Page 102 of Shattered By Grace

"Okay, no. That’s not fair. You’re telling me he’s not just stupidly hot but also domestic? Does he also rescue puppies and read poetry in his free time?"

Victoria snorted. "I wouldn’t be surprised at this point. He has a book corner in his room with a leather chair and shelves full of books overlooking the woods"

Taylor made a strangled noise. “Girl, you’re done for. Just go ahead and send me the wedding invite now.”

Victoria’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not.”

“Mhmm. That’s what they all say right before they fall madly in love.”

Victoria flopped back onto the couch with a groan. “I hate you.”

“No, babe. You hate that I’m right.”

Victoria laughed, but then her gaze flickered to the dryer, and she smirked. "Oh, and you’re gonna love this. Tristan has a jar full of names and numbers by his dryer."

"A JAR? Like… a trophy case for his conquests?!"

"That’s what I thought! But no, it’s just his system for tracking who’s left their number with him. You know, to return lost items."

Taylor cackled. "Please tell me you put my number in there."

Victoria grinned. "Already done."

"You’re the worst."

"I know."

But as their laughter faded, Taylor’s voice softened. "Vic… be honest. What’s going on between you two?"

Victoria hesitated, staring at the spot where Tristan had been just moments ago. She could lie. She could brush it off.

Or she could admit the truth, whatever the hell that even was.

“I wish I knew.”

Chapter Forty-Six

The weight of another long day pressed on Victoria’s shoulders as her footsteps echoed in her apartment’s entryway. The familiar hum of the city felt strangely distant after everything that had happened—the gym, the fight, Tristan. It had been four days since that night, and somehow, life was starting to slip back into its usual rhythm. Or at least, it seemed to be.

When she reached her door, something caught her eye. A single rose lying on the doormat, its petals deep red and fresh, as though it had just been picked. Beside it was a small envelope, its edges crisp and clean.

She stopped, heart hammering in her chest for reasons she couldn’t quite explain. For a moment, she just stared at the rose, the quiet presence of it sending a rush of memories through her mind.

Tristan.

With a sigh, she knelt down, picking up the rose first, the cool stem cold against her fingers. She smelled it without thinking, the fragrance both soothing and strange, like an echoof something she couldn’t place. Then, her gaze shifted to the envelope.

Her name was scrawled across it in black ink, the handwriting unmistakable.

She turned it over, her fingers trembling slightly, then slid the paper open, half-expecting it to be some cryptic message from him, but what she found instead made her heart skip.

A simple note:

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the letter, the weight of it settling over her. It had been four days since they had shared those quiet, tangled moments, and still, he found a way to invade her space and her thoughts.

For a brief, irrational second, she wished she could just ignore it, to turn the note into another small thing that didn’t matter. But she knew better. Because Tristan didn’t do small gestures. Not like this.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, shattering the moment. She pulled it out, and her heart stopped.Tristan.

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