Bound to my Enemy-Chapter 134.

"I still should have been able to co come see you."

"Hey."

Her tone turns slightly firmer.

"You called and you check in, that’s what counts. Plus I’m doing better now so don’t bother too much."

Before I can respond, another voice suddenly shouts from somewhere behind her. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"Is that El?!"

Ivy groans.

"Oh no."

The screen suddenly fills with a familiar face leaning into the camera from the side.

"Elaine!"

"Caleb," I sigh.

My brother beams at the screen like he just discovered something exciting.

"You abandoned your family, how could you."

"I am married Caleb," I correct.

"Same thing."

Another voice joins in from behind him.

"Move, idiot."

Caleb gets shoved sideways and now Lucas is in view, squinting at the phone.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"You look alive."

"Thank you... I think?."

Lucas nods thoughtfully.

"Good."

Then Caleb pops back into the frame again.

"You owe us dinner."

"For what?"

"For disappearing on us."

Ivy sighs loudly.

"Can you two not ruin my call for five minutes?"

"No," Caleb says instantly.

Lucas smirks.

"Absolutely not."

I laugh despite myself. The familiar chaos feeling good and normal.

We talk for another ten minutes, bouncing between random topics and sibling teasing until Ivy finally groans dramatically.

"Alright, that’s enough of you people," she says.

"You people?" Noah protests, having joined the call awhile ago.

"I will call you later," Ivy tells me quickly. "Before these three start wrestling in the background again."

"Deal."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

The call ends and for a second I just sit there staring at my phone, a small smile lingering on my face.

It feels good knowing Ivy is doing better today..... better than yesterday at least.

I push myself off the bed and head downstairs.

The house is unusually quiet in this morning.

Sunlight spills through the large windows in the hallway, casting warm light across the wooden floors. Somewhere in the distance I can hear faint clattering coming from the kitchen.

That must be Martha.

The smell of coffee and something sweet baking reaches me before I even enter the room.

I step into the kitchen and immediately spot Martha moving between the counter and the stove with practiced ease.

She glances up when she hears me.

"Oh, good morning sweetheart."

"Morning."

I walk in and lean against the island, just watching her cook while we talk about random stuff, then something catches my eye.

Flowers, there’s flowers everywhere by the far end of the kitchen not just a few, the entire far counter is covered in them.

White lilies, roses and small clusters of baby’s breath tied together neatly, then several bouquets already arranged in glass vases.

I blink.

"Whoa."

Martha stiffens slightl as I walk closer, studying the arrangements.

"These are... a lot."

She doesn’t answer right away.

"Are we hosting something today?" I ask.

Still nothin so I glance at her.

Martha’s expression has shifted slightly, it’s more carefu careful now.

"That’s... not my place to say."

That only makes my curiosity spike.

"What do you mean?"

She adjusts one of the bouquets, avoiding my gaze.

"It’s something personal."

"For who?"

Silence.

"Martha."

She sighs quietly.

"I really shouldn’t."

Now I’m even more intrigued.

"Please?"

She hesitates for another second then finally looks at me

"It’s for today."

"That part I figured out."

Her lips press together briefly, then she says quietly,

"Today is the day Mr. Zane’s sister died."

The words settle heavily in the room as I stare at the flowers again.

Suddenly they make sense.

The white lilies, the careful arrangements and the sheer number of them.

"How long ago?" I ask softly.

Martha shakes her head slightly.

"I don’t know all the details."

I look back at the bouquets there must be a dozen of them at least.

All carefully prepared and for the first time since I woke up this morning... i realize why the house felt so quiet.

For a moment after Martha speaks, the kitchen feels strangely quiet

Today is the day Zane’s sister died.

I look back at the flowers again they feel... heavy somehow.

I run my fingers lightly along the edge of the counter.

"How old was she?" I ask after a moment.

Martha hesitates.

"I’m not sure exactly," she says carefully. "But she was Young. Younger than Mr. Zane."

That doesn’t tell me much but I nod slowly anyway.

"And these are for...?"

"The memorial," she answers quietly. "Some will be taken later."

I glance at her.

"Does he go every year?"

"Yes."

Her tone suggests that’s all she’s willing to say and honestly, I don’t push it. Something about the way she said it makes it clear this isn’t a conversation people in this house have casually.

So instead I reach for one of the stools and sit.

"Is there breakfast?"

Martha exhales softly, clearly relieved by the change of subject.

"Of course."

She moves around the kitchen with the kind of quiet efficiency that only comes from years of doing the same work. A plate appears in front of me a few minutes later .....eggs, toast, some fruit.

I didn’t realize I was hungry until the smell hits me again.

"Thank you," I say.

"You’re welcome."

She returns to arranging the flowers while I eat and for a while the only sounds in the kitchen are the quiet scrape of my fork against the plate and the soft rustling of stems being moved between vases.

My mind keeps drifting back to what she said. Zane has a sister or..... had one, probably around my age too.

I try to imagine it, the version of him that existed before whatever happened.

Did he look the same? Was he already this cold? And controlled? Or did something about losing her turn him into the man he is now?

I shake the thought away and focus on finishing my breakfast. There isn’t much I can do with that information anyway. Zane isn’t exactly the type to sit down and talk about his feelings over coffee.