Chapter 4

Atlas

I stared at that nursing journal all fucking night.

[Atlas actually loves Vanessa very much, but he just doesn't know how to express it.]

That line hit me like a punch to the gut. She saw right through me while I'd been treating her like some opportunistic debtor's sister. Damn it, I really was an asshole.

At seven AM, I walked downstairs and heard soft voices coming from the kitchen. Iris was discussing Vanessa's breakfast with Gerald, her voice sounding more animated than usual.

"Oatmeal with blueberries helps with memory," she was saying, "and the texture is soft, perfect for elderly patients."

I stopped in the doorway, watching her move efficiently around the kitchen. Sunlight streamed through the window, catching her hair and making the whole scene look impossibly warm.

'She really cares about Vanessa. This isn't just work for her.'

The thought made my chest tighten. I thought about all those years I'd buried myself in work, pushing all the responsibility for Vanessa's care onto Gerald. And this girl, who I'd treated like a debt settlement tool, understood Vanessa's needs better than I did after just a few days.

"Atlas?" Iris noticed me. "You're up early."

"Yeah." I cleared my throat. "Today's Vanessa's birthday. Do you... have any plans?"

Her eyes lit up like a kid getting the present they'd been hoping for.

"I was just thinking about throwing her a little party!" she said excitedly. "Nothing too complicated, just some decorations and a cake she'd like. I checked her medical files—chocolate cake should be fine."

I was about to say "whatever" and walk away, but seeing the enthusiasm in her eyes, the words twisted on my tongue.

"I'll help you set it up. She'd be happy."

Iris's eyes went wide, like I'd just said something impossible.

"Are you sure? I mean... aren't you really busy?" she asked.

"It's Saturday." I shrugged, trying to seem casual. "And it's her birthday."

Truth was, I couldn't remember the last time I'd cared about Vanessa's birthday. That made me feel like shit, but there was also this weird sense of anticipation building in my chest.

Two hours later, we stood in the party supply store while Iris picked out decorations like an excited event planner.

"Pink or purple?" she held up two rolls of streamers. "Which does Vanessa prefer?"

"What do you think?" I deflected.

"Pink," she said without hesitation. "When she was looking through photos yesterday, she always lingered on the ones where she wore pink dresses. Plus, she has that pink scarf in her room."

I watched her carefully compare balloon colors, warmth spreading through my chest. She really was observing, caring about these details.

'She's bringing warmth to this house.'

Back home, we started decorating the living room. Iris stood on a chair hanging streamers while I handed her supplies. This whole collaboration thing felt strange, but not bad.

"A little to the left," I directed. "No, too far left now."

"Are you sure you're not OCD?" She looked back at me with mock complaint in her voice.

"I just want it to look perfect."

The words came out softer than I intended. Shit, when did I start caring about the perfection of party decorations?

That's when the chair wobbled. Iris yelped, her body tilting backward. Instinctively, I caught her, her back against my chest, my arms around her waist.

Time stopped.

Her hair smelled like vanilla shampoo, her breath was right next to my ear. I could feel her heartbeat racing because mine was pounding just as hard.

She turned to look at me, our faces inches apart. Her eyes were beautiful—brown with golden flecks, wide with surprise right now.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice shaky.

I should let go of her. I knew I should let go, but my arms wouldn't move.

"You're bringing warmth to this house," I heard myself say. "Vanessa hasn't been this happy in a long time."

She blushed, red as those pink balloons we'd bought.

"She's a wonderful woman. She deserves to be treated well."

We were still staring at each other, the atmosphere getting more charged by the second. I started wondering what it would feel like to kiss her...

The doorbell rang.

We jumped apart like caught teenagers. Iris hopped down from the chair, smoothing her hair, while I pretended to be busy with balloons.

Gerald went to answer the door, and then I heard a voice I really didn't want to hear.

Karena, my stepmother, strutted into the living room wearing an expensive black suit, her gaze sweeping over the pink decorations before landing on Iris. That appraising look made me uncomfortable.

"Atlas, darling," Karena said in that fake-sweet voice of hers, "It was Vanessa's birthday, so I thought I'd come see her."

She never remembered Vanessa's birthday. This sudden appearance definitely meant trouble.

"I'm just so touched," Karena continued, surveying the room's decorations. "Atlas never cares about these things. Thank goodness for this... nursing aide."

The way she said "nursing aide" was dripping with condescension. I saw Iris's expression flicker, but she maintained her professional smile.

"I'm Iris Caldwell," Iris introduced herself. "Nice to meet you."

"Oh, of course." Karena smiled falsely. "I heard about your family's... situation. Must be difficult."

The implications in that comment were way too obvious. I was about to speak up when Karena had already turned to me.

"Atlas, could we talk privately? About Vanessa's medical arrangements."

"Now's not the time," I said coldly.

"But it's important." Karena insisted. "And this young lady probably needs a break anyway."

Her gaze lingered on Iris for a second, with that predatory look that set off all my alarms.

Before I could figure out how to refuse, Karena had already approached Iris.

"Dear, could you help me get Vanessa's gift from my car? I left it in the back seat."

It was obviously an excuse, but Iris nodded politely.

"Of course, no problem."

After she left, Karena immediately turned to me.

"Atlas, do you know what you're doing?"

"Throwing my grandmother a birthday party."

"You know what I mean." Her voice turned sharp. "That girl doesn't belong in this house."

"That's none of your business, Karena."

"Of course it's my business!" She raised her voice. "I'm part of this family, I care about Vanessa's welfare. Having a debtor's sister living here? Atlas, you're being naive."

I felt anger burning in my chest.

"She's doing better work here than you have in years."

Karena's face darkened, but she quickly regained control.

"I'm just worried you're being used. These people are very good at playing victim."

Just then, Iris returned with a small box in her hands.

"Ms. Karena, I found this in your car."

"Thank you, dear." Karena took the box, then suddenly grabbed Iris's hand. "Could I have a word with you privately?"

Without waiting for me or Iris to respond, Karena pulled her toward the garden.

I wanted to follow, but Vanessa came downstairs at that moment.

"Atlas!" She saw the decorations filling the room, her eyes lighting up. "Did you prepare all this?"

"Iris helped a lot," I said, still watching the direction of the garden.

"She's such a good girl." Vanessa sat on the sofa. "It's been so long since anyone celebrated my birthday like this."

Five minutes later, Iris came back. Her face was a bit pale, but she was still smiling.

"Is everything ready?" she asked, her voice sounding normal, but I noticed her hands were trembling slightly.

I wanted to ask what Karena had said, but Vanessa started excitedly talking about the decorations. Wrong timing.