
The door closed softly behind him.
Juliette lay back against the pillows, staring into the dim light.
And somewhere deep inside her chest, she made a decision.
She wouldn't pull away completely.
She wouldn't be cruel.
But she would remember who she was in his life.
And she would not let herself forget again