At the Bar
"Where are you going?" Reed asked, eyes narrowing as he caught Alder's purposeful stride.
"To talk to Willow," Alder replied, voice low but determined. He added, "Didn't you ask me to take a step forward?"
"I did, but not in this manner. You're a little tipsy… things might end up escalating," Reed warned, stepping closer, trying to intercept him.
"It's not as if I'm going to beat her up," Alder replied with a crooked smile, though the fire burning behind his eyes said otherwise.
"This can wait till tomorrow," Reed pressed, lowering his voice.
"Can it?" Alder asked, one brow raised, a spark of defiance in his gaze.
—
At the bar, across the room
Flora sat slumped in her chair, her fingers playing with the rim of her glass. The strained look on her face betrayed how unwilling she was to be here — likely dragged out by Elowen and Meadow.
"Flora, can you cheer up a little?" Elowen asked gently, leaning toward her.
"I know it's not easy, but can you just forget about that jerk?" Meadow added, her tone sharper.
"I just love him too much… even that Willow can't love him like I do," Flora whispered, voice cracking as unshed tears shimmered in her eyes.
"We know you love him, but he doesn't love you the way you do," Meadow sighed, giving Flora's hand a squeeze.
"Why can't he? I'm not less in looks than Willow! I can offer him more. I can give him anything he wants. I can make him happy. So why does he love Willow?" Flora's voice broke as tears spilled over, her shoulders trembling.
"Can you stop crying and stop thinking about this man? I know you love him, and it hurts seeing him love another, but still — you have to continue your life without him," Meadow urged.
"But I can't seem to love him less. So how can I stop thinking about him? How can I continue my life without him?" Flora asked, voice small, as she took another sip of her drink.
"So what do you plan to do now? Drown yourself in sorrow forever while he showers love on that Willow?" Elowen asked, brows furrowed.
"I love him so much, and I will get him, no matter what the obstacle might be," Flora declared, her eyes fierce through her tears.
"Flora, are you okay?" Meadow asked warily.
"Even when he won't love you?" Elowen added softly.
"Yes. I can't live without him," Flora said firmly.
"You heard him declaring his love for that Willow on national TV, right?" Meadow asked.
"So? Our wedding was also on that national TV but was broken too," Flora replied bitterly.
"Then let's make plans to remove Willow from his life," Meadow said, leaning in closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "And make him feel what it's like not to be able to be with the person you love."
"What are you suggesting, Meadow?" Elowen asked, anxiety lacing her voice — she had always been the timid one among them.
"Just teach her a little lesson," Meadow replied, eyes narrowing.
"How?" Flora asked, her fingers tightening around her glass.
"If we hurt Willow, do you think Alder will still be with her?" Elowen asked, pointing toward Flora.
"That is, if he knew who hurt his beloved," Meadow replied coolly.
"I don't care about the method. All I want is Alder," Flora declared fiercely.
As they kept talking, Elowen suddenly straightened and pointed. "Isn't that Reed?" she asked.
They all turned their heads to see Alder walking out of the bar with Reed.
"What is he doing here?" Meadow asked, annoyed — she had always liked Alder, but now she found him infuriating for breaking her friend's heart.
"Flora, where are you going?" Elowen called, seeing Flora hastily gathering her things.
"To talk to Alder," Flora replied and ran out, her friends calling after her as they hurried to follow.
By the time they got outside, they only found Reed — and a car leaving the bar premises.
"Flora?" Reed called.
"Where's Alder?" Flora asked urgently.
"He left," Reed replied, pointing at the taillights vanishing down the street.
Elowen and Meadow arrived breathless.
"He left," Flora repeated softly, deflated.
"I'll take my leave too," Reed said, giving them a nod before heading to his car and driving off.
"Flora, can you stop acting this way?" Elowen pleaded. Though she understood her pain, she didn't want Flora to lose herself over a man who didn't love her.
"I want to," Flora replied hollowly. "Let's go back."
"But we just got here," Elowen protested.
"Let's go," Meadow said, glaring at Elowen, and they left.
—
Willow's house
Willow sat curled on the couch, knees pulled up beneath her oversized white sweater, her bare legs peeking out from the bum shorts. A cold draft brushed over her skin, but she barely noticed.
For three days now, she had been calling the realtor. The two houses she bought — one of which had been used to imprison Alder — remained unsold. And now she's really in need of money.
"Sir, can you be fast about it, please," Willow said into the phone, her voice tense.
"Miss Larkspur, can you see it's late in the night?" the realtor replied.
"If I were buying a house, it wouldn't be late. But if I'm selling, it's late?" Willow asked flatly.
"That's not what I'm saying, Miss Larkspur," the man sighed. "Actually, the houses' locations won't make it easy for us to get buyers."
"I understand, but please… I really need to sell one of them," Willow said, her voice softening.
"Okay. No problem," the realtor said, mostly to make her end the call.
"Thank you, sir. I'll call you first thing tomorrow morning — remember to pick up," Willow said firmly before ending the call.
She sighed, popped a pill from her medication bottle, and took a bite of a cookie.
Her apartment was dark-themed—black curtains, black chairs, black wall art. Only the walls were white, which made the rest of the darkness more dramatic
"Life is lonely," she murmured to no one.
Her life had always been quiet, colorless — except for the Smith siblings. Without them, she wouldn't have tasted happiness at all.
She was dying. But who would mourn her?
Would anyone visit her hospital bed? Would anyone lay a black rose — her favorite — on her grave? Would anyone shed a tear?
Her thoughts spiraled. Maybe she should just end it now. Perhaps she could frame her father for her death — revenge for herself and the child she lost.
Suddenly her phone rang, jerking her from her spiraling thoughts.
Alder.
His name flashed on the screen.
She had saved his number on hers when she had his phone with her before
Her heart seized. She jumped, eyes wide, before nervously sinking back down.
Before she could pick up the call ended
Was it a mistake?
The phone rang again, and this time she picked up fast.
"I'm at your gate," Alder's deep voice came through the line — and then the call ended.
Her breath caught. He's here? Why?
Willow rushed downstairs.
Her rented apartment required verification before anyone could enter — part of why she chose it, to keep her father and his family at bay.
When she reached the gate, Alder stood there against his car, head lowered, his long hair falling over his face — even like this, he looked devastatingly beautiful.
What was he thinking? Her heart hammered.
She swallowed hard and approached. "Alder."
He looked up, eyes unreadable. "Can we talk inside your house?"
His voice was calm, but something burned beneath it.
Wordlessly, Willow nodded and led him inside, her pulse racing.
At the door, she punched in the passcode. The lock clicked open, and they entered.
"Welcome to my humble abode," Willow said nervously, avoiding his gaze.
Alder glanced around. Black — everywhere. Black curtains, black chairs, black accents against stark white walls.
She's still the same, he thought. His gaze flicked to a small plate filled with cigarette butts on the table.
Some habits die hard. He thought
"Willow," he called softly.
She turned.
He stared at her, words failing him. So many questions. So much unresolved.
But one truth rang louder than the rest — he wasn't leaving without her again.
Alder crossed the space between them in a heartbeat and crushed his lips to hers.
The kiss was searing — not gentle, not polite — a collision of regret and longing.
Willow gasped in surprise but melted into him, matching his passion with her own.
Alder's hand slid to her upper thigh, gripping it firmly as he lifted her effortlessly.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, arms twining around his neck, as he carried her toward the couch.
Lowering her gently, he came down on top of her, never breaking the kiss.
Time stilled. There were no words, no explanations — just two desperate souls clinging to each other.
Alder finally broke the kiss, trailing his lips down her neck — soft, wet kisses tracing the sensitive line to her shoulder, to her collarbone.
Willow moaned softly, arching beneath him. When his mouth returned to her earlobe, sucking lightly, her breath hitched.
The tension grew unbearable.
Alder paused. His voice rough. "Should I continue?"
Willow panted, struggling to catch her breath. A thousand emotions swirled in her chest.
But all she could manage was a whispered, trembling:
"No…"