The next morning, Ella stirred awake to the muted light seeping through the heavy curtains. Her body still ached, but the pounding in her head had dulled, and she no longer felt feverish. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she slowly sat up, surprised to find herself alone. The room was still and quiet, save for the faint sounds of birds chirping outside the window.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, testing her balance. A little shaky, but manageable.
The door creaked open, and Nicholas stepped inside, carrying a tray with a bowl of soup and a glass of water.
"You're awake," he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"I feel better," Ella said quickly, eager to assert herself before he could fuss over her again. "Thank you for everything, but… I need to go home."
Nicholas's smile faded, replaced by a frown. "No. You're not ready."
"I am," she insisted, standing on unsteady feet. "I can't stay here forever. Ryan will notice I'm gone."
Nicholas set the tray down and crossed his arms, studying her. "You're still pale."
"I'll survive," she said stubbornly, grabbing the back of a chair to steady herself.
Nicholas sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "You're impossible."
Ella offered a weak smile. "I've been called worse."
He shook his head, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Fine. If you're determined to be difficult, I'll take you home."
Relief flooded her chest, and she started for the door, but he held up a hand.
"Not so fast. You're not walking all the way there alone. I'm driving you."
She hesitated, chewing her bottom lip. "But… could you maybe not drop me off right in front of the house?"
Nicholas's brow lifted. "Why?"
Ella fidgeted. "I don't want Ryan to see. It'll just cause… complications."
Nicholas's mouth curved into a knowing smirk, but he didn't argue. "Sure, Ella. Whatever you say."
Half an hour later, after she managed to pull on a loose sweater and leggings Nicholas had found for her, they were in his sleek black car, rolling down the quiet streets toward her house. Ella kept glancing nervously out the window, her hands twisting in her lap.
When they reached the street, she pointed to a corner a few houses down. "Here's fine," she said hurriedly.
But Nicholas didn't slow down.
"Nicholas!" she hissed, panic rising.
He chuckled lowly and pulled right up to the curb in front of her house, ignoring her protests. Before she could scramble out, he cut the engine and got out of the car, walking around to her side.
Ella's heart slammed against her ribs as he opened the door for her like a perfect gentleman. Before she could react, he leaned down and pulled her into a hug — warm, firm, steady.
Her entire body froze.
Nicholas wasn't the hugging type. Teasing, smug, infuriating? Absolutely. But this? This was something else entirely.
The scent of his cologne—fresh and crisp—wrapped around her as surely as his arms did. For a moment, she was too stunned to move, caught off guard by the sudden tenderness of the gesture. Her hands hovered awkwardly at her sides before she finally, shyly, patted his back once.
Nicholas pulled back slightly, a teasing smile playing on his lips as if he knew exactly how much he had just thrown her off-balance.
"Take care of yourself, Mrs. Hart," he murmured under his breath, voice deep and warm.
Ella stared up at him, speechless. Before she could even form a response, he was already stepping back toward the car.
Dazed, she turned and made her way up the path to the front door. She fumbled with the key, her mind still whirling, before finally managing to get inside.
The door clicked shut behind her, and she let out a shaky breath, leaning back against it.
"Where the hell have you been?"
Ella's head snapped up to find Ryan standing at the base of the stairs, arms crossed, his face twisted in barely restrained fury. His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping the banister.
Her stomach dropped.
This was not going to end well.