A Kiss For Three

chapter 28

The hotel room in Stamford smelled like old carpet and fake lavender. The curtains didn’t close properly, the radiator hummed too loud, and the silence pressed like a weight on my chest. It was the kind of place people stayed when they wanted to disappear—and for me, it was perfect.

I tossed my bag onto the chair, then collapsed on the bed without even changing my clothes. The ceiling stared back, pale and cracked. Every breath echoed too loud in the stillness. I should have felt relieved, maybe even safe. Instead, I just felt hollow. The kind of hollow that rang if you tapped it—proof there was nothing left inside to break.

I wondered what Adrian and Nico were doing right then. Were they at dinner together, talking about work? Or maybe at the rooftop, our rooftop, with takeout and beer, waiting for me to show up like I always did? Were they worried yet—or angry? Maybe Daniel had told them I left. Maybe they had gone to my office and seen the empty desk, the cold coffee cup I hadn’t finished. I pictured Adrian pacing, phone in hand; Nico staring at the door like it might learn manners and open. The images hurt.

I rolled onto my side, pulling the blanket over my head, trying to smother the thoughts before they took over. They found a way in anyway, crawling through the cracks of my mind. Somewhere a pipe clanged, a train whistle bled through the window, and it all sounded like goodbye.

I closed my eyes, and the city faded away.

When I dreamed, I dreamed of them.

We were on the rooftop again—our safe place, our secret world. The sky glowed deep violet, and fairy lights hung above us, flickering like stars. Pizza boxes and half-empty bottles were scattered across the table, and Nico’s phone stood propped up, playing some ridiculous movie none of us were really watching.

I was wrapped in a blanket between them. Their laughter vibrated against my shoulders. The city breathed below us—alive, endless, far away.

Adrian’s hand found mine under the fabric. Warm, steady. Nico’s followed, rougher, his thumb tracing small circles on my palm. I clutched their fingers tightly, afraid that if I let go, they would disappear with the night.

They shared a look over my head, a silent exchange I didn’t fully understand but felt down to my bones. Then Adrian leaned in. His lips brushed mine softly, hesitantly, like he was testing if the world would end if he did.

It didn’t.

When he pulled back, his hand slipped through my hair, fingertips gentle against my scalp. My heart raced. I turned to Nico. His gaze was molten in the flicker of the lights, his lips parted as if caught between a smirk and a sigh. He didn’t hesitate. His kiss was firmer, more certain, but just as careful. His hand cupped my chin, tilting my face slightly toward him.

Adrian’s breath ghosted against my ear as Nico kissed me, and something inside me unraveled. My hands trembled. The night hummed like it was alive, holding its breath with us.

Then, everything faded. I woke with a start.

My heart pounded, my lips still tingling from a dream that felt too real, too close. The room was cold and empty. The space beside me untouched. I stared at the ceiling again, the cracks still there, mocking me.

It was just a dream.

I repeated it to myself until it sounded almost believable.

Dragging myself out of bed, I pulled on jeans and a sweater, ignoring the ache in my chest. My hair was a mess; my reflection in the mirror looked like someone who had been haunting herself for too long. I pressed cold water to my eyelids until the sting passed and the stranger blinked back into me.

I left the hotel and walked aimlessly through the morning fog. The streets were nearly deserted, the world muted to gray. I lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around my face. It burned my throat, but it was the only warmth I had left. A church bell tolled somewhere behind the mist; the sound felt like a verdict.

When my phone buzzed in my pocket, I didn’t even check who it was. I already knew.

Still, my hand betrayed me—I answered. “Yeah?”

Daniel’s voice crackled through the static. “Just checking if you’re alive. Stamford, huh? Cozy.”

I laughed weakly. “If by cozy you mean depressing, sure.”

He hesitated before asking, “They texted me. Nico and Adrian. Asked if I knew where you were.”

I froze mid-step. “And you told them?”

“I said you needed space.”

“Good.” My voice softened. “Thank you.”

He sighed. “You gonna tell them why you left?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Just a sharp exhale. “I can’t.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Didn’t think so.”

I hung up before he could say anything else. Because if he kept talking, I’d start crying, and if I started crying, I’d never stop.

I finished my cigarette and flicked it into a puddle. The ember hissed out, just like everything else.

***

By the time I got back to the hotel, my hands were numb from the cold, and my mind felt foggier than the streets outside. I stopped at a vending machine near the lobby, grabbed a bitter coffee in a paper cup, and climbed the stairs back to my room.

Each step echoed too loud. I felt strange—like the world was tilting slightly under my feet. A housekeeping cart stood abandoned by the ice machine, a TV murmured through a wall, and somewhere down the hall a baby wailed like it knew my name.

When I reached my door, I fumbled with the keycard and pushed it open.

And then I froze. The coffee slipped from my hand. It fell, but before it could hit the floor, someone caught it.

“Careful,” a familiar voice said. “Though, you’d never been that careful ever, anyway.”

I looked up. Nico stood there, his hand still wrapped around the cup, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. Adrian was beside him, leaning against the window, arms crossed, eyes soft but unreadable.

My throat closed up. The room felt smaller, the air thicker.

“Nico,” I managed to whisper. “Adrian. What were you—how did you—”

Adrian raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think we’d let you vanish that easily, did you?”

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

The paper cup still trembled in Nico’s hand, steam curling between us like smoke from a fire I thought I’d put out.