No Rest For The Fallen
The nightmare hit like a freight train. Sharp, cruel, and far too familiar.
Caitlyn jolted upright, lungs gasping like she’d clawed her way out of smoke. Her fingers tangled in sweat-drenched hair, limbs trembling, heart pounding like gunfire in her chest. The room was still, but her pulse roared louder than any silence could contain. No matter how many nights passed, the past still knew how to find her.
Tears pricked at her eyes. Hot, bitter things, but she didn’t let them fall. She'd trained herself too well for that. Still, the lump in her throat betrayed her, sharp and aching like a shard of glass wedged beneath her ribs.
Two years. That’s how long it had been. But some wounds didn’t dull, they just settled deeper.
That night still lingered like smoke in velvet halls. The opulence. The hush of a crowd turning cruel. The moment Maddie’s voice chilled to ice, calculated and unrecognizable. And Caitlyn, left standing under the spotlight, stripped of every illusion. A hollowed-out version of the woman she used to be.
She had stood by Maddie through every scandal, every boardroom ambush, every carefully buried fallout. She gave her loyalty. Her time. Her name.
And Maddie tossed it all aside. For Margot.
Caitlyn collapsed back against the pillows, jaw clenched. The sheets were cold. Unforgiving. Like the world outside her windows.
She told herself she was over it. Stronger now. But the dreams didn’t care. The memories didn’t ask permission.
Even Margot’s name cut like a blade. Polished. Icy. Rumor had it she came from nothing. A janitor’s daughter, someone who scrubbed the Nolen floors long before she walked them in heels. No legacy, no pedigree. And yet somehow, she’d wormed her way into Maddie’s life with the ease of someone who knew exactly how to replace someone.
Replace her.
As if Caitlyn Kiramman had never mattered at all.
A knock rattled against the door, soft at first. Then louder. More insistent. The kind that didn’t ask, but demanded.
Before she could move, the door burst open.
“Seriously?” Jayce’s voice sliced through the quiet. “I’ve been knocking for, like, ten years.”
Caitlyn blinked, still caught in the remnants of her dream. Jayce stood in the doorway, haloed by the hall light, arms crossed, his usual blend of smugness and concern painted across his face.
“You’re really doing this again?” he said, stepping inside without hesitation. “It’s two in the afternoon. Are you planning to sleep through the collapse of civilization?”
She groaned and curled into the blankets like a hangover. “Five more minutes.”
“You’ve had five days.” He yanked the covers off with practiced flair. “Up.”
“Jayce—”
“Nope. Not today.” He grinned. “You’re not rotting in bed while the city burns.”
Somehow, he was still here. When the socialites had scattered like flies, when Margot took the stage, when her name stopped opening doors, Jayce stayed. He didn’t care that she wasn’t the Nolen wife-to-be anymore. Didn’t care about the headlines or the whispers.
He cared about her.
The real her. The Caitlyn behind the curated suits and champagne smiles. The one no one else had bothered to stick around for.
When the tower crumbled, and Maddie replaced her like a broken part in a machine, everyone else vanished. Their loyalty had been to her proximity, to power, to prestige. Not to her.
Caitlyn used to think she had control. That as long as she played her part, nothing could touch her.
But it had. It had.
And maybe she wasn’t just a victim of it all. Maybe she’d helped build the cage that eventually trapped her.
Jayce's voice cut through again, light but tinged with concern. “Cait. You spacing out on me again?”
She blinked, forced a half-smile. “You said it’s two… but I’m pretty sure this room still thinks it’s midnight.”
Jayce raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? And I think this room needs a solar flare.”
He moved to the window.
“Jayce, don’t you—”
Too late.
He yanked the curtains open. Light exploded into the room like a breach charge.
Caitlyn hissed and shoved a pillow over her head. “You’re a menace.”
“You’re welcome,” he said cheerfully, hands on hips. “You can’t hide in the dark forever.”
“Mourning in peace used to be a basic right,” she muttered into the mattress.
Jayce sat at the edge of the bed. His voice softened, a thread of genuine warmth seeping through. “You’re not done, Cait. Not by a long shot.”
She stared at the ceiling, empty and still. “I lost everything.”
“You didn’t lose everything,” he said, brushing a messy strand of hair behind her ear. “You just lost the things that weren’t real.”
Caitlyn swallowed hard.
“You had the dream again?” he asked, quiet now.
She nodded.
Jayce’s jaw tensed. “I never liked her.”
A weak laugh slipped out. “You’re just mad she lost your prototype before your Council speech.”
“That’s like… tenth on the list.” He snorted. “She was chaos in a designer dress. Treated you like a trophy until she found a shinier one.”
Caitlyn didn’t argue. She didn’t have the strength.
“Honestly?” he said. “I’m glad she’s gone. You were fading into her shadow.”
“I let myself,” Caitlyn whispered. “I thought if I was perfect, maybe I’d be enough.”
Jayce reached out, pulled her into a tight hug, solid, grounding, warm. The kind of hug that reminded her what being safe actually felt like.
“You’ve always been enough,” he murmured into her hair. “Even when you forgot.”
She stayed like that for a while, heart pressed against something steady. Something real.
Eventually, he pulled back. “Alright. You’re getting up. No arguments.”
Caitlyn gave him a dry look. “You’re very bossy for someone who once cried over burnt toast.”
Jayce rolled his eyes. “It was a symbolic moment.”
She smirked.
“There she is,” he said, pleased. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”
“Out?” she blinked. “To where, exactly?”
“Brunch.”
She looked at the clock. “It’s practically lunch.”
“Then we’ll call it lunch.” He shrugged. “Whatever gets you into clothes that aren’t tragic pajamas.”
Caitlyn stretched, joints popping, heart still bruised, but lighter somehow.
“Fine,” she muttered, pushing off the covers. “But I’m not wearing makeup.”
“Bold of you to assume I care.”
She shot him a look. He grinned.
As she padded toward the bathroom, she glanced back at him, his frame slouched in the doorway, eyes full of mischief and a loyalty sharper than steel.
And just like that, the weight in the room shifted. The silence didn’t feel so heavy anymore.
Whatever came next… she wouldn’t be facing it alone.