Page 77 of Shattered By Grace

Victoria exhaled sharply. “Do we have any more wine?”

Taylor didn’t answer right away. Instead, she studied Victoria with a look that was equal parts concern and knowing. “You’re deflecting.”

“I’m adapting.”

A slow smile spread across Taylor’s face as she shook her head, pushing herself up and disappearing into the kitchen. A moment later, she returned with an open bottle of red, dropping down beside Victoria again.

Victoria lifted her empty glass without a word, and Taylor filled it to the brim before pouring her own.

“To bad decisions, questionable taste, and men who should come with warning labels." Taylor muttered, raising her glass.

Victoria huffed out a breath, tapping her glass against Taylor’s. “Cheers.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the night settling between them. The revelation of the murdered judges still lingered, but neither of them seemed ready to pick at that thread just yet.

Taylor finally spoke, swirling the wine in her glass. “You know, I don’t get it.”

“What?” Victoria lifted a brow, taking a slow sip.

“The whole thing with Tristan. He’s gorgeous but a complete ass, plus don’t get me started on this twisted triangle of his father. Do you think he knows about your dad?”

The question landed heavy, pressing against something in her chest.

Victoria rolled the stem of her glass between her fingers, gaze fixed on the deep red swirl inside. “I don’t know,” she admitted, and that was the worst part.

Taylor hesitated, then asked, her voice edged with nervousness, “When are you going to tell him your true name and who you are?”

Victoria’s fingers tightened around the glass. The question wasn’t unexpected, but hearing it out loud made it feel heavier, like something tangible pressing against her chest.

She exhaled slowly, tilting her head back against the couch. “I don’t know that either.”

Taylor didn’t push, but the silence between them spoke volumes.

Finally, Taylor let out a breath, knocking her glass lightly against Victoria’s. “Well, whatever happens, I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks.”

With that, the conversation drifted into easier territory. Mindless girl talk, half-hearted gossip, and exaggerated rants about the men in their lives. The wine dulled the edges of reality, letting laughter slip between the cracks of the night’s tension.

At some point, the exhaustion caught up with them. Victoria wasn’t sure when she ended up curled up on the floor, her head resting on a throw pillow, but she felt the warmth of Taylor beside her, the quiet hum of the city beyond the window lulling them both into a dreamless sleep.

For tonight, that was enough.

The rich scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the living room, pulling Victoria from the depths of sleep. Blinking against the morning light, she stirred, slightly disoriented until the memories of last night settled back in. Wine, laughter, and eventually passing out on the floor with Taylor.

When she sat up, a dull ache pulsed behind her eyes, making her wince. Her head was heavy, her body sluggish, but something else caught her attention. The wine glasses were gone. The papers that had been scattered around their feet were now neatly stacked on the dining table.

Before she could process it, Taylor’s voice cut through the haze. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Victoria turned, finding Taylor in the kitchen, looking way too put together for someone who drank just as much as she did.

Taylor held up two Tylenol and a glass of water. “Took the liberty of cleaning up. Coffee’s almost ready.”

Victoria groaned, reaching for the pills. “What time is it?”

“Mmm… close to ten-thirty.”

Victoria sighed, swallowing the Tylenol. “Way too early.”

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