Morning
Eleanor's alarm blared at six, but her hand moved before her mind did. She silenced it, promising herself "five more minutes." When she opened her eyes again, sunlight had already spilled through the curtains.
"Shit—" she whispered, scrambling out of bed. Her head pounded, her muscles ached, her body begging her to stop doing this to herself. She had slept only three hours after slipping out of Gabriel's apartment at dawn.
At the supermarket, the manager scowled at her when she clocked in late. "Again, Eleanor? Customers don't wait for dreamers." His voice was sharp, and she bit her tongue. Apologies spilled out, as they always did. She worked faster, stacking cans, bagging groceries, plastering a weak smile on her face.
Her hands trembled while scanning items. Coffee was the only thing keeping her upright.
But in her chest, beneath the weariness, hope flickered. Gabriel needs me. He'll see one day. He'll tell the world about me. I just have to keep going.
---
Evening
By the time she finished her restaurant shift, her legs felt hollow. She had taken an extra table when a coworker begged, even though she could barely carry the trays. The tips weren't much, but every coin mattered. Every bit she saved could go to gifts for Gabriel, or maybe one day, to a dress worthy of being seen by his side.
On her break, Eleanor sat in the staff corner, scrolling her cheap phone. She opened Instagram—a guilty habit. She followed fan accounts, hoping to see new photos of Gabriel, pretending it was a way of being close.
That's when she saw it.
A tagged photo. Posted just hours ago.
Gabriel, still in his concert glow, his arm brushed against Olivia's as they leaned close in a dimly lit bar. Olivia was laughing, her hand resting casually on his arm. Someone had captioned it: The chemistry is undeniable! with a row of heart emojis.
Eleanor's heart lurched violently.
Her first instinct was denial. It's just the angle. He probably didn't even know she was there. Fans always twist things. He loves me. He tells me with his silence, with the way he lets me in at night.
But her fingers wouldn't stop trembling as she zoomed in on the photo. Gabriel wasn't looking at the camera. He was looking at Olivia, eyes warm, lips curved in that rare, unguarded smile Eleanor had never seen directed at herself.
Her throat closed. She set the phone down, pressing both hands against her face. No. No, I mustn't think like this. He's mine. He lets me touch him. He whispers against my skin. He needs me.
But the image burned itself into her mind.
---
The Walk
At dawn, after her shift, Eleanor didn't go home. She walked straight to Gabriel's apartment, her small paper bag of offerings clutched tightly—leftover bread rolls from the restaurant, a chocolate bar bought with tip money.
Her legs dragged, her vision blurred, but her heart thudded with something new. Not just longing—fear.
When she reached his building, the security guard recognized her. He didn't stop her anymore. Gabriel had let her through too many times. She slipped inside, climbed the stairs, and stood outside his door.
Her hand hovered before she knocked.
If I ask, he'll laugh. He'll say I'm being silly. He'll explain it away. I just have to hear it from him.
Her knuckles rapped the wood.
---
Inside Gabriel's Apartment
Gabriel opened the door shirtless, hair damp from a shower. He smiled faintly, that lazy curve that once made her knees weak.
"Ellie," he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
Her chest ached at the sound. She lifted the bag shyly. "I brought you something."
He took it, glanced inside, and set it on the counter without comment. His apartment smelled faintly of cologne and wine.
"Long night?" he asked, stretching.
Eleanor stared at him, her hands twisting. The words burned in her throat.
"Gabriel…" Her voice shook. "Do you… know Olivia?"
The question hung in the air like a blade.
For the first time, Gabriel faltered. His eyes flickered, just for a second, before he masked it with a chuckle. "Of course I know her. She's part of the industry. We run into each other at events."
Eleanor's stomach twisted. She wanted to believe him, to fall into the safety of his easy tone. But that photo wouldn't leave her mind.
"She was at your concert," Eleanor whispered. "In the VIP section. And… I saw a picture. You were with her after."
Gabriel tilted his head, watching her. Something sharp glinted in his eyes. Then, smoothly, he stepped closer, brushing his fingers along her jaw.
"Ellie," he said softly. "You're tired. You're working yourself to death. Don't let gossip get into your head. You know me. You know us."
Her knees weakened under his touch. A sob nearly escaped her throat. Yes. He's right. He wouldn't lie. He lets me stay. He needs me.
But deep inside, a voice whispered: Why won't he just say she means nothing? Why won't he promise me?
She opened her mouth to ask again, but Gabriel kissed her. Firm, silencing, desperate. His mouth swallowed her doubt.
And Eleanor let it. She let herself be crushed under the weight of denial, her tears mixing with his kiss.
---
Gabriel's Thoughts
Later, when Eleanor finally drifted asleep curled against him, Gabriel lay awake, eyes open to the ceiling.
He hadn't planned on the photo surfacing so soon. Olivia's laugh, her touch, still lingered on his skin.
But Eleanor… Eleanor was convenient. Blind with devotion. She never left, never questioned, except tonight—and even then, he had shut her doubts with a kiss.
He stroked her hair absently, whispering in his mind: She'll forgive anything. That's why I'll never let her go.
Yet even as he thought it, his phone lit up on the nightstand. A message from Olivia.
Breakfast tomorrow?
His lips curved. He typed back: Wouldn't miss it.
---
Ending
At dawn, Eleanor walked home again, her body aching but her heart repeating a single mantra:
"He still loves me. He does. He's just misunderstood. He'll never leave me."
But her phone still burned in her pocket with the image of him smiling at Olivia—a smile she had never owned.
The first crack had spread wider.