Chapter 59

The knock on the door rattled Sienna out of her daze.

"Open up!"

It was Maeve.

Hours ago, in a moment of desperation, Sienna had called her. She hadn't even expected Maeve to pick up—she was supposed to be hiking halfway up a mountain—but she had. And now, dusty boots and all, Maeve was here. A flicker of gratitude so strong it made Sienna's throat ache.

Sienna wiped her face quickly, but it was pointless. Her eyes were red, her nose stuffy, and she probably looked like she'd gone ten rounds with a hurricane. Still, she shuffled to the door and opened it.

Maeve stood there in hiking boots, dusty leggings, and a messy braid, looking every bit like she'd just descended from a mountain. Backpack slung over one shoulder, car keys in hand, she took one look at Sienna and frowned.

"Pack a bag," Maeve said without ceremony, stepping inside.

Sienna blinked. "What?"

"You're coming with me."

"Maeve, I—"

"Nope. Not up for discussion." Maeve dropped her backpack with a thud and strode into Sienna's bedroom. "I'll help you pack if I have to."

Still dazed, Sienna grabbed a tote and shoved in random clothes. She barely processed what she was doing. Moving her hands was easier than thinking.

Ten minutes later, Maeve ushered her into the passenger seat of her battered SUV, tossing the tote in the back like a sack of potatoes.

"We're going to my place," Maeve said, pulling into traffic. "Boyfriend's away on a business trip. We'll have it to ourselves."

Sienna nodded mutely, clutching her hands in her lap.

The drive blurred past, neon signs and brake lights bleeding together. When they reached Maeve's apartment—a cozy, sunlit place that smelled faintly of fresh laundry—Sienna stood frozen just inside the door.

Maeve dropped her keys into a dish by the counter and turned to her. "Okay," she said, voice gentler now. "Talk."

Somehow, those two words broke her wide open.

Sienna crumpled onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. The sobs started low, then ripped through her like a storm. Maeve sat beside her, saying nothing at first, rubbing slow circles on her back.

When the worst of it ebbed, Sienna gasped out, "He cheated. He... he got someone else—pregnant."

Maeve's mouth tightened. She pulled Sienna closer, heart twisting.

"I knew it," Maeve said quietly, almost bitterly. "I knew something about him was off."

Sienna hiccupped. "He said he didn't even remember it happening," she mumbled. "He said he was drunk... that it was just one night... he doesn't even know how it happened."

Maeve's jaw clenched, but her voice stayed soft. "That doesn't make it hurt less, Si. Not remembering doesn't erase what he did."

Sienna wiped her face, her voice wobbling. "I don't think he meant to hurt me. He was trying, Maeve. Maybe he just made one terrible mistake."

Maeve exhaled slowly, her edges softening. "Maybe he didn't mean to. But you still got hurt, Si. And that matters too. It's okay to remember the good parts... but it's also okay not to excuse the bad."

Sienna cried harder. "I love him so much, Maeve."

Maeve tucked a strand of hair behind Sienna's ear. "I know you do. And that's okay. But if it hurts too much... it's also okay to hate him for a while. Bring out your anger, your sadness—whatever it is. You don't have to be strong all the time."

Sienna hiccupped again, miserable. "But it hurts, Maeve. It hurts so much."

"I know, Si. I know." Maeve squeezed her hands. "You loved with everything you had. It wasn't thrown back in your face because you weren't enough. It was because he wasn't enough."

Sienna wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, sniffling. "I don't even know who I am without him."

Maeve smiled a little, brushing Sienna's hair back like she used to when they were kids. "We're gonna get through this."

"We?"

"We," Maeve confirmed. "You're not doing this alone."

She squeezed Sienna's hand again. "Listen, Si. If what he said is true—if it really was just one terrible mistake—you don't have to decide anything today. You two can figure it out later, when you're ready. Right now, you just need to heal."

Later that night, after Sienna finally drifted into an uneasy sleep on the couch, Maeve padded into the kitchen. She rummaged through the cabinets and fridge, smiling when she found exactly what she needed.

The next morning, Sienna woke to the smell of something warm and familiar wafting through the apartment. She blinked blearily and followed it to the kitchen, where Maeve was standing at the stove, flipping pancakes.

"You made banana pancakes?" Sienna croaked.

Maeve grinned over her shoulder. "Just like when we were kids. You always said they could fix anything."

Sienna's throat tightened, fresh tears threatening—but this time, not the hopeless kind. She crossed the room and hugged Maeve from behind, holding on tight. The scent of banana pancakes pulled a memory from deep inside her—Maeve making a stack of them after Sienna failed her first math test in fifth grade, telling her that pancakes made anything better.

Maybe she was still broken. Maybe the pieces were still sharp. But she wasn't alone picking them up.

After breakfast, Sienna sat with her phone in her lap, staring at it for a long moment before finally dialing the office.

When the receptionist answered, Sienna cleared her throat. "Hi, it's Sienna. I need to take a break."

There was a pause. "Sienna, you can't just take a break like that—"

"Tell Cassian," Sienna cut in gently but firmly. "He'll be the one to tell you the reason."

Another beat of hesitation, then a reluctant, "Alright. I'll inform him."

Then the receptionist added, "For how long, Sienna?"

Sienna closed her eyes, drawing a steadying breath. "Indefinite," she said.

She ended the call with a shaky sigh and put the phone down. Her shoulders slumped, the weight of everything settling heavier over her. She rubbed her temples, feeling the exhaustion seep into her bones, and barely noticed the cup of coffee in front of her growing cold.

Maeve, sitting across from her with a fresh cup of coffee, gave her an approving nod. "Good girl. One step at a time."