The next morning, Luna stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open, the dim sunlight filtering through gauzy curtains. She blinked slowly, her vision adjusting—this wasn't her home.
Her body felt heavy, but her fever had faded slightly. Then she realized—they were still holding hands.
As the memories of the stormy night came flooding back, she quickly pulled her hand away from Alex's. She couldn't remember anything after she had fainted in the rain. Her thoughts raced. She stood up abruptly.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
The sound startled Alex awake. His eyes opened to find Luna standing beside the bed, her posture stiff, her gaze sharp.
What did you do to me?" Luna asked, her voice cold and accusing. "Did you… rape me? Or do anything else to me? Why are my clothes changed? Why am I even here?"
Before she could spiral further, Alex stepped toward her and gently placed his hand over her mouth—not forcefully, but firmly.
Luna's breath caught. Her cheeks flushed red. She froze.
I didn't touch you," Alex said, his tone steady but soft. "I didn't even consider it. Your clothes were changed by my cook—Mrs. Leanne, an elderly lady. You can verify her identity if you'd like."
His words were clear, precise. "You fainted in the rain. I took you to my house because your emergency contact didn't answer. I had no other choice. I called the doctor. That's all."
Luna stared at him. She could see the truth in his eyes. His voice carried no lies—just calm sincerity.
Her expression softened.
I… I'm sorry," she said quietly, guilt rising in her voice. "For how I spoke to you last night… and just now."
Alex gave a small nod.
"I'll return your clothes once I've washed and dried them," Luna added, regaining her composure.
You can keep them," Alex said simply. "They're yours now."
"No," Luna replied firmly. "Either I'll pay for them, or return them."There's no need to pay," Alex replied. "Just return them if you'd like."
Okay," she agreed. "I'll bring them back the day after tomorrow. Could I have your number?"
Alex gently took Luna's phone, typed in his number, and saved it.
As they headed downstairs, the doorbell continued to ring. Luna opened the door.
Standing there was Mrs. Leanne, the elderly cook.
Good morning, dear one," she greeted warmly. "You had a fever last night. Are you feeling better now?"
Luna's heart softened instantly. Mrs. Leanne's sweet, concerned smile melted her cold exterior.
I'm okay now," Luna replied gently, offering a small smile of her own.
Alex came down the stairs and handed Luna the medicines the doctor had left.
What was the bill?" Luna asked. "I'd like to pay for it."
"You can pay me when you come to return the clothes," Alex replied with a slight smirk.
Luna nodded in agreement.
Alex returned her phone, wallet, and the soaked dress she had worn the night before. Luna looked at him once more—his quiet presence, his unwavering respect. There was a strange, unspoken feeling blooming in her chest.
A feeling she refused to admit.
She took a deep breath and turned to leave.
As she stepped inside her own apartment, her neighbor—her dear grandmother-figure—rushed to greet her.
"Where did you go after the party, Luna? I called you so many times. You didn't answer. Why are your clothes changed? Did something happen to you?"
Luna was taken aback by her concern. But she couldn't tell her the truth.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around her and whispered, "I'm okay, Granny. I'm always fine."
"You're sure?"
"I am," Luna lied softly. "Actually… I met a friend. She invited me to her place. She just wanted to show me her new car. Nothing serious."
Her voice hesitated as she spoke, and the lie tasted bitter on her tongue. But the old woman nodded gently, believing her.
She handed Luna a plate of warm pancakes.
Luna took them with a grateful smile, retreating to her home.
She carefully washed the clothes Alex had given her, hung them out to dry, and sat by the window—lost in thought.
Her fingers brushed the phone he had touched.