Nora

I sat as still as I could manage. Fork in hand. Toast untouched.  

The table was nice. Long, heavy, probably custom-built, just like everything else in this house. It smelled like lemon polish and new money. 

Across from me, my father was answering emails like it was a board meeting. He’d always been composed. Now he was just distant. To my left, his wife, kept her tone light and breezy, like she was trying out for the role of Warmest Stepmother in a mid-tier drama series.  

And to my right...  

Axton.  

He hadn’t looked at me since he walked in. Not really.  

He’d acknowledged me, yes. Sat across the table like I wasn’t throwing the entire household equilibrium off-balance.  

But he didn’t see me. Not as a person. More like a complication.  

I could feel it in the way he avoided my gaze. The way his jaw clenched slightly every time his mother said my name.  

Fine. If he wanted cold, he’d get colder.  

“So,” she said, stabbing a piece of fruit with her fork like it had personally offended her, “do you have any plans for today, Nora?”  

I gave a shrug. “Not really. Just trying to settle in. Unpack. Figure out the rhythm of the place.”  

“Oh, of course. If you need anything, just ask. The cleaning staff usually finishes by one.”  

Cleaning staff. Right. I wasn’t used to houses that came with invisible people tidying up behind me.  

I nodded once. “Thanks.”  

Axton shifted slightly, his chair creaking. He hadn’t eaten much, but I noticed how his fingers curled around the edge of the table, tight, like he was bracing himself.  

"Maybe take some time to relax," she continued. "The pool should be ready by this evening. They drained and cleaned it yesterday."  

I tilted my head. "There’s a pool?"  

She smiled like it was a selling point. "Of course. Indoor, heated. It’s behind the glass doors past the sunroom. Use it anytime."  

"Sounds good," I said. And it did. Not because I cared about swimming but because it gave me a place to not be around these people for a while.  

My father finally looked up from his tablet. "Just don’t push yourself too hard. This is a big change. For everyone."  

Everyone.  

I nearly rolled my eyes but I kept my face neutral. 

"I’ll survive."  

There was another silence. Not hostile. Just thick with things not said.  

I finished half a piece of toast before pushing my plate away. "Thank you," I said. "I think I’ll go back upstairs for now." 

I stood. Axton didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at me. But I caught the subtle shift in his posture. Like he was aware of every move I made.  

I left the room without looking back.  

—

Upstairs, I sank onto the edge of the bed and stared at the walls of my temporary space. My suitcase was still half-zipped, clothes spilling out in soft piles. I didn’t want to unpack yet. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay yet. But I knew one thing for sure. 

Axton Trent didn’t like me.  

Good. Because I didn’t like him either.  

He was cold, dismissive, borderline rude. He made it obvious I was an interruption to his carefully curated life.  

And yet...  

He didn’t scare me.  

In fact, part of me felt like poking the edges of whatever he was hiding.  

Maybe later, I would. But for now, I needed space. I needed water.  

Maybe tonight, I would go to the pool.  

Not to relax.  

To breathe. To float. To feel in control.  

Even if it’s only for a little while.