When Her "Death" Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel)

"Could I at least see you now?" Charlotte asked shyly. "Just a glimpse."

Sven scanned the ward-white walls, IV stand, the faint odor of antiseptic-and decided she must never know he was still here.

"I'm quite busy. Can we video chat tonight instead?" he asked, gentling his voice.

"Of course. I'm heading to work anyway, and I'll tell Boss you're safe so she stops worrying, too."

Sven nodded even though she couldn't see it. "All right."

Neither wanted to end the call, yet they did. Moments later, Charlotte told Cecilia about what had happened to Sven.

Cecilia's first reaction was shock; once the facts settled, she said, "So you can finally breathe again, right?"

Charlotte answered with a relieved nod. "Yes. I'm done worrying."

Lately, Charlotte had been drifting through her nights in a haze-sleep never stayed long enough to settle, and when dawn finally nudged the curtains she felt more tired than before. The weight of it showed in the bruised half-moons under her eyes and the way her shoulders curled inward, as if she were trying to hold the world in place by sheer will.

"Still, I'm honestly scared, Boss. What if I'm simply not good enough for him?"

There had been a time when she thought she and Sven were equally matched in status

cracked. Sven's family now lived in a different sphere entirely, wrapped in ease and influence, while she remained the daughter of very ordinary parents, her pockets stitched with

whether two people match isn't measured by family ledgers. If you truly care for each other, the rest of it-status, money, pedigree-becomes background

nodded hard enough to make her

added, soft but decisive. "Let the doubts

embarrassed by how sentimental she had grown lately-so tangled in worries that

you, Boss." The words came out small yet

Cecilia replied, a quiet smile

sky, slow and endless. Within minutes, roofs, streetlamps, and the narrow lane outside the boardinghouse wore thick white coats, muffling every sound until the city breathed like a sleeping animal.

town, Magnus lugged

slept curled beneath a quilt that did little against the draft creeping

eased the door shut, switched the heater on, and set it beside her bed. A dull-orange glow spread across the frosty room; warmth followed

cheeks, coaxing pink into the pallor. She blinked awake, brow furrowing at the unfamiliar

did that come

While unpacking take-out boxes

Magnus spoke in a hushed rush. "I bought it this morning. When you stumbled in before dawn, you

hard thought king so

The

The appliance store guy tried to sell me an air-conditioner, but he swore this heater