Chapter 27

“I tried to gather her,
but the pieces cut me.
And I kept reaching,
even as the red bloomed,
even as every sharp edge of her
asked me to let go.”

Aylin’s POV

His arms surrounded me, holding me up and close, so warm and safe and somehow so unbearably terrifying.

I clung to him like he was the last solid thing in a world that was dissolving beneath my feet, like if I loosened my grip even a little, I would simply fall through the cracks.

Inside me, everything was breaking violently and all at once.

My cheek was pressed to his chest, my breath stumbling out in uneven little gasps, and while his grip tightened steadily, my mind was anything but.

It felt like someone had cracked open my skull and let chaos bleed through the seams. I don’t…remember. I don’t remember moving, or thinking, or choosing.

All I remember was running out of his house, chasing air I couldn’t breathe, pursuing a plan that dissolved the moment my feet touched the pavement. I wanted to go to Grandpa…I thought I was heading there, but I didn’t know where I went, or which direction I took, or how far my legs carried me.

I just ran until my lungs burned against the cold, until the world warped at the edges, until the streets blurred and my brain shut down.

I woke up on the concrete floor of some alleyway, sitting against a wall, my knees pulled to my chest, my palms scraped, my mouth dry, and time gone, just gone…again, again, again, like someone kept stealing pieces of my life right out of my hands.

I didn’t know where I was, didn’t understand what happened, I just stared at my own hands, bruised, numb, and shaking,  waiting for the memory to come back, waiting for the missing minutes to crawl back into place.

They didn’t.

They never do.

Something inside me cracked then, and my chest caved around it. I cried, and cried, and couldn’t stop crying, stumbling my way back to the street like a child lost in her own body.

My tears didn’t stop as I found a cab and got in. I didn’t care about the driver’s weirded-out glances as he drove me here because today…today ripped the last layer of denial straight off my skin.

I couldn’t run from it anymore, couldn’t pretend it was stress, or exhaustion, or anything else I used to wrap around the truth like gauze.

There is something wrong with me, wrong in a way that can’t be sugarcoated, wrong in a way that grandpa spent years trying to wrap in cotton, hide behind soft words, and bury under warm reassurances.

He tried to build a world gentle enough to keep me whole, but…I am not whole.

Nathan’s fingers curled into the back of the hoodie—his hoodie, the one I was still wearing—pulling me closer, like he could sense every fracture opening inside me. My tears were soaking through his chest, but I didn’t stop them. I couldn’t. I wasn’t even sure I had control over my own body anymore.

His heartbeat thudded against my ear, full of panic and terror, new feelings he is learning because of me.

My fingers fisted into his jacket because I didn’t trust my knees to hold me. I didn’t trust my brain to keep me standing. I didn’t trust me.

I was scared.

Grandpa always told me there was nothing wrong with me. That I was fine, whole, normal, but no, no, tonight…I saw that lie unravel, thread by thread.

He had been trying to save me from the truth, the way a parent throws themselves between their child and a speeding car.

But the impact hit me anyway.

And now…I don’t know how to get up.

I tried…tried to gather myself, sniffling and swallowing down the next wave of tears as I edged back just enough to see him, though my fingers still clung to him and he kept holding me. I lifted my head, blinking until the blur steadied, until I saw him clearly.

His beautiful eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them, shadowed with exhaustion and something that looked painfully close to despair. He looked wrecked and so undone. He hadn’t slept, no, he’d been here, he’d been looking for me. I could feel it on him, the lingering cold of the night, the frantic energy under his skin.

Guilt shot through me, and I reached up, wanting to touch his face, to apologize, to tell him I was sorry for everything I had dragged him through today, but the second I lifted my arm, vicious  pain ripped through me.

A broken whimper tore from my lips as I flinched back, clutching my arm instinctively.

Nathan’s entire body went still, then…feral.

His eyes widened as he grabbed my arm, his gaze falling on the fabric of the hoodie, where dark, dried blood had stiffened the sleeve.

His jaw clenched so hard I heard the faint grind of his teeth.

“Aylin,” he breathed, “what the hell is this?”

Before I could answer, he pulled the sleeve up, and the breath was punched out of him.

There, slicing across my forearm, was a gash so deep it looked carved, jagged, like someone had dragged a shard of glass or a knife across my skin, the fresh crimson still welled at the edges.

I stared at it, dumbfounded. I hadn’t even noticed.

I was so lost in my head, drowning in that internal storm, that I hadn’t felt the physical pain in my own body until now.

His entire expression ruptured, first panic, then rage, then something darker, violence simmering beneath his ribs…the kind of fury that promised blood.

His thumb hovered over the wound but didn’t dare touch it, his other hand trembling against my wrist.

“Aylin,” he rasped, his voice dropping into a deadly register, “who did this to you?”

His eyes snapped up to mine, unhinged, murderous, “Who the fuck…who hurt you?”

I shook my head helplessly. “I don’t know,” I mumbled, staring at the blood like it belonged to someone else. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to swallow the immense pain, trying to ignore the burn, the sting, the fire licking under my skin.

I kept looking at the wound, at the blood, as if staring hard enough might give me an answer. “Maybe…maybe I did it,” I whispered, not sure of anything anymore.

That made something ignite inside him, a darker flame, a deeper fury.

I saw it in the way his eyes blackened, in the way his chest rose sharply. He wanted…needed this to be someone else’s doing. Someone he could hunt down and rip apart, but if it was me…if it was my own hand that caused me harm, then there was no monster he could kill for that.

His eyelids shut for the briefest, shaking second, like he needed to trap the violence behind them. His chest caved around a stuttered breath, and when he opened his eyes again, something had shifted; the rage was still there, alive and burning, but forced into its cage.

His fingers tightened around my wrist, and he pulled me along, “Come with me,” he murmured.

He led me toward my bathroom, flicked the lights on, and guided me to sit on the edge of the tub. I sank, the cold porcelain biting into my skin as he moved away from me. He tore open the cabinet, rifling through everything inside, his movements almost frantic in their urgency.

“There was a…” He tried to speak, but every time he opened his mouth, it felt like he was trapping a scream inside, “A first-aid kit. Where the hell is—”

“It’s there,” I whispered, pointing to the lower drawer.

He yanked it open and pulled the kit out with a force that made the contents rattle. He crouched by my side, then peeled the hoodie off me, his movements more controlled now, though I could feel the rage trembling under his skin still.

He tossed the hoodie aside and gently cupped my arm, angling it under the light. His breath hissed between his teeth when he saw the gash again up close.

He cleaned the blood with careful hands, doing what he knew to do too well, patching me up, tending to me, and my never-ending chaos. His jaw stayed locked, the vein in his neck straining, his brows drawn so tightly the skin creased between them.

Every now and then, he’d pause, just for a beat, as if to keep himself in check whenever I let out a low whimper of pain, and then he’d resume.

He pressed the gauze to my skin, “It’s not too deep,” he muttered after a moment. “You won’t need stitches,” he added, “We’ll have to change this every couple of hours.”

He taped the bandage in place, his fingers lingering on my skin longer than they needed to, as if he didn’t trust the gauze, or the world, or even my own body to hold together unless he held it in place.

Then his gaze dropped, and he finally noticed the small cuts on the inside of my palm, the slivers of skin split across my fingertips.

He didn’t say a word, just picked up the cotton again and began cleaning every cut, patching every bruise, tending to me in that eerie silence of his that usually terrifies me.

When he was done, his eyes finally flickered up to me. My tears had slowed, and the fog in my brain had dipped low enough for me to breathe. The pain still lived in me, but it wasn’t swallowing me whole anymore.

I inhaled, then exhaled, a small, fragile breath.

“I keep forcing you to play my doctor,” I whispered, trying to sound light, failing miserably. “I’m…sorry.”

He shook his head instantly, cutting me off, “Don’t apologi—”

“I ruined your hoodie too,” I said quietly, glancing at the bloodstained fabric crumpled on the floor. “I’m sorry—”

“Aylin,” He tried to say, to shut me up, but I carried on.

“And for hurting you today,” I breathed, my throat tightening. “I know that I did. I know, and I’m so sorry.”

I lifted my uninjured hand and placed it on his cheek. My thumb brushed the skin beneath his eye, tracing the exhaustion, the sleepless worry carved into his face because of me.

“I keep doing this to you,” I murmured, “Ever since that day in the cabin…I just keep pulling you into my mess and then blaming you for trying to do something about it.”

His jaw clenched, but he still leaned into my touch.

“You were…wrong in what you did, but so was I,” I whispered, “I should’ve listened to you, and I should’ve told you everything from the start. I should’ve—” My words tangled, collapsing into one another, messy and not enough to reflect my inner thoughts.

Nathan lifted his hand, placing it over mine on his cheek, holding it there, anchoring himself to my palm like he needed it.

He exhaled a fractured breath.

“Me…too,” he muttered, and even that admission sounded like it scraped something raw out of him. “I should’ve done things…differently.”

He shook his head, as if he didn’t understand a thing. “I don’t fucking do regret, Aylin, so how the f…how the hell do you make me want to turn back time and change every fucking thing, how—”

He cut himself off and inhaled sharply, “God, I should’ve waited for you to talk to me about this. I should’ve given you time and not pushed you. I should’ve…” another sharp inhale. “Fuck, I should’ve been gentler about this,” His jaw ticked, “All things I don’t know how to do, by the way.”

He huffed out a frustrated breath, “So, don’t you dare apologize for anything,” he said. “Don’t you dare take the blame…I fucked up. You see, I tend to do that a lot, and usually I don’t give a damn, I never have, but with you…”

Just like me, his words were collapsing, messy, and unable to reflect what was happening inside him.

He and I, we were alike in such different ways…

“But with you…” He mumbled, “Christ, Aylin, you turn my head inside out.”

His throat bobbed in a hard swallow, his gaze locking onto mine so intensely it felt like he was peeling back every layer, like he could see all the mess inside me, and wanted it anyway, needed it, claimed it. “You and I, we…we ruin ourselves the same way, just on different frequencies.”

He lifted his hand and cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth with a tenderness that contradicted the wildness in his eyes.

“I don’t want to fuck up with you, princess,” he whispered. “I really can’t afford to do that.”

The look in his eyes…god, it felt like standing too close to a lightning strike.

“When I couldn’t find you today,” he said, “I thought I lost you, I thought someone took you…something took you away from me, and my brain…fuck,” His fingers curled harder around my cheek. “I lost the ability to think, and usually, this brain is all I need to survive, but even he couldn’t help me today. He just kept on…glitching, over and over again.”

He leaned closer, “I’ve never been scared a day in my life,” he whispered, “Not until I thought something bad could happen to you.”

He shook his head, “I don’t do fear, never before, but you…you make me feel it, all the damn time, and it fucking sucks. I don’t recommend it, not one bit,” he added, ever so annoyed, “If I had to rate it? Minus one hundred out of ten. Absolute shit experience, zero stars, would rather stab myself than feel it again.”

Despite everything, my lips twitched because this was just so him.

His eyes dropped to my lips, to that faint, involuntary smile, and the darkness in them softened, then receded a little. I slid my hand from his cheek into his hair, letting my fingers thread through the soft strands. My other arm wrapped around his neck, and I pushed myself forward, burying my face into his shoulder.

He didn’t waste a second and gathered me in his arms, then hauled me in, as if he was trying to fuse me to his bones.

“Nathan,” I mumbled against his neck, breathing him in, grounding myself in the here and now. “Where have you been all my life?” I didn’t expect an answer from him. I barely even thought before saying it.

His hand slid into my hair, stroking softly and cradling the back of my head.

“Well,” he drawled, “I was out there being a menace to humanity, causing mayhem and anarchy, breaking laws, hearts, and occasionally bones, mostly bones…You know—hobbies.” His voice was much lighter, and just what I needed. “You wouldn’t have liked me then.”

I edged back enough to meet his eyes, my fingers still buried in his soft strands, “You still cause mayhem and anarchy, you can’t even breathe without misbehaving,” I said, my brows lifting, “yet here I am. I still like you.”

His lips twitched, so dangerously and adorably.

“You like me?” he repeated, ever so giddily, like a kid, I swear. His eyebrow raised in that Nathan way that meant trouble. “I thought you only tolerated me?”

I swallowed hard, shaking my head. “That wasn’t what I meant…I—”

He cut me off immediately, his eyes lighting up with wicked delight. “No, no, back it up to the earlier confession,” he said, tapping his finger under my chin. “Let’s revisit the I still like you part, in detail, preferably with bullet points, maybe write me a whole thesis even.”

Oh dear god, I opened a can of worms on myself…

“Come on,” he added, ever the menace, “give me the whole list, princess. I am impatiently waiting.”

“Nathan!” I whined.

He threw his head back slightly, a low groan rumbling from his throat, “You know I get hard when you say my name like that.” Then he looked back at me, “Not the most ideal situation, but are you trying to seduce me now or what?”

My eyes widened, and I swatted at his shoulder, “Does everything get you hard?”

“Everything that concerns you?” He nodded, ever so serious, “Hell yeah.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, being his own brand of crazy, “You are really insane.”

He smirked, leaning closer, “And yet you still like me, you said it yourself.”

“You know what, I take it back—”

He scoffed, “No, you can’t,” he said, his energy a hundred eighty degrees different from minutes ago, and something told me he was doing it all for me. “You can never take it back, and you’re stuck with me basking in it.”

He tapped his temple. “It’s up here now, saved and stored in the sacred Nathan archives.”

I shot him a glare, fighting my smile, “Your brain has archives?”

He nodded, “Only for you and your adorable nonsense, while everything else gets deleted immediately.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Anyway,” he continued, completely ignoring me, “the blood flow is not exactly in my brain right now, you know,” His eyes drifted downward, utterly shameless. “Priorities.”

I couldn’t fight it, and a low chuckle effortlessly slipped from me at this crazy man. God, I couldn’t comprehend how this menace was the only person who somehow makes my life harder and easier at the same time. The only one, after Grandpa, who doesn’t make me feel like I’m losing my mind.

His eyes softened the second I laughed, like the sound rewired something inside him. Then he leaned in and pecked my lips, soft enough to undo me.

“Let me draw you a bath,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from my cheek, “It will help you relax, and then you need to sleep and rest.”

I nodded, the thought melting through my sore bones. “Only if you join me,” I mumbled.

His lips curved, “How could I ever say no to that?”

I smiled and nodded, “Cool,” I said, “After that, we’ll sleep, you too, because you look so tired,” I said, the guilt tightening my chest, “And in the evening, I have a flight and—”

His smile dropped, and he was already shaking his head, “No, absolutely not. Not a chance in hell—”

“Listen to me,” I pressed, “Despite everything, I still have a job. I need to be responsible. I can’t skip again, and working helps.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously, but I kept going.

“It never…never happens when I’m in a crowd,” I whispered, the words scratching at my throat. God, saying it out loud felt so strange, heavy, and too revealing.

He opened his mouth to object again, so I placed my hand over it firmly, shushing him.

“Really, Nathan,” I said, raising my brow in warning. “When I’m at work, I’m in control. My mind stays busy, and when I’m busy, nothing happens. I promise I’ll be fine.”

He glared at me, thoroughly unconvinced, so I added, “I will be back tomorrow evening, and then we can…” My voice wavered, the words burning my throat. “We can go see a…doctor, okay?”

Terror crawled inside my bones at the mere thought, but I couldn’t run anymore, no, I need to face this, once and for all.

Nathan’s jaw tightened, but he nodded his head, accepting my bargain.

His eyebrow lifted when he realized my hand was still pressed over his mouth. Then, in true Nathan fashion, he licked the inside of my palm.

I yanked my hand back instantly, my eyes wide. “Dog,” I grumbled, knowing full well how much it irritates him.

It worked.

His eyebrow shot up in pure offense. Then, he leaned in, and before I could breathe, his hand slid into my hair, his fingers fisting the strands, yanking me forward with zero warning as his mouth crashed onto mine.

The impact stole the air from my lungs, a strangled breath trapped between us as his lips devoured mine with the hunger of a man who thought he’d lost me today…and couldn’t survive a second of it.

He kissed me like punishment.

I tried to kiss him back—God, I tried—but he didn’t let me. His lips feasted on my own like an unsatiated beast. He took over, took everything, my power, my sanity, his tongue sliding past my lips like he was reclaiming his territory.

His grip tightened in my hair, pulling me closer until I swore we didn’t have two bodies anymore, just one frantic, desperate shape tangled together.

His teeth closed over the sensitive skin of my lower lip, and he tugged hard…Jesus Christ, the sound that ripped out of me wasn’t human.

I gasped against his mouth, and he swallowed the rest of my breath with another bruising kiss.

God, I loved him like this.

I loved that he didn’t treat me like I might shatter, that he didn’t act like I was a fragile thing on the verge of collapse.

Everyone else tiptoed around me—my mom, dad, and sometimes, even grandpa.

But Nathan?

Nathan shoved back, pulled me in, pushed me past my limits until I remembered I wasn’t glass, until I fought back, until I felt alive.

The more he tugged, the more I wanted to pull. The more he took, the more I clawed myself toward him. In some fucked-up cosmic way…this dark, chaotic, reckless man made me feel stronger, not weaker.

He dragged me out of the storm by throwing himself into it with me.

His teeth tugged once more at my lip before he finally pulled back, his breath unsteady against my mouth, “A dog, you say, huh?” He said, his eyebrow raising.

My chest heaved, trying to reclaim the oxygen he stole from me. My lips curved up, “Sorry,” I whispered, brushing my fingers along the side of his neck and down to his collarbone, “my mistake, a wolf.” I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a murmur, “My wolf.”

His eyes darkened instantly, and he nodded without hesitation. “God help me…but yeah, only yours, princess.”

I smiled. “Why don’t you get me something I can change into?” I said, tilting my head toward the tub, “and we can resume this in there.”

He groaned, “Is this heaven?” he asked, looking up at the ceiling, “because if it is, I might start believing in you,” He said, talking to god apparently, muttering some more nonsense as he left the bathroom.

I sucked in a steadying breath, then my gaze fell to his hoodie crumpled on the floor. I bent down, reaching into the pocket, and pulled out a small piece of folded paper. It was creased, damp around the edges, and smudged with dried blood. Mine, probably.

I should’ve thrown it away earlier, but I didn’t. My fingers unfolded it with the kind of familiarity I hated. It was just like the others from before, same shape, same handwriting.

“You weren’t alone tonight.
You never are.
You just forget me better than I forget you.
You slipped under fast, little fish.
Someday soon…you won’t resurface again.”

My jaw tightened, and I tore the paper into pieces, then dropped them into the toilet. I flushed, watching the water swallow the words whole, dragging the threat with them.

I didn’t blink, I didn’t get scared, I didn’t give it the satisfaction. I was getting tired of these notes, fed up with being hunted by words I couldn’t decode, of not knowing, not remembering, not understanding any of it.

They started showing up about a year ago, some in my mailbox, slipped under my door, tucked between my pockets, always the same handwriting, the same cold taunting tone.

At first, they terrified me, creeped the shit out of me. I remember lying awake for nights, listening for footsteps that never came, convinced someone was in the shadows waiting to take something from me, to finish something.

But time has a strange way of numbing terror. The longer nothing happened, the more I realized…maybe that’s the whole point, maybe the goal was never to touch me, just to break me.

To weaken me, mentally, to make me spiral, to push me into the same darkness my head keeps trying to drag me toward.

I won’t let that happen.

Now, I need to face my disease, or whatever this defective thing in me is. Then, when I finally understand myself, I will find whoever this is.

I won’t let Nathan in on this yet, not now. I won’t feed this monster stalking the edges of my life, not with my fear, not with my tears, and not with Nathan’s unbridled rage.

Not yet.

Now…now I need to fight the war inside my own head first.

And then, god help them, I’ll fight the one outside.

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

Later that evening…

I am panicking.

Hell, yeah, I am panicking.

Not because of the creepy note-slash-threat, no. Apparently, that is peanuts compared to this disaster.

Because this?

This is peak Aylin self-destruction.

I checked my phone again, for the hundredth time since I stepped into the airport. I checked my call logs again, just to be sure. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll.

Swallow.

There it is.

A call.

From last night, around that same time my brain went offline.

A call that my brain, my unreliable, treacherous, blanking-out menace of a brain, made.

A call that lasted two minutes and eleven seconds.

I blinked at the screen, squinted, tilted my head sideways like maybe the letters would rearrange into something less catastrophic.

Nope.

Still there. Two minutes. Eleven seconds. Dialed from my phone to…Chase’s.

Fuck, fuck…goddammit.

Why? Why would I call him? What did I say? Why would you do this, Aylin? Why was I left unsupervised?

I slapped a hand to my forehead, genuinely tempted to knock myself unconscious against the nearest wall.

God, I can’t do this to Nathan. I really, really can’t. I can’t hurt him like this…I wouldn’t, right? Even my defective brain wouldn’t do this, right?

I checked the screen again, maybe the phone would magically correct itself.

It did not.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Maybe it was a mistake, maybe I sat on the phone, maybe I didn’t say a single word. I was injured. I was bleeding. Stupid brain not working. Stupid brain has excuses, right?

I shoved the phone into my pocket and suppressed the frustrated scream clawing its way up my throat. Of course, the universe wasn’t done with me. No, no, it decided tonight I’d also be on his crew, because I messed up the schedule when I took a sick leave yesterday. Perfect. Wonderful.

My eyes flicked around the terminal before settling on him. Chase was standing next to Edward, talking. Edward told him something that had him laughing, wow, there was a time when that laugh alone would’ve given me enough fantasies to last a season.

Now? I want to claw at his throat and shut him up.

Funny how time changes things…

If so, why the hell did I call him last night?

You know what, I am going to get my answers. I deserve answers. I owe it to myself and to Nathan.

I gathered whatever dignity and courage I had left and walked toward them. Edward noticed me first, then he jabbed Chase’s arm with the urgency of a man trying to prevent a natural disaster.

He gave him a look that said run-run-run.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He never liked me, and honestly? I don’t blame him. Even I wouldn’t like the past version of me who worshipped Chase like he was the second coming of Christ.

I stopped when I reached them, and that’s when Chase turned, his eyes landing on me.

“Can we talk?” I asked, trying to bury the panic trembling under my skin. “Just a minute. I won’t take much of your time.”

He nodded his head, “Yeah, sure,” He said, ever so casually, and I tried to read his expression, maybe it would give me a clue about those two minutes, but no, he gave me nothing.

“That’s my cue to walk away, I guess.” Edward said, his eyes flickering from me to Chase, “Blink twice if you are in danger,” He whispered, but I heard him nevertheless. Chase’s eyebrow raised in warning, shoving him, and the man grumbled something before he  strutted off.

I tried not to get affected and inhaled sharply.

Chase sighed, polite as always. “Don’t mind him.”

I shook my head, “No, it’s okay,” I mumbled, “Uh, can I ask you something?”

He nodded his head.

“I think…I called you last night, right?” I asked, praying he’d laugh and say no, that my phone was wrong, but he nodded again, still so calm, so casual, as if this was so normal.

The panic clawed at my throat, and I tried to swallow past it, “Can you…tell me what I said?”

“Well,” He started, his tone annoyingly light, “I don’t think you really wanted to call me.”

My heart stopped.

“You called me Nathan,” he added, his eyebrows lifting. “Which, no offense, was slightly insulting considering I don’t actually like the guy.”

“What?”

“You didn’t make much sense, really, and you didn’t talk much, but I think you wanted to call him and somehow you mistakenly dialed my number instead,” he explained, “You just apologized for what happened, and you asked him to come and get you.”

The breath punched out of my lungs, so hard and fast as relief washed over me so suddenly I almost stumbled.

“I…I said that?” I asked, my heart calming down. Even in that state, I tried to reach for him.

He nodded.

“I didn’t understand much,” He continued gently, “so I called Lilly. We thought something happened to you,” he explained, “She tried to reach Nathan but couldn’t at the moment, then they talked this morning, and he said all was okay,” His eyes searched my face, carefully, “Everything is okay, right?”

My heart thudded hard. Nathan knew? He knew I called Chase last night, but he didn’t say a thing…is he not angry? This is so not like him.

I forced a nod. “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s okay. Just…had a rough night, nothing big. Thanks.”

I was ready to end this conversation here and walk away, but Chase spoke again, “Aylin.”

I paused and turned back. “Yeah?”

He exhaled, his shoulders sinking slightly, “Look…I know things didn’t end ideally between us,” he began, then corrected himself, “Actually, they ended pretty badly, mostly because of me.”

His words opened a door I had nailed shut a long time ago.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” he said quietly. “But I kept avoiding it. I guess I didn’t really know how.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “But I’m sorry, really, for the way I handled everything.”

He looked me straight in the eyes, honest, “It was my fault to get into a relationship knowing I won’t be fully in,” He added, “I made a mistake then, because you deserved better than that.”

My chest tightened. I shook my head, hating this sudden, raw honesty. “I was to blame too,” I murmured. “I knew you still loved her, and I still stepped in. So you don’t need to feel guilty—”

“But I do, because even when I didn’t know it back then, I was using you, and that was not right, not at all. That wasn’t fair to you.”

It really wasn’t…

He took a breath, “I want you to know that if you ever need anything, you can still come to me,” He said, “Aylin…we’ve known each other since we were kids. You’re my friend, and I really don’t want to see you get hurt in any way.”

I didn’t know what to say. I just never expected him to open that door. Our past always felt like a sealed box, a taboo subject that could threaten his peace of mind, but the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t running from it anymore, and it was sincere, truly and painfully sincere.

In that relationship, I did feel like a victim, but I wasn’t perfect by any shot. I manipulated my way into it, into his life. I had built a future on someone else’s unfinished past, thinking it was all I ever needed. Turns out, it was just a lesson that I had to learn the hard way.

“You’re my friend too,” I murmured, the words coming easier than I expected. “And I’m happy for you, really.” A small smile tugged at my lips, “Tell Lilly I say hi, okay.”

He nodded, his lips curving up, “Will do.”

“See you on the plane, Captain,” I said, then turned and walked away.

When I was far enough, among the crowd, the hum of suitcases, the smell of coffee, and airport perfume, I slowed down.

I stopped beside a wall, leaned my back against it, and lifted my hand to my chest, testing something.

You see…time heals, they say. Time shifts the shape of people in your heart. You think you’ve moved on, but a small part of you always wonders, is the door really closed, or did I just walk away from it?

So I pressed my palm to my heart and waited.

One beat. Steady.

Another. Calm.

No jump, no hitch, no traitorous flutter. Just a quiet, rhythmic steadiness.

My lips curved up fully, a wave of peace settling through me. I had moved on. Truly. Completely.

Feeling lighter than ever, almost weightless, I pulled out my phone. My fingers didn’t hesitate as they moved over the screen, knowing exactly which name to tap.

I pressed the phone to my ear, my hand still over my heart, still testing.

“Missed me already, princess?” Nathan’s voice slid through the line, and my heart jumped, not a gentle jump, a full leap, a collapse and rise and crash of rhythm that stole my breath.

My fingers clutched the fabric over my chest as if I could physically hold the feeling in. I pressed my eyes shut…because something hot and violent and terrifying curled itself inside me.

A pressure.

A truth.

A shift, it felt like the ground tilted beneath me.

God… it was always there. I felt it in the way my heart slammed against my ribs whenever he touched me, in the way my fingers always reached for him, the way my body always leaned toward him on instinct, chasing his warmth, his chaos, his everything.

I could no longer stop it. To be honest, I didn’t want to, because somewhere between running away from him, and collapsing into him…I had fallen for this man.

This maddening, unhinged, darkly brilliant creature who always kissed me like he wanted to declare war and held me like a prayer. This man, who terrified me and saved me and ruined me and stitched me together in the same breath.

I am falling in love with this man.

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” I mumbled lowly, unable to steady my heartbeats.

“Careful. If you keep showering me with affection, I might never let you leave again,” He responded, being ridiculous as usual.

“I just…wanted to hear your voice before I got on the plane,” I whispered.

There was a short pause on his side, “Remind me again,” he murmured, “why I allowed you to leave my side?”

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Try not to misbehave while I’m away,” I said softly.

“You know damn well I can’t.” He said, then sighed, “Call me whenever you can, okay?”

“I will,” I mumbled, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

He groaned, “Tomorrow can’t come fast enough,” he mumbled under his breath, “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will.”

I couldn’t end the call just yet, “Nathan?”

“Yes, princess?”

“If my mind allows me, I promise that…I will never leave you,” I muttered, finally able to give him the promise he deserved from me, “but if my mind doesn’t let me—”

“Then, I’ll follow you into any place your mind drags you to,” He resumed the words on my behalf, “You know that, right?”

I nodded, smiling, “I know.”

He exhaled sharply, “You’re in trouble, princess, you just sealed your fate to me with that promise.” Even though he tried to sound playful, I heard the breathlessness beneath it, the faint shake he couldn’t hide.

“I just sold my soul to the devil, didn’t I?” I teased softly.

“Oh yeah, you did.” His voice dropped, dark and absolutely him, “And I’m never giving it back.”

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

Next day…

Nathan’s POV

I woke up with a headache that felt like someone pried my skull open with a crowbar. Brilliant. Exactly the way I fucking wanted to start this cursed day.

I groaned and pressed my palms into my eyes, trying to push the headache back inside whatever hole it crawled out of.

Right…I drank last night, a lot, more than a lot, enough to choke out my thoughts, knock myself unconscious, and pray the night would be long enough that morning wouldn’t come.

Because I didn’t want today, didn’t want anything about it. I just wanted to sleep through the whole fucking thing until my princess came back to me. I’d wanted her with me, but then again, I’m not exactly a good sport to be around when my head unravels like this, so maybe it’s better she’s away.

My phone lit up against the bedside table. I fumbled for it with a groan and pressed it to my ear.

“Wh—”

“When someone calls you, fucking answer!” Christian’s voice detonated through the speaker. “You got me so worried.”

I winced so hard, “Jesus—don’t scream,” I hissed, pulling the phone away from my ear. Seven missed calls from him. Fantastic. I’m everyone’s problem today. “My head is one decibel away from exploding.”

“Oh, poor baby,” Christian mocked, “did we drink ourselves to death again?”

I rubbed my face with a groan, “Yeah, hoped I’d knock myself unconscious for the whole day. Didn’t work,” I squinted at the screen to see it was still eleven in the morning. Fuck.

“Look, I couldn’t find any available flights today,” Christian said, exhaling sharply. “I’ll be there tomorrow early, okay?”

I shook my head, “No. You don’t need to come here. I’m not a child. I don’t need babysitting.”

“Unfortunately, you are,” he grumbled. Annoyed, yes. But the worry cut through beneath, “I wish I had gotten there before, goddammit.” He sucked in a breath, “I know how you get on this day, and—”

“That was before, I am…fine now, really,” I muttered. “I am not going to hurt anyone, promise,” I added, fully aware he is not scared for my well-being. He’s rather worried about the mayhem I’d unleash on the world just to make myself feel better.

“Nathan—”

“Chris, don’t be annoying, I’d hate to go back into wanting to kill you,” I grumbled, “Imma take a shower and go for a run, then wait for my prin—” shit, I said too much.

“Your…what?”

I dragged a hand down my face. I could practically hear his smile.

“Are you, by any chance, referring to the…cat that jumped off your balcony?” He asked, being a teasing shit.

My jaw ticked. “Thank your maker there aren’t any available flights today,” I grumbled, ready to punch him through a wall.

He chuckled, “So, hold on, does this mean you’ve replaced me with her with the whole grounding you down? That was my thing,” He added, being a prick per usual, “I am gonna need to have a serious talk with this cat of yours—”

“Bugger off, you dipshit,” I shot out.

“Hey, I am just jealous I’ve been replaced,” he answered.

“God, I need to find you a girl just to get you off my tail for five minutes.”

“Yeah, well, we both remember what happened the last time you did that,” He said back, bitterly.

“Hey, I told you not to fall in love with her, that was all on you,” I said, “I am hanging up now, don’t annoy me when I’m already murderous. I’ll send people after you. I’m not kidding.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” he said with a bored sigh, “Pick up when I call you, don’t keep me worried,” he warned.

“Dipshit,” I grumbled and hung up.

I was about to slam my phone into the nightstand when the screen lit up, and a new message had my insides calm down a fraction.

Princess: *photo*
Did you send this to my hotel room? *narrowed eyes emoji*

I opened the photo, and it was a shot of her awful green drink thingy she adores. Pure liquid grass. Disgusting. My princess has no taste, but then again, she likes me, so maybe she does…just not in drinks.

Me:
Yup. You can thank me the way I like when you get here.

Princess:
Should I even ask how you knew which hotel or room I’m staying in…but then again, why do I even bother…

Me:
You’re learning.
Asking is pointless.

Princess:
Creep.

Me:
Flattery this early?

Princess:
You can’t keep tabs on me…it’s not healthy.

Me:
I can.
Also, I don’t do healthy, you know that.

She ignored me for a long couple of minutes, so I typed another message.

Me:
Come back already, I’m having separation anxiety.

Princess:
Get a grip.

Me:
I’ll grip you when you get here.

Princess:
Nathan. Behave.

Me: I can’t.
But for you, I’ll try.

Princess: See you tonight 🩶

One look at the damned emoji and my smile fell off. I locked the phone and tossed it onto the bed before I snapped it in half.

I dragged myself into the shower, scrubbed the hangover off me as best as I could, got dressed, and was on my way to the kitchen for a much-needed caffeine when the doorbell rang.

Fuck.

Christian better not have called Nikolas to come here and check on me. Today is not the day for him. I’d stab him, really.

With murder simmering under my skin, I headed for the door and yanked it open—it wasn’t fucking Nikolas. No, worse. It was his wife. What the fuck is she doing here?

“What do you want?” I said, not pretending to be civil. I didn’t have the energy or the will to fake basic human decency today.

Natalie smiled, too bright for my mood, too cheerful, her pink puffy jacket assaulting my poor eyes. God.

“Good morning,” she chirped, then, as if we were long-lost friends, she pushed herself inside, brushing past me, purposely invading my space. Fucking hell, where is my knife?

I turned around slowly, still glaring daggers at her, “Why are yo—”

I couldn’t get the chance to resume my words because she pushed forward a container of some sort, “I made you a cake,” She announced, ever so pleased by herself, “Uh, it’s Nathan’s favorite…my son, I mean,” She added, still smiling.

Why was she so energetic and full of life? I hated her more for it.

“So, I usually make it for him on his birthday.”

Her smile wavered, just barely, “Happy birthday,” She said, her voice much softer.

My jaw ticked. “How do you even kno—” Right. Of course, she’d know.

“It’s the same day as uhm…the same day our mom,” she hesitated, as if scared I’d lash out at her if she said it out loud, “The same day she passed away.”

My throat burned, and I glared down at the container she was holding for me. “I don’t want your cake, or anything from you,” I said, barely keeping it together, “Now, get out of my house,” I said, my tone harsh and final.

She didn’t flinch, didn’t blink, didn’t give a single shit that I was practically snarling at her and kicking her out. She rested her stupid cake over the near cupboard, then dropped a small bag next to it.

Then she turned to me, still maddeningly calm. “Uh, usually on this day, every year, Ronald and I go and visit mom’s grave,” She spoke, totally ignoring that she was not welcome in here.

“Natalie—” I said in warning. Fuck, I was so close to snapping and causing real damage. Maybe Christian was right, maybe I needed a fucking babysitter before I go hurting everyone.

“Ronald is stuck in the UK. He couldn’t find an early flight, so I was thinking maybe you’d want to come with me?” She asked.

My chest seized, but she pressed on before I could curse her out.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever been there before.” There was a tiny shakiness in her voice that she covered fast. “But…we can go together?”

Something in me stilled. For a second, a single, goddamn second, it paused, because no, I’ve never been there before.

“You can drive if you want,” She added, as if to convince me, “and I promise not to talk much and give you a headache,” She added with a small smile, hopeful and so annoying.

My jaw tightened hard enough to crack teeth, and after a long, excruciating minute, I somehow, fucking idiot that I am, nodded my head.

Her eyes lit up like it was Christmas.

She watched me with that stupid, giddy smile while I grabbed my jacket, shrugged it on, then picked up my keys and phone.

She was still standing there, staring.

I raised an eyebrow and pointed at the door.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” she said, scurrying out like she didn’t want to give me a chance to change my mind.

She headed to her car first, rummaged around for something, then came toward mine. I shot her a glare as I unlocked it, and she slipped in. I internally apologized to my car for subjecting it to pink colors, bright smiles, and inexplicable optimism as I got in as well.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw what she grabbed from her car, a small bouquet of lotus flowers, ranging in pink and purple colors. I ignored her entire existence, started the engine, and pretended she wasn’t there polluting my air as I pulled the car out of the driveway and waited for her to lead my way.

Why was I doing this…god knows only.

Natalie actually managed silence for a while, miracle of the century. She stared out the window, her fingers absently stroking the petals of the flowers in her lap. Then, I felt her eyes flicker back to me, words trying to claw their way out of her throat. Of course, she couldn’t shut up for long.

“Do you know how it happened?” Her voice was low and less enthusiastic than before.

I nodded without looking at her, “Yes,” I said, “Joseph, her brother…our uncle, I suppose, he did it,” I added, “he…killed her.”

She nodded, “Yeah,” She whispered as her eyes fell down, her energy dimming, “I never understood how someone could do this to his own sister.”

I turned to her, “I do.”

She snapped her gaze to me, her eyes wide, a delicious mix of shock and fear. She shrank back into her seat, putting distance between us. I almost smiled, almost. This was much better than her getting too comfortable around me. I prefer her nervous and scared…keeps the ecosystem balanced.

She turned back to the window, probably regretting every life choice that led her to knock on my door today. Good.

I exhaled, forcing myself to talk about something, anything, just enough to sever the tension before she had a panic attack.

“She was still alive when they took her to the hospital,” I informed her.

Natalie’s head whipped toward me.

“What?” she breathed. “They…they told us she died right there. But then again, they also said you did.”

I shook my head once. “She was alive still, barely, and when they got me out…” A muscle in my jaw twitched. “…she died.”

Natalie stared at me, something fragile flickering in her expression. “She stayed alive long enough for you to be born,” she whispered in realization.

I nodded, “Miracle child I am, right,” I added, ever so sarcastically. “Everyone’s fucking blessing.”

Her jaw clenched, and the softness in her eyes evaporated, “And that’s when he stole you from us.”

“He didn’t steal me—”

“Call it whatever you want, but he did, he took you from us, and he had no fucking right to do that,” Natalie said, her voice wavering, anger and fury wrapping between her words, something I don’t see on her very often.

“What do you think would’ve happened otherwise?” I said back, my fingers gripping the wheel tighter. “She was dead, your father was bedridden and in a coma, so what,” I scoffed, “you would’ve raised me?”

She nodded without hesitation. “Yeah, Ronald and I, we would’ve taken care of you. We should have.” Her breath hitched. “We lost so much that day…at least we could’ve had you. We would’ve been together, and all of this would’ve not hap—” She cut herself off, shaking her head hard, “…never mind.”

Her gaze fell to the window, her jaw tight, and her breathing uneven, choosing wisely, not to open an argument she wouldn’t win with me.

By the time we reached the cemetery, Natalie had patched herself back together. I hadn’t said a word after her little outburst, and she didn’t try again. Blessed silence.

She walked through the gate, and I followed, my hands shoved deep in my pockets, my eyes scanning the place like it was a crime scene, which, honestly, it absolutely could be. It was silent, cold, and foggy, all perfect settings to kill and bury someone right here…okay, happy thoughts, Nathan, happy thoughts. We are not killing anyone today, you promised Christian, remember?

Natalie stopped at a particular stone, and I did too. My gaze dropped to the name carved into it, and a tight burn spread through my throat, then down to my chest. I shoved it down, not dealing with that now.

Instead, I watched Natalie, focusing on her, observing this whole bizarre ritual. What was the point of visiting a rock with a name on it? The person wasn’t here, anyway.

Natalie lowered the lotus flowers beside the headstone. “Hey, Mom,” she whispered. “I brought your favorite flowers,” She smiled faintly, her fingers brushing the cold edge of the stone.

Then, she lowered herself and sat down on the damp grass, like a psychopath. I eyed her with wary eyes and growing horror, then looked around the cemetery. God, I hoped no one saw this. I didn’t need strangers associating me with this crazy woman having a conversation with soil.

Her eyes flicked up to me. “Sit down,” she said, pointing at a spot across from her.

Is she unwell?

I stayed in my place and just watched her. She sighed and shook her head, then looked back at the grass, stone, and soil.

“Remember when I told you he was going to be the most spoiled kid ever?” she started, literally talking to no one, “That you and dad, me and Ronald would spoil him so much, well, what a lie. He didn’t need us to spoil him…he turned out spoiled on his own.”

The fuck—?

“Anyways,” She resumed, like this was ever so normal. “Ronald couldn’t come now, but he will drop by later with dad,” She added, “So I brought him along—” She pointed at me.

“Are you really just going to sit there and talk to yourself as if she’s here?” I asked, utterly baffled. My eyes narrowed at her, “Aren’t you a psychologist? Shouldn’t you be the sane one?”

She flashed me a knowing look. “Nathan, it’s about belief,” She stated, “I have this belief that she actually hears me when I talk to her, so I feel much better when I do it. Actually, I know that she hears me. It’s about what you choose to believe in.”

Then, she ignored me and focused her attention on the gravestone. “Nathan says hi,” She added, “My son, not this one,” She added, with a low voice as she mockingly addressed me. I shot her a glare as I bore witness to this madness.

“Also, Maria, she is at this stage where she’s curious about everything and has to know every little detail,” She added, shaking her head fondly.

“She asked me why her name is Maria. I told her that I named her after her grandmother. She asked why I would name her after her grandmother.” Natalie sighed, “I told her that sometimes…we love a person a lot that we want to keep their memory alive in some way, and that memory could be through their name, so every time we call it, we remember them.”

My jaw clenched hard, and I hated her words and what they implied.

“Then she asked why her grandmother was not here, and I told her, and then asked why God would take people away, and we ended up in a loop of whys that at the end I just threw her at Nikolas and ran away,” Natalie added, her lips twitching as she ran her fingers over the damp grass.

She kept talking, rambling, really, and I just stood there, hands shoved in my pockets, trying to comprehend the absolute insanity of all of this.

“Oh, also, Nik says hi,” Natalie concluded her monologue, “He still has this belief that there is this window of sorts between hell and heaven, and he believes that Isaac keeps throwing rocks at your window,” She rolled her eyes at her husband’s logic but smiled nevertheless, “And he tells you never open that window, okay?”

I shot her a glare. Assholes.

Her gaze flickered up to me, and she smiled, ever so knowingly. Then, she stood up, wiping the dirt off her pants, “Uhm, I’ll wait for you in the car,” She said, then she turned to the gravestone one more time and set her palm gently on the stone. “I love you, Mom,” She whispered in a low voice before she turned around and walked away, leaving me alone on purpose.

Once she was out of sight, my eyes flickered down. “Don’t listen to her,” I said, “You can open the window…if you want to,” I added, my lips twitching slightly, “and tell him I say hi.”

That familiar burn rose again, clawing at my throat, and I hated it. I lowered myself down, apparently going mental like Natalie.

A harsh breath pushed off my chest as I tried to make sense of this, “You don’t know me much,” I mumbled, looking at the stone, “I am Nathan, by the way.”

“We never met,” I added, the truth tasted so fucking bitter.

I scrubbed a hand over my face.

“I don’t…really know how to do this,” I muttered, staring at the name etched into the stone, waiting for something…don’t know what.

A sign. An epiphany.

Nothing came.

Of course it didn’t. What did I expect?

I huffed a breath. “Natalie just sat there and blabbed on like you’re listening. I don’t—” I sighed, “I don’t know how to do that.”

The grass felt wet, cold, and soft beneath my fingertips—too alive for a place full of the dead. “She is pretty annoying, by the way,” I added, because silence made me itch. “Your daughter, she is such a chronic optimist, talks too much. I don’t recommend her to anyone.”

I shook my head, “Ronald’s annoying, too, but he’s more tolerable than she is, if that means anything, which it doesn’t.”

I let the silence settle again.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is…” I paused and then scoffed, “God, this is stupid.”

I almost stood up, almost, but something small and stubborn and traitorous inside me yanked me back down.

“It’s just…I wish you were here, you know,” I muttered, facing that once and for all, “My life would’ve been so different if you were here.”

The burn in my throat multiplied, spread like fire, sinking deep, clawing into places I didn’t want touched.

“You wouldn’t exactly be proud of how I turned out,” I went on, picking at the words like loose threads. “I’m not good with morals, or empathy, or…whatever revolting sentimental shit normal people have…never understood them, really.”

“You would’ve…taught them to me, right?” I asked, but then again, no answer came.

A light breeze moved through the cemetery, brushing over me, like cool fingers threading through my hair, like the world was trying to pretend it could offer me comfort.

I breathed in and out, “I need to learn them because,” I added, rambling on for some reason, “There is this girl in my life, she is…special in a way,” My lips twitched, “and if I don’t learn these basic human decencies, I might lose her in the end, and I just can’t let that happen.”

I dragged a hand through my hair, annoyed at myself for even being here, for talking, for letting anything slip out.

“You’d like her,” I muttered, “I think.”

“She’s the only thing I don’t want to hurt,” I cleared my throat, “So if you’re listening or…whatever people think happens here…” I paused when I felt a twitch in my stupid chest, “…just…don’t let me fuck this up.”

There. That was enough. Too much said already.

I pushed myself up from the grass and brushed myself off. I looked one last time over the stone, “I don’t really do…emotions and love, or any of that messy shit, but if you were alive, I believe I would’ve…loved you more than anyone.”

A small smile tugged at my mouth because some stupid part of me whispered that maybe she heard me.

With that stupid belief, I turned around and walked away.

The drive back was silent, thank god for that. When we reached my house, Natalie stepped out of the car and hesitated.

“Can I have a glass of water? Then I’ll leave,” she mumbled, like she half-expected me to shut the door in her face.

Honestly? I was tempted.

I nodded, unlocked the house, and walked in. She followed quietly behind me, waited as I filled a glass and handed it to her. She accepted it with a low thank you.

My eyes flickered to the cake sitting pathetically on the counter. I jerked my chin at it and said, “Take it with you. I’m not eating it, it’ll go to waste.”

She narrowed her eyes at me like I’d personally offended her, “No. I’m not taking it back, and you will eat it. It’s delicious.”

I glared. “I don’t like cake.”

“You ate one at Maria’s birthday,” she said. “Don’t lie.”

I want to hit her, really.

Then she moved toward it and picked up the small bag she had left there. “I also brought you a small gift.”

Great.

“I don’t want anything from you,” I grumbled out. When is she leaving?

She ignored my words yet again; she had a talent for it.

“Nik told me that you like to write,” She said, but I didn’t comment. “Do you know that our mom liked to write, too. She always had a notebook nearby, always scribbling things down, random verses, thoughts, diary entries…she just loved to write.”

Her lips twitched softly, “You got that from her, I think.”

“She was a professor of literature at college, so well, words were her thing,” She added, giving me information I wasn’t aware of. “She had a lot of notebooks, and I stored them all, kept them, after what happened. I didn’t read them at first, but I got curious later on and read a few.”

She reached inside the bag and pulled something out.

She extended forward a blue notebook, one with a soft matte cover, its edges worn, slightly frayed with age.

“This is the last one she wrote,” She said, her throat bobbed, “She started it…nine months before she died.” She said, “She started this one when she learned she was pregnant with you.”

She shook her head, “I never read this one,” She said, sincerely. “I want you to have it.”

I stared at her extended hand and felt something so fucking weird, like the ground was tilting beneath my feet. My breath went tight as I reached for it with hesitant fingers. I ran my thumb unconsciously over the edge, over the faded texture, over the years locked inside it.

“I’ll…read it,” I muttered, swallowing hard, “and I’ll give it back.”

Natalie shook her head, her eyes softening, “No, keep it,” She said, “I think she would’ve wanted you to have it.”

Then, she edged closer, and all I felt were her arms going around me. I went still, frozen. She had given me quick, annoying hugs before, but this wasn’t that…this was different.

She tiptoed and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me down, her hand slipping into my hair, cradling the back of my head like she was afraid I might…break apart if she didn’t hold all the pieces together.

She held on so hard, like she was trying to make up for all the years we were apart.

She didn’t let go, and I…I didn’t push her away.

My eyelids fell shut against my will. For half a second, half a fucking second, my body betrayed me, my arm lifted, almost hugging her back, but I fought the urge and stayed still. It only made her tighten her grip around me, something wet seeping into my neck, and I heard her sniffle against my skin.

She pulled back slowly, reluctantly. Her eyes were wrecked, and swarming with tears. “Happy birthday, Nathan,” She breathed, her voice so soft.

Her hand rose, brushing my hair back from my face with a gentleness I didn’t know how to receive.

Then she leaned in and pressed a warm kiss to the side of my head, and whispered, “I wish I were there for you on every birthday.”

⊹˚₊‧──────────────────‧₊˚⊹

Author’s Note:

Hey my beautiful peeps!

I hope you liked this chapter.

Sometimes, I just can’t figure out who is more messed up, Aylin or Nathan.
I still think it’s Nathan tho xD

See ya on the next chapter 🩶