"I'll have the saxophone sent over right now."
Ethan's voice was cold, unwavering, as he moved toward the door.
Lily stood frozen.
Her hand moved before she could think.
Fingers wrapped around his wrist, firm, confident.
This time, she didn't let go.
They stood back-to-back, neither turning, neither speaking.
He laughed.
It was quiet, smug, victorious.
Ethan's fingers spread, wrapping around her smaller hand, his other arm slipping around her shoulder.
His chin brushed her head as he murmured, "Be good. Get treated."
Lily didn't answer.
She didn't say yes.
She didn't say no.
Because, in the end, when had she ever really had a choice?
Ethan always decided things for her—their breakup, their reunion.
Was this how it worked? Just like that, they were back together?
"Go shower."
With a gentle push, Ethan nudged her toward the bathroom.
Lily sighed but obeyed.
Steam curled around her as she sank into the warm water, letting it soak away the tension in her muscles.
