Apocalypse Queen: My Space, My Rules Chapter 248: One-Sided Flame

"Deputy Captain, I think you've misunderstood me." Mariella finally drew the line. "I'm really not as... untamed as you seemed to believe. I chose Captain Zimmer because I like him more. That's all. Not choosing you doesn't mean you fall short. It just means we don't fit. And you don't need to regret not confessing sooner. If I had feelings for you, I would've said something myself. I was the one who made the first move with him. That's how we ended up together."

Number One went rigid. The light behind his eyes guttered and died.

Mariella knew she was hurting him. But this kind of thing... If you didn't cut it clean, if you left a thread of hope dangling, it would only ruin him.

At best, he'd twist in the wind, overthink every glance, every silence. At worst, it would poison their teamwork.

Chandler lifted his chin slightly, his gaze sharpening as it settled on Number One. "What happened tonight stays buried. You don't bring it up again. And if you try something like this again, sneaking around, making a move on my fiancée, I will beat the lesson into you myself. One on one. Until you remember."

Number One's lips pressed together. His chest rose and fell in ragged, uneven pulls.

Chandler turned and guided Mariella back toward No. 98. She walked a few steps, then stopped and looked over her shoulder.

Number One's gaze, dull and ashen a moment ago, sparked back to life.

"As long as you stay here," Mariella said, "you'll be taken care of. And when you meet someone you like, I'll help with the wedding expenses." She didn't want him withdrawing his effort over a misunderstanding. So she offered him a future incentive.

The spark in Number One's eyes died again. This time, what remained was not ash but a dead, flat emptiness.

"I understand." He nodded once, then stepped past them without another word, heading straight for the entrance.

He reached the door before they did and pressed the bell.

Matthew opened the gate. He looked at Number One for a moment, his expression difficult to read. Something between sympathy and resignation.

Number One kept his head down and walked inside without speaking.

By the time Mariella and Chandler reached the door, Matthew had already stepped aside.

He glanced at the two of them, gave a small nod, and said nothing.

Mariella caught the look in his eyes and understood immediately. He had seen everything through the doorbell camera.

At least Matthew knew how to keep his mouth shut. That secret wouldn't travel.

...

Once they were inside the courtyard, Mariella felt it: eyes crawling down from the second-floor windows. Shadows shifting behind curtains.

So you like gossip, do you? She filed that thought away for tomorrow morning. Extra duties. All around.

Chandler took her hand openly, lacing his fingers with hers, and walked her across the courtyard and into the house as if it were a declaration in itself.

They went upstairs together. When they reached her bedroom door, he let go.

Without looking at her, he continued down the hall toward his own room.

Mariella stopped, watching his back. Waiting. Curious what he was about to pull.

He opened his door and went inside, but left the door open.

She stood there for a long moment.

She hadn't planned to indulge him tonight. But the absurd confession scene earlier had left her feeling oddly guilty.

Though she couldn't quite say why.

A moment's hesitation. Then she followed.

The door closed behind her.

One by one, the doors along the hallway cracked open. Teammates leaned out, exchanging looks.

Tonight, it was the Deputy Captain who had gone out with Ms. Townsend, yet it was Captain Zimmer who came back with her.

Deputy Captain went to his own room alone. Ms. Townsend went into Captain Zimmer's room.

It didn't take a genius to know what happened. Ms. Townsend wasn't interested in the deputy after all.

Number One was spending another night nursing a one-sided flame.

...

What Mariella didn't tell anyone was that giving in to Chandler once in a while paid back more than it cost.

He moved with easy confidence, hips loose, steps sharp, shifting from one rhythm to another like it was second nature. She shouted herself hoarse watching him. And then he sang the song she'd been turning over in her head for weeks.

"This world of dust and hunger, chasing and being chased, we drift, we sink, and half a lifetime's gone.

"You want me to drink alone from this bitter cup, let the night wind be my company, fight loneliness with my bare hands?

"That half-healed wound that never really closes, it keeps time with the ache of remembering. So I pour for you instead, this same bitter cup, dare you to taste it, let the wanting stretch out past the horizon..."

...

Mariella stared at him, genuinely stunned. "You learned that already? Just like that? Your voice is incredible! And the dancing? You look trained."

Wasn't he supposed to be a retired special operations soldier? Why did this feel more like watching someone who'd stepped off a stage?

Chandler caught her confusion and answered with quiet simplicity. "My mother used to perform."

The last piece clicked into place. Mariella laughed softly. "That explains it. You've got fundamentals. This isn't something you picked up off the street."

Then, after a brief pause, she added, more gently, "So... how is she now?"