He listened to the faint click of the door as Rachel left, the silence settling in like a heavy blanket. He exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of everything that had happened since the accident. Tomorrow, his entire life was going to be on display—his name, his new identity, his forced connection to Rachel.
He moved to the bed, still dressed, and sat down on the edge, running his fingers along the crisp, cold sheets. A part of him wanted to reject it all, to walk out of the mansion and disappear into the night. But another part, the part that felt raw and broken, knew he had no choice. Not anymore.
Outside, the city lights flickered like a distant memory of a life he no longer had. He wondered if anyone would notice him tomorrow—if his old friends would see the headlines, if his best friend who betrayed him would even care. He tried to picture what it would feel like, walking beside Rachel in front of cameras, pretending they were a perfect power couple.
After a long moment, he leaned back against the headboard, closing his eyes. Tomorrow wouldn't be just about pretending. It would be about surviving.
And surviving meant he had to stay one step ahead.