Chapter 36

“She thinks she’s choosing herself.
Maybe she is.
But she’s leaving pieces of herself behind,
and they all know how to find me.“

Aylin’s POV

I lay on my side with my hand tucked under my cheek, staring at the window, at the dark, suffocating blackness of the sky. It looked like it might crack open and swallow me whole if I stared long enough.

I should be crying, I thought. I should be sad, but I wasn’t.

I was angry, so furious it almost scared me.

It hummed under my skin, a restless buzz in my bones, like it needed something to tear apart.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to breathe through my nose, slow, controlled breaths, because if I didn’t keep it caged, I might actually scream.

I was angry at everyone, at Nathan, at Grandpa, at this turn of events, and at myself, mostly, because I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel.

Nathan had crossed a line, not by accident or through impulse, no, deliberately.

It made me rageful in ways I never thought I was capable of. The way he hadn’t even tried to apologize, not that I’d given him the chance, but I knew he wasn’t sorry, not by any means. The way he always decided—what happened, who got hurt, what was acceptable—and expected the world to rearrange itself around his logic.

Fuck that logic.

The worst part of this all? A traitorous, humiliating part of me still wanted to hear him out.

I hated myself for that.

Because I knew him, I knew how sharp his mind is, how manipulative he can be when he wants to. He doesn’t need to lie…he just reframes the truth. He softens the edges. He makes the violence sound like devotion and the obsession sound like protection until you are nodding along, dizzy, wondering if you’re the insane one for resisting him.

This menace of a man…he is a parasite, whose whole purpose is to eat me alive and leave nothing behind.

If I had gone with him today, if I had stepped into his orbit again…he would’ve wrapped the web so gently I wouldn’t have felt the threads until I was already stuck.

I couldn’t hear him out, because he needed to understand something…he didn’t get to hurt my family and still keep me. No, he didn’t get to burn things down and call it protection.

I forgave him too easily the first time, when he threatened my mom and hurt grandpa’s business. But this time, I couldn’t turn a blind eye, or else he would think he could do anything. Someone needed to knock that god-complex of his down a notch.

The knock at my door scattered my endless thoughts. I didn’t say anything, only shifted my gaze toward it. When I stayed silent for too long, the door clicked open, and Grandpa peeked inside, his eyes landing on me.

After Nathan left, Grandpa had left too, without much of a word, and Mom had opened her laptop and buried herself in her cases, her own way of dealing with the chaos, I suppose.

“I thought you fell asleep,” he muttered, much softer than the sharp tone he’d used earlier, the one that still sat in my chest like a bruise. He had never spoken to me that way, not even once.

“I couldn’t,” I mumbled lowly.

He stepped in and closed the door behind him. He walked closer, then lowered himself onto the edge of the bed beside me. His gaze swept over my face with that familiar gentleness, like he was trying to read what I wasn’t saying. His hand lifted, fingers brushing near my temple, “Are you mad at me?”

He’d given me an ultimatum, so heck yeah, I was mad.

I nodded.

Lines deepened between his brows. His head tilted, as if he couldn’t stand the thought of me being angry with him. “I’m sorry I talked to you like that, but sweetheart, I couldn’t take it anymore.” He added, stroking my hair, “This psychotic man is going to ruin your life, can’t you see it?”

Ruin my heart?

Sure.

Ruin my life?

No.

If anything, before him, my world had been colorless. He bled color into it, so recklessly and aggressively, and now I didn’t know how to go back to seeing in black and white.

“I never interfered in your personal life before, but this is where I draw the line, Aylin. I won’t let you do this to yourself. I won’t let him harm you or us,” His tone shifted, sharper now, as if saying Nathan’s name in his head was enough to raise his blood pressure. “He has done nothing but cause trouble since the moment I met the fu—”

He stopped himself mid-word and sucked in a breath, forcing it down.

That was the thing about Grandpa, he didn’t get angry so often, and he never cursed when around me. He was always so composed, so put together, like he’d been born wearing a crown and a perfectly pressed suit. I used to think he wasn’t even capable of losing control.

But he was.

He just saved it for me.

For the moments I scared him. For the moments where he loved me so much, it made him break in places he refused to show anyone else.

I could see it now, he wasn’t only angry at Nathan. He was terrified of what Nathan pulled out of me, of how quickly I bent toward him, of how easily I forgave, how deeply I felt, how blindly I could love again when I should’ve been protecting myself.

“He’s only doing it to protect me,” I whispered, finding myself defending him anyway. The asshole, even now, even when I am fuming at him, why was I still making excuses for him?

“Protect you from us?” Grandpa grumbled, like it was so absurd.

I shook my head, “He wants to know what happened back then, he wants to know who hurt me…that if anyone had hurt me,” I muttered. True, his actions were wrong, but I knew his intentions.

Is it crazy that I already miss him? Yeah, it is. I am as crazy as him, apparently.

Grandpa’s hand paused in my hair when I lifted my eyes to his. “He doesn’t want to let it go the way I did,” I added, then a part of me, the part Nathan had gotten his hands on and twisted just enough, made me ask, “If I asked you to tell me again about that day…would you?”

His jaw ticked before he nodded. “I would,” he said. “But I know I’d lose you all over again, that you’d disappear back in your head for so long I won’t be able to pull you, so I’d rather you don’t.” His fingers threaded through my hair. “We’ve come a long way, Aylin. Would you really throw all that progress away?”

I wanted to tell him I’d lost that progress almost ten months ago, when the episodes started coming back. I wanted to tell him it was getting worse, the headaches, the dizziness, the nosebleeds, the scattered memories, the blanking out.

I wanted to tell him I’d gone to a doctor. That I’d done tests. That I was waiting on answers, I wasn’t sure I could survive hearing. That I was terrified down to the bone, but I didn’t.

I just shook my head, “I don’t want to know, not now, at least,” I mumbled.

One step at a time.

Grandpa’s hand didn’t leave my hair. “I’m planning to stay here for a while. I’m not thinking of going back to Oregon any time soon.” He added, “Stay here with me for the time being. Your mother is planning to stay too. It could be the three of us…It’s been a long time since we had that.”

I knew his decision was entirely based on this current turn of events, because his business, his friends, his whole life was there. He only ever came here for me.

He didn’t want me to be alone now. To be honest, I didn’t want to either. The second I stepped out of here, Nathan was going to show up. If I went to my place, he’d be there. It was a damn hassle to avoid him. I truly believed he might even sneak in at night and kidnap me from here. I wouldn’t put it past him.

God. I didn’t even know if that thought frightened me as much as it should’ve.

I nodded. “Okay,” I said, and his smile came instantly, relief softening his features. “I have the next three days off. I don’t think I’ll go anywhere, I just want to rest.” I added.

I needed to avoid confronting Nathan in any way I could, at least for now. I needed space before his logic crept back in, before it tangled with my thoughts and twisted them, before I found myself running back into his arms. Ugh, I should not be thinking about his safe arms right now and how good it felt to be surrounded by them.

He nodded. “Okay, I am glad to hear that, sweetheart. I’ll leave you rest now,” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my temple, “Don’t be mad at me,” he said quietly. “You know you’re the most important person to me in this whole world. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you.”

My chest tightened.

“I know,” I whispered, because I did.

As he straightened and turned to leave, my fingers caught the sleeve of his sweater, stopping him. He turned back immediately as I said, “You need to promise me that you won’t hurt him, Grandpa,” I said. The thought alone made my heart quiver.

His jaw set. “If he doesn’t do anything, I won’t—”

I shook my head and pushed myself up on the mattress, refusing the half-promise. “No, please, you can’t hurt him. He won’t do anything,” I added quickly. I’ll make sure of that, somehow. “But you can’t go after him the way you said you would.”

“Because if you do,” I continued, meeting his gaze without flinching, “I’ll leave. I won’t stay here one second, and I won’t look back.”

I spoke with the same language he used on me today, because if it came down to Nathan’s safety, I knew exactly what I’d do. I would burn the world down for him, too.

Yeah, I was too far gone. I hated it.

Grandpa’s eyes darkened. A rough breath pushed out of his chest, but he nodded nevertheless. “Okay,” he said.

I lifted a brow, waiting.

He huffed in irritation. “Okay, okay. I promise,” he grumbled, clearly unhappy about it.

With a final goodnight, he left the room, and the quiet rushed back in all at once.

I fell back against the mattress, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts already beginning to spiral when my phone buzzed beside me.

I flinched and reached for it.

Psycho: You really suck at this promise thing.

I exhaled through my nose as I read his text, something painful and guilty trying to surface before I shoved it back down.

Psycho: If your tantrum is over, can we talk?

Asshole.

I glared at him through the screen. I wanted to ignore him, but I found myself typing before I could stop myself.

Me: I wasn’t throwing a tantrum.

I was about to write more, but his reply came back so quickly.

Psycho:
My my…so your phone does work.
Here I thought you’d smashed it during one of your dramatic tantrums.

Me:
If you want a damn tantrum, I’ll be more than delighted to deliver.  

Psycho:
Deliver yourself to my place instead before I start acting irrationally.

I shot him a glare, ignoring that sentence, and resumed typing.

Me:
Besides, unlike you, I don’t solve my problems with destruction.

Psycho:
Says the girl who held a knife to my throat last night.
Sure.

Me:
I wasn’t like this before you.
I used to enjoy peace and quiet.

Psycho:
Then you really picked the wrong man.

Me:
Which is why I am un-picking you. Bye. 

Psycho:
You’re adorable when you get delusional.

This piece of…ugh.

Me:
You don’t get to joke right now.

Psycho:
I joke when I’m pissed.
Right now, I’m fucking fuming.

I stared at the screen, my chest tightening as I realized how easily I was slipping back into his orbit.

Me:
You didn’t even apologize…

Psycho:
I don’t apologize for protecting things that are mine.

Me:
I’m not a thing.

Psycho:
I know.
You’re worse.
You’re my fucking ruin, princess.

Me:
And you’re the thorn in my side.
Stop texting me.

My jaw ticked, the anger turning inward, furious at myself for how easily I kept falling into his trap. I opened his contact and hit block before I could rethink it. If I couldn’t restrain myself, then I’d force myself to.

Even if it hurts.

I tossed the phone aside and pushed myself off the bed, pacing the room like the walls were closing in. Every muscle in my body felt wound too tight and restless. I dragged a hand through my hair, then over my face, trying, failing, to think about anything other than that infuriating, impossible man.

I startled when a soft knock echoed from my door. I stopped mid-step as my mom peeked inside. “Can’t sleep?” she asked, her lips twitching slightly, probably aware of my pacing and the curses I’d been muttering nonstop.

I shook my head, “No.”

“What do you say we go downstairs, grab some snacks, and watch a movie together?” Her lips curved again. “I can’t sleep either.”

Something in my chest loosened.

“Yeah,” I said, softer now. “Yeah, that sounds…nice.”

“Come on, then,” she said.

I followed her out, pausing only long enough to glance back at my abandoned phone. I ignored it and closed the door behind me.

We headed to the kitchen, grabbed a few snacks, and then moved into the living room. She flipped through the streaming options while I set everything down on the coffee table.

She reached for a blanket from the armchair and shook it open before draping it over my shoulders. “It’s a bit cold,” she muttered, like this was so normal, before she sat right next to me.

God, it felt so weird to be this close to her after all these years. After I moved out and after the divorce, our meetings only happened through coincidences, mainly because of grandpa. She never called unless it was necessary, and neither did I.

I’d made it that way on purpose. It felt safer to have her so far away from me.

But now, having her this close had my throat tighten so fast it hurt. Suddenly, I wasn’t twenty-something anymore. I was just a small kid, exhausted, with no idea where to put all this fear.

I pressed my lips together and stared at the TV screen, willing the tears back down, forcing my breathing to stay even.

She set the bowl of chips between us and picked one up, chewing softly. Without meaning to, my eyes drifted to her.

She looked…different like this.

I was used to her sharp, hair always neatly styled, makeup perfectly done, heels clicking against marble floors, tailored suits, a strong-willed, feared presence that bent rooms around her the moment she stepped into court. I’d always admired that version of her, even when it intimidated me.

She was strong where I wasn’t. She stayed in control while I unraveled.

But this version now?

This one looked almost normal.

Her hair, just like mine, fell loose around her face, hers a little shorter. Her face was bare of makeup, yet her skin was still flawless, making her look nowhere near her age. She wore soft pink satin pajamas, and she was eating chips. Since when did she eat chips?

She was always so careful about her body, diet, and just everything.

She picked up the remote and paused the movie, noticing that my attention was somewhere else. She turned to me, her lips twitching, “I don’t think you are interested in the movie,” She mumbled.

I shook my head, sinking deeper into the cushion as if I could disappear into it. “Sorry,” I said quietly. “I just can’t…concentrate, I guess.”

She slid the bowl of chips away and wiped her hands with a napkin. “Forget the movie,” she said, turning toward me until her body almost faced mine. “Let’s just talk.”

My stomach dipped. Talk?

“So, tell me,” She sucked in a deep breath, “When did you meet…him?”

So, we are talking about that. Awesome.

I tugged the blanket tighter around my shoulders, my fingers fidgeting with the edge. “Around ten months ago, something like that.” I swallowed. “But we didn’t start dating right away.”

She nodded her head, “So, do you…you know, love him or something?”

Heat crawled up my neck in a way that made me want to crawl out of my own skin. I shifted in my seat, not comfortable sharing my feelings with her. I could barely say those things to Nathan on a good day.

I shook my head, “We are still figuring things out,” I muttered, keeping it short.

“Well, I won’t deny it, it’s obvious he cares about you,” Her eyebrow raised, her tone lighter than I expected, “But he is crazy, Aylin, like…literally crazy.” She shook her head once. “You don’t need that in your life, believe me, you deserve better.”

Something in me bristled.

No, I didn’t agree with that, not one bit.

I didn’t believe I deserved better. With Nathan, the pieces just fit…in a way they never had before. Yeah, he was crazy, toxic, goddamn infuriating more often than not, but it wasn’t like I was the normal one here.

He was the only person in this entire world who didn’t flinch at my sharp edges. The only one I could be myself with—no restraints, no control, no facade. Just me, and for some crazy reason, he liked that unfiltered me. The me that she herself tried changing, so many times.

God, why did my mind keep running back to him like this? Why did I keep defending him in my head, reaching for him even when I was angry, even when I knew better? Why did it feel like the safest place in the world right now would be curled up in his bed, his arms heavy around me, his breath warm against my neck, his fingers resting right near my pulse?

He’d told me once that it soothed him. That my pulse—that tiny, insignificant rhythm under my skin—was what helped him fall asleep.

The thought lodged itself somewhere painful.

What if he couldn’t sleep now?

I squeezed my eyes shut, frustration flooding me so fast it made my chest ache.

God. I felt like I was going to explode.

I needed to stop thinking about him. I wanted to stop, but nothing was working.

“Let’s not talk about him,” I muttered, already feeling her about to dig deeper.

She nodded her head, “Okay…as you want, we don’t have to talk about him.”

She studied me for a moment longer than usual, her gaze lingering like she was memorizing something she’d been afraid to look at before. Then she leaned in, her hand came up, and rested against my cheek.

Her thumb brushed softly. Her eyes shimmering with something I rarely, if ever, saw on her face, “I really missed you,” She whispered.

Jesus Christ…did Nathan replace her with an alien or something?

I felt myself lean into her touch before I could stop myself, “I missed you too, Mom.”

Her green eyes darkened, becoming glassy, and then…a tear slipped free and traced its way down her cheek.

I froze.

I had never seen her cry, not once, not when I was a child, not when things fell apart. Not…ever.

“Mom?”

She sniffed, trying to collect herself, but failed. Her hand slid from my cheek to my shoulder, “Come here,” she murmured with a choked sound as she pulled me in.

Her arms wrapped around my back so tightly, and I collapsed into her. My arms circled her waist as she cradled the back of my head, pressing my face into her shoulder, burying her own face in my hair as her breath hitched.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

Her words, her out-of-character softness, her tears, the way her arms clung to me, all pushed and pulled at my already weak heart till my vision turned blurry. I pressed my eyes shut, but the tears spilled down anyway. My fingers fisted the back of her pajama shirt as I held her just as tightly.

After a short while, I loosened my grip, but she didn’t.

She held me like she was making up for every time she hadn’t, every time she’d chosen distance over touch, and that was…always. I didn’t remember her hugging me. Not once.

“I should’ve been there for you,” she whispered into my hair, “I should’ve—” Her breath hitched. “I should’ve not blamed you…for something that was never in your control.”

My stomach dropped.

She…blamed me?

I pulled back just enough to look at her, but she didn’t fully let me go. When she finally leaned away, her eyes were red and exhausted, her face drawn with a kind of pain that she’d been carrying for years, and it had finally cracked open.

She cupped my face in her hands, her thumbs brushing my cheeks, wiping my tears, “I think…I think I was so…traumatized by the way my mother was,” she said, “that when you started showing a few of her symptoms, I just…I couldn’t deal with it.”

She rarely ever mentioned her. This was a first.

“Grandpa only ever told me good things about her,” I mumbled. I sniffled and wiped at my nose with the back of my hand. “He always spoke about her like she was…his ray of sunshine.”

I never got to meet her. She passed away when my mom was pregnant with me. I only knew her through photographs and grainy videos, through the way Grandpa’s voice softened whenever he mentioned her.

She nodded, “She was good, the best even,” She smiled, nostalgic, “But…” She paused, as if forcing herself to stop from saying more.

I swallowed the emotions clogging my throat, my heart thudding hard enough to hurt.

“You can tell me, mom, I am not…that little kid anymore,” I said, “You don’t have to tiptoe around me. I am trying to face all of this. I am trying to not be so terrified of it anymore.”

I’d spent my whole life running from it, and now, because of that impossible man my heart still ached for, I was finally trying to stand still long enough to let the truth catch up to me.

Her hand slid from my cheek. The other one tucked my hair behind my ear, fingers brushing softly, almost absent-minded, like she just needed to touch me.

“She was…great…she loved me. I know she did, and I loved her so much.” Her mouth trembled, but she held it together. “But when it happened, she became this…entirely different person, and when you’re a kid, you don’t understand how a person can look like your mother and still feel like a stranger.”

“She…hurt you?” I asked, the words coming out small, because I didn’t want the answer.

She nodded, “Among other things, yeah,” She said, “Our life wasn’t easy by any means, and your grandpa tried, god, he tried to make the best of a worst situation, he tried to make something livable out of something impossible, but there were things he couldn’t control. No matter how hard he pretended he could.”

She inhaled deeply, “When she got so bad, she’d end up…in the hospital,” she said, refraining from saying a mental institution for my sake, “Sometimes for weeks, sometimes longer, and while she was there, your grandpa would get really bad too, he would slowly unravel every day.”

My heart ached so badly, trying to think of him so broken like that.

“Then, he’d bring her back, and for a while, everything would be okay, we’d have good days, but the thing is, they never figured out what was wrong with her.” Her lips pressed together, “and when doctors can’t find out what the problem is, they start labeling it words like…hysteria, instability, unmanageable, and as long as there was no diagnosis, there was no cure, and the good days always ended soon.”

The words hit me somewhere deep.

“So…even the good days stopped feeling good,” she said, “because you knew the bad was coming.”

Her hand found mine. Her fingers curled around mine, they felt cold, so cold it startled me, like she’d been carrying winter inside her all this time.

“It was a very unbalanced life,” she whispered. “Always waiting, always watching, always bracing for the worst.” Her grip tightened. “And I promised myself I would never live through that again. I promised myself I wouldn’t build that kind of home for my kids.”

My throat closed around the ache. I could feel the shadow of it reaching for me through her words.

“So, when you…when you showed those little signs, I instantly panicked,” Her breath hitched. “I didn’t know what I was looking at. I didn’t know what it meant. I just knew what it reminded me of.”

She shook her head, another tear slipping free, then another.

“And I did the worst thing a mother can do to a child who’s scared,” she whispered, like it hurt her to admit it out loud. “I made you feel like you were the problem.” She stroked my skin, “But you never were, Aylin, the problem was me. I couldn’t protect you from your own fear…because I didn’t even know how to survive mine.”

Her face went blurry and watery in front of me, and only then did I realize the tears were pouring down my cheeks relentlessly.

Her confession, her grief, her memories…they didn’t just sound like the past.

They sounded like my future.

I wasn’t there yet. Mine was still…manageable, in some ways. I could still pretend, still function, still hold the pieces together with shaking hands.

But what she described…that could be me.

I would not be able to perform my job. I would not be able to be a normal, functional human. I would not be able to be a wife or a mother…I would only become dangerous, first to myself, and then to anyone unlucky enough to love me.

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

I woke up with a splitting headache. The usual.

I wasn’t sure if it was my condition acting up or just the aftermath of how much I’d cried the night before. After she talked, bits and pieces about a dark past, she hugged me so tight, and for the first time in forever, I fell asleep in my mother’s arms.

That alone felt unreal.

I didn’t understand why now. Why, after all these years, did she choose this moment to open herself up to me in such a raw, unfiltered way? The thought lingered for long, but I pushed it aside.

I took a shower, hoping the heat would help me pull myself together. It didn’t. The headache stayed. The dizziness swirled, and even my stomach tightened painfully.

I dried my hair, changed into one of my sweat sets, slipped into my fluffy slippers, and headed downstairs. I needed food so I could take some painkillers. Too bad the ones the doctor prescribed were still at Nathan’s place. I couldn’t even remember their name, let alone what they looked like, to buy them myself.

I was about to step into the kitchen when my name being called stopped me short. I turned just in time to see one of the maids approaching from the other end of the hallway, coming in through the main door. She carried a small bag in her hands.

“Your order arrived,” she said politely, smiling as she extended it toward me.

My brows knit together as I took it from her, “My order?”

She nodded, her smile never faltering. “The delivery guy said it was yours. Isn’t it?”

I blinked at her, then slowly opened the bag.

My heart clenched the moment I pulled out the matcha latte, from my favorite place, and beside it, the familiar packet of pills the doctor had prescribed. The sight of them felt like a quiet punch to my chest.

“It’s mine,” I murmured.

She nodded once and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me standing there, suddenly unsteady.

He shouldn’t do sweet gestures when I am mad at him, god, he really shouldn’t.

He’d made a ritual out of it, to always bring me a matcha latte every morning, always calling it names and insulting my taste buds. God, even when I was away, in another city, he’d somehow managed to have it delivered to my hotel room every single day.

I backed into the wall, needing something solid behind me, my heart still pounding.

The urge to clutch the stupid bag to my chest and hug it tight, because it was from him, was embarrassingly strong.

I fought the urge to cry, annoyed at how emotional I’d become after last night. Apparently, one deep conversation and a maternal hug were enough to turn me into a damn mess.

I tried to gather myself, went back into the kitchen, and joined them for breakfast. I ate a slice of toasted bread, drank my matcha, devoured it, before I took my pills.

Mom had a meeting afterward, and Grandpa was tied up with a few calls, so I retreated to my room. I dug through my old bookcase, searching for something to read. It had been so long since I’d had free time like this that I genuinely didn’t know what to do with it.

My headache had almost faded by the time I picked up a book and made it through a few chapters. The clenching in my stomach, however, refused to follow. I paused, frowning as the discomfort sharpened into something unmistakable. When bile surged up my throat, I dropped the book and jumped off the bed, rushing to the bathroom and dropping to my knees just in time to empty whatever was left in my stomach.

Shakily, I got up and flushed, then washed my face, brushed my teeth, and glared at my pale reflection in the mirror. Now, that’s new.

The rest of the day dragged by at a painfully slow pace. I drifted through the mansion, bored out of my mind, like a child with nothing better to do. I played chess with Grandpa in his study, watched a movie with Mom, and despite everything going on, it felt good to be this close to them again.

God, it felt almost normal.

After dinner, Grandpa went out, and Mom said she was tired and turned in early. I went back to my room, trying every trick I knew to keep my mind from circling back to one specific someone…he who shall not be named.

By midnight, my eyes were tired, but my body refused to follow. I lay there scrolling through my phone, half-numb, half-restless, when the same discomfort from the morning returned, low in my stomach, sharp enough to make me sit up.

I straightened, annoyed, shifting like I could outmaneuver it.

Then, it happened again.

My eyes widened, I slapped a hand over my mouth, and bolted for the bathroom.

I barely made it.

When it was over, I stayed there for a second, hunched over the sink, breathing through my nose like I could force my body to behave. I washed my face, blinked water away, and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

What’s wrong with me?

Is this another damn symptom?

My throat went dry when another type of question drifted through my mind, barely there, but it had me tensing up right away.

Without a second thought, I rushed back to my room and snatched my phone off the bed with shaky fingers. I opened the app, scrolling through dates I suddenly couldn’t trust.

My chest dropped so hard it felt like my heart hit the floor first.

Oh no.

No, no, no—

I should’ve gotten my period…eight days ago.

Eight days ago?

I hadn’t even noticed. I’d been too busy, too distracted, too wrapped up in everything that had been happening these past days to pay attention to my own body.

There had to be another explanation.

My mind scrambled immediately, grasping for logic, for anything solid to hold onto.

I’m on the pill, for god’s sake. I take it every day. I’m careful. I’m always careful.

But then another thought slid in, so cruel and dangerous, cutting straight through the reassurance.

Are you careful, really?

My fingers trembled as doubt crept in, because…how could I trust my own memory lately? What if I’d skipped a day and didn’t remember? What if this fucked up brain had failed me here, too?

No. No, there was no way. There couldn’t be.

My breathing turned shallow, sharp little inhales that didn’t feel like air.

I threw the phone onto the bed like it burned and dragged my hands over my face, then into my hair, gripping hard enough to hurt.

“No,” I whispered again, “Please…no, oh god, no.”

I backed into the wall and slid down it, the panic chewing through every nerve in my body. I tried to breathe, to think, to do anything useful, but it felt like everything was collapsing at once, thoughts piling on top of each other until I couldn’t tell which one to grab first.

What if it was nothing?

What if it wasn’t?

I couldn’t go to my mom with this. We’d only just started stitching something back together, and I didn’t trust her enough to steady me as I unravel.

So what was I supposed to do?

God. I really had no one.

The thought landed so heavily in my chest, and I hated how true it felt.

I pressed my palms into the floor and forced my shaking body upright. My legs felt weak as I reached for my phone and dropped onto the edge of the bed. I checked the time difference with clumsy fingers. It should be morning over there.

Before I could overthink it, I typed.

Hey.

Two seconds passed before my phone pinged.

Lilly: Helloooo

Lilly: Isn’t it too late over there?

Lilly: Nathan, is that you, you asshole? Leave Aylin’s phone alone, or I am telling her, you creep.

My heartbeats fastened as I typed.

Me:
No, it’s me.
Can I call you?

The three dots appeared, then disappeared, and almost instantly, my phone started ringing.

I answered immediately, pressing it to my ear.

“Aylin?” She said.

“Yeah, hey,” I mumbled.

“Hey…everything okay?”

I hesitated. “Uh, are you busy?”

“Nope,” she said easily. “The weather’s awful, so I’m working from home. Which means I’m eating breakfast and drinking coffee like the responsible adult I am.”

I swallowed. “Are you…alone?”

“Yeah,” she said, then paused. “Okay, now I’m scared. Did something happen? Is Nathan okay?”

“It’s not like that,” I rushed out. “I just—uh—I’m kind of panicking, like, really panicking, and I didn’t know who to call, and I know we are not as close as before and maybe you hate me but I really need you, I need someone to tell me not to panic because I’m losing my mind over here and it’s too late and I don’t know what to do—”

“Whoa, whoa,” she cut in gently, “Okay, pause, breathe, and switch to facetime. “

I switched to video call, and her face popped onto the screen instantly. Her hair was shoved into a messy bun, very clearly in her pajamas still, and curled up on a couch.

“God,” she muttered, squinting at herself. “I look terrible.” Then she waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind me. Talk. What happened?”

My throat tightened instantly. The words refused to line up, like saying them out loud would make them real.

Lilly noticed.

Her expression shifted, just a little. “Is this…Nathan-related?”

I nodded my head.

Her brows drew together. “Okay.” She leaned closer to the screen. “Did he do something to you?”

Yeah, possibly knocked me up. The menace. Oh god, I am gonna cry.

I nodded again, my eyes burning.

Her face twisted. “God, is it a weird sex thing? Because I do get that vibe from him.”

Despite myself, a choked laugh bubbled up, and I shook my head as I mumbled, “No, I am…I am late.”

Her eyes widened.

“Oh,” she said, “Oh, ok…okay.”

She took a visible breath, like she was rebooting her brain. “How much…late?”

“Eight days.”

She nodded slowly, as if trying to process each word at once, “And uh…are you on the pill or any form of protection or…something?”

I nodded, “I am on the pill, but I think I might’ve missed it. I am not sure.”

She gulped down, “Okay, no need to panic or spiral, it’s normal, could be just hormones, or change in the weather, or stress,” She said, “Definitely stress, having Nathan as a boyfriend gotta be the most stressful thing ever, speaking of the devil, is he there?”

I shook my head, “No, we are fighting,” I mumbled, sniffing, “We kind of broke up…I think.”

Her eyes went wide, and she shifted on the couch, “Goddamn, that’s too much information for one phone call.”

She took a breath, visibly trying to steady herself. “Alright. Step one…breathing. We’re breathing now.” She demonstrated exaggeratedly with her hands. “In and out, in and out…”

I tried to follow her lead.

I shook my head. It didn’t work.

“Okay, look, it’s really late over there now, so why don’t you try and sleep, and first thing in the morning, get a test and call me.”

I shook my head, “I won’t be able to wait till the morning, Lilly,” I mumbled, “I can barely breathe right now.”

Her eyebrows pulled together, something akin to worry flickering in her gaze, “I know, you are right,” She said, sighing softly, “Okay, check for open stores near you.”

I nodded, fumbling with my phone.

“There’s one…twenty minutes from here.”

Lilly nodded back immediately. “Okay, go get it and call me the second you’re back,” she said, “and be careful, alright?”

I wiped under my eyes. “I’m sorry I’m bothering you with this,” I mumbled, still not entirely sure why she was the one I’d reached for out of everyone.

She shook her head, dismissing it. “Don’t say that, I might actually become an aunt soon, so—” Her eyes widened the moment she noticed the tears welling up in my eyes again. “I’m kidding,” she rushed out. “Kidding. I swear. Don’t cry.” She softened, smiling gently. “Come on now, go get the test and call me. I’ll be waiting.”

I nodded, bid my goodbye, and hung up.

I washed my face, threw on my puffy jacket, grabbed my phone and keys, and slipped out of my room. I moved down the stairs slowly, each step careful and quiet. It worked to my advantage that everyone was asleep.

With barely a sound, I slipped out of the house and into my car.

I checked the navigation system, set the destination, and drove there.

The roads were empty, barely a soul out there. By the time I pulled up outside the drugstore, the parking lot was almost vacant, the fluorescent lights inside spilling harshly onto the pavement as I hurried in.

I found the aisle and slowed, my gaze flicking over the wall of endless pregnancy tests like it was mocking me. I groaned under my breath and grabbed a random one.

Right beside them sat the stand of pads and tampons.

So very fitting.

I grabbed a box, purely as cover, an excuse in case Mom or Grandpa caught me later when I snuck back into the house.

Just as I turned, ready to get the hell out of there, I crashed straight into someone’s chest.

I stumbled back, my breath catching, and my eyes snapped upward, widening as they fell into two familiar hazel eyes…that now looked darker than ever.

Panic flared in my chest, and I hugged the box to my chest, hiding the pregnancy test behind it.

Nathan rested his hand over the shelf, his arm blocking my escape, crowding my space with ease, “You’re a hard thing to catch, aren’t you, princess?”

My heart slammed so violently against my ribs, I was sure he could hear it.

Oh god, where did he come from? Why now? I needed him far away until I figured this out.

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the box, wishing it would vanish. He couldn’t see it. He couldn’t…not before I was sure, not before I had answers myself.

He edged closer, and I instantly stepped backward, his presence looming, consuming, “What got you out of your hiding at this hour?” He asked, “Really thought Saint Charles had locked you inside his gilded castle.”

I couldn’t answer. My mouth refused to cooperate.

His gaze dipped, just for a second, to the box of tampons clutched to my chest. A slow smile tugged at his mouth. “Oh, that does bring back memories,” he said, almost lightly.

His eyes lifted to mine, so dark and calculating. “So,” he continued calmly, “how are we doing this?”

My throat worked. “Doing…what?”

He tilted his head, considering me like a problem he already knew how to solve.

“I could knock you down,” he said casually, his eyes flicking to the few customers at the end of the aisle, “carry you out and let everyone assume you fainted.”

He leaned in a fraction, “Or I could throw you over my shoulder and drag you out of here kicking and screaming.”

“I prefer the second option,” he said, almost amused. “I do enjoy it when you fight me.”

His gaze pinned me in place, “So, what’s it going to be?”

My pulse roared in my ears.

Oh my god, what should I do? How do I escape him now?

“How…how did you even know I was here?” I blurted, grasping for anything that might distract him from the way my hands were shaking.

He shrugged, infuriatingly casual.

I lowered my arms, clutching the box of tampons like a shield while I clumsily tried to slide the test up my jacket sleeve. My heart nearly stopped when his eyes dipped, always so damn observant.

I spoke fast. “Do you have a tracker on me or something?”

His gaze lifted back to mine, “Minor details we don’t need to discuss,” he said mildly.

I managed to wedge the test fully under my sleeve.

Barely.

His hand reached for my arm.

I flinched and yanked back. “Leave me alone,” I muttered.

He exhaled slowly, like he was counting to ten. “Aylin, let’s not trigger me any further.” His eyes darkened a shade. “I’m barely hanging by a thread, so you’re going to come with me, and you’re not going to make this difficult.”

“You do realize speaking like this makes me want to stay as far away from you as humanly possible?”

“I don’t fucking care,” he shot back.

His hand closed around my arm, and he started pulling me forward, like the decision had already been made.

“Nathan—” I struggled, trying to wrench free. “Nathan, let go…let me go.”

Think, Aylin. Think.

“You wanted us to talk, right? Let’s talk,” I blurted out, “I want to hear you out…let’s talk.”

He paused and turned to me, “I gave you a chance for that earlier, and you didn’t use it. Now you do as I say,” He said back coldly.

“What the—” I bit the inside of my cheek, swallowing the urge to shout and curse him. I forced my voice softer, sweeter, “Nathan, please, let’s just talk. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me through that, okay? I know. I was angry, but Mom and I talked, and she told me you didn’t hurt her—”

“She’s lying,” he cut in flatly. “Because I did smash her head against the wall.”

I winced.

“God, you make forgiving you so fucking hard, don’t you?”

I slammed my fist against his arm, more frustration than force, half terrified the test would slip, half wanting to hurt him the way he was hurting me.

He didn’t even flinch.

“So what are you going to do now, huh?” I snapped, abandoning any attempt at civility. “Kidnap me and lock me somewhere?”

He nodded, “Exactly that,” He said so casually, “I considered breaking into your grandfather’s house and taking you from there.” His mouth twitched. “But then again, you get strangely sensitive when I touch your family. So I waited for you to come to me.”

His gaze dropped briefly, like I was his goddamn prey, “And here you are.”

“Nathan, they are waiting for me to get back home,” I said, half lying, “If I don’t, they’ll know you did something, and Grandpa would come after you—”

“That would be the dream, wouldn’t it?”

“No—no,” I rushed out. “I just…I literally had to bargain with him not to hurt you.”

His eyebrow raised, “And why would you do that?”

I hit his arm again, harder this time. “Because I don’t want you getting hurt, you asshole!”

“Yeah,” he said, “It’s painfully obvious how little you care.”

Okay, this is not working. I needed…you know what, I needed tears, tears might work.

I was already a wreck, anyway.

I didn’t even have to fake it. I thought of the past few days, of our fight, of everything my mom told me, and the way everyone kept pulling me in opposite directions. I thought of this infuriating man, of the terrifying possibility curling in my stomach, of the idea that I might bring something innocent into a world this dangerous.

Something innocent I could harm…

Tears slid free almost on cue, no need for more convincing.

Nathan went still almost instantly.

His brows drew together as his gaze tracked the tears cutting down my cheek. “What—” He stopped himself. “Why are you crying?”

I shook my head and turned away.

He finally let go of my arm, and his hand reached for my face, near my cheek, so tenderly, “What’s wrong?” He asked, and I felt like the worst person ever for emotionally playing with him, but then again, I was already a mess, so this wasn’t an act, really.

“Did they do something?” His eyes searched my face, darkening just enough as his jaw ticked, “Did they hurt you?”

“What—no,” I muttered, sniffing, swiping at my cheek. “No one did anything.”

I lifted my gaze to his, forcing steadiness into my voice. “Let me pay for this,” I said quietly. “Then we can talk outside, okay?”

For a split second, I thought he might refuse.

He didn’t. Oh damn, tears do get the job done.

I slipped past him toward the cashier, wiping at my cheeks, my pulse hammering so loud it felt like it might give me away. The young guy behind the counter shot me a wary look, probably having witnessed just enough of our scene to know it wasn’t normal.

Nathan’s gaze never left me, which meant I couldn’t pull the test out.

Oh God. Please forgive me.

“Seven dollars,” the cashier said, sliding the item into a plastic bag.

My fingers dug into my pocket. I pulled out a crumpled hundred and handed it to him. “Keep the rest,” I mumbled, so very guilty for my theft.

His brows knit together. “Uh…it’s a hundred.”

I nodded quickly. “Yeah. Keep it. Have a good night.”

I grabbed the bag before he could argue, my hand slipping inside just long enough to let the pregnancy test drop into it, hidden beneath the box as I walked outside, Nathan so very close behind me.

I stopped near my car, my gaze flicking to his own parked right beside it. “So, uh…” I muttered, shifting on my feet, clutching the bag so tightly, “I’m all ears, go on.”

“Get in the car,” he said, already turning toward his. “You look cold.”

He didn’t wait for my words and was already heading there. I fished my phone out when it vibrated. It was a message from Lilly asking about what happened. I quickly typed that Nathan is here and is not letting me go.

Lilly: Oh shit. Let me see what I can do.

I read her message and quickly locked the phone, shoving it into my pocket when I felt him staring. He opened the passenger door and waited for me. I slid it silently, never once letting go of the bag.

When he got in on the driver’s side, an odd silence settled between us. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel like he was burning through patience, almost like he didn’t know what to say next.

Nathan always knew what to say, even when it was utter nonsense.

He turned his eyes to me, his voice measured, like he was barely holding himself together, “You’re shaken up,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Would it be okay if I tell you about it tomorrow?”

His jaw clenched, “That’s the thing, I don’t think I trust your tomorrows and empty promises.”

Ouch. I deserved that one.

Before I could say a thing, Lilly’s name flashed through the screen of his car. His gaze flicked to it, and he declined the call without hesitation, like swatting a fly.

“So, wh—”

He couldn’t resume his words because Lilly dialed him again. He declined her call again. She didn’t give up and dialed again, another decline.

She called yet again.

He let out a loud, irritated exhale, and I muttered, “Maybe it’s…important.”

Nathan’s eyes narrowed at the dashboard, then he hit answer.

“This better be about someone dying,” he grumbled, “or you’re going to pay.”

“What happened to ‘hello? How are you?'” Lilly shot back mockingly, “Where are your manners?”

“I don’t waste them on you,” he replied without missing a beat. “What do you want?”

“So, uhm, look…” She said, “Can I ask you for a favor?”

“I don’t recall owing you any favors.”

“You absolutely do,” she fired back. “Remember that time you almost drowned me? I’d like to cash that in now.”

My brows furrowed as I turned toward Nathan. “You drowned her?”

He sighed, rubbing his temple like this was exhausting him. “Family issues,” he said flatly. “Not important.”

“Excuse you, I could’ve died, very important,” Lilly shot back, “Anyway, back to my favor, can you…please, pretty please, let Aylin go back home?” She rushed on, lying more for my sake, “If she doesn’t, her family will come after you, and I only just started liking you. I don’t want you dead, so please, Nathan, pleeeeease.”

Nathan’s eyes slid to me slowly, one brow lifted at how I was using Lilly. The look alone had my spine curling inward, like I was bracing for impact.

Without a word, he ended the call, his fingers twitching over the wheel, like maybe he wanted to wrap them around my neck and snap it. I was really getting that vibe off him right now.

Then he leaned forward toward me. I gasped, but all he did was reach past me and shove the door open.

“You’d go through all that trouble,” he said quietly, “just to avoid coming back with me.”

He didn’t look at me when he finished, “You got what you wanted. Get out.“

“Nathan—”

“Get out before I change my mind, Aylin,” he snapped, finally turning to me, his eyes dark and wounded in a way that hurt worse than his anger ever could.

The chill in his tone wrapped around my heart, squeezing so tight it felt like something inside me cracked as I stepped out of the car.

I opened my car and shoved the cursed bag inside. When I looked back, he was already down, leaning against the hood, his back half-turned to me, restless energy radiating off him in waves.

His hand lifted, he clenched, then unclenched it, again and again, like he was teaching his body not to break something.

I swallowed hard.

I couldn’t leave him like that.

My feet carried me back before my mind could argue. I stopped just close enough for him to sense me. He turned then, his gaze snapping to mine, sharp and raw and angry all at once.

I lifted my hand and curled my fingers around his. God, they were so warm. “I know you don’t trust my words now, but tomorrow, I mean it, we’ll talk. We have to talk,” Especially if the test comes out positive.

His jaw tightened, his gaze slipping away, but he didn’t pull his hand from mine.

I rose on my toes, my other hand lifting slowly to his face. I brushed my thumb along his cheekbone, felt the tension there, and met his eyes again.

“It’s not over,” I whispered. “I don’t think it can ever be over between us.”

“But I need time, I need…space.” I swallowed. “Please try to understand my position, Nathan, understand that this hurts me too.”

Before doubt could stop me, I leaned in and pressed the softest peck to his lips.

It was barely there, and it detonated through me anyway.

His breath hitched against mine, like the fight inside him cracked open just enough to let the tension bleed out. For a second, neither of us moved. His forehead dropped to mine, his eyes closing as if the weight of the moment was too heavy to carry while looking at me.

We stayed like that, breathing each other in, suspended in a fragile temporary truce.

When I finally pulled back, our hands were still tangled between us, fingers curled like they didn’t know how to exist apart.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I murmured. “Okay?”

He didn’t trust himself to speak. He just gave a small nod.

I took a step back.

Our fingers loosened, slowly, reluctantly, pads of skin dragging, holding on for one second too long. Then his hand fell away.

The cold rushed in instantly.

I turned before I could change my mind, before my body betrayed me, and forced myself to walk back to my car.

When I got home, I rushed straight to the bathroom, followed the instructions with shaking hands, then set the test down on the sink like it might explode if I looked at it too long. I propped my phone against the mirror and dialed Lilly.

She answered almost immediately.

“God,” she muttered, exhaling loudly. “That was so stressful.”

A weak breath left me. “He’s mad at you now, isn’t he?” I asked, guiltily.

“Oh, absolutely. He texted me that I’m first on his hit list now,” She shrugged it off like it was nothing. “I can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but since it’s Nathan, I’m calling Emma for backup.” She said, “You can never be too careful. The man is scary.”

Despite myself, my lips twitched at her tone.

Then the panic came rushing back, with full force, stealing the air from my lungs. My fingers curled at my sides, my gaze flicking back to the test on the sink.

Lilly noticed instantly.

“Hey,” she said softly, bringing the phone closer. “Look at me. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it, okay?” Her voice lowered, almost like she understood all of this better than I did. “I promise. We’ll figure it out somehow.”

I swallowed hard, nodding my head, “Thank you, Lilly, I…” I mumbled lowly, ready to burst back into tears when the timer rang, silencing me.

My heart stuttered.

“It’s…time, right?” Lilly asked gently.

I nodded as I carefully reached for the test.

One look.

That was all it took.

The world blurred instantly, tears crashing in heavy, relentless waves until I couldn’t see anything clearly anymore. I clutched the plastic stick in both hands, squeezing hard, almost as if I pressed enough, I could erase it, crush it, make it a lie.

My breath fractured. My chest burned. My hands shook as if my body already knew something I wasn’t ready to understand.

“It’s…it’s positive,” I whispered.

⊹˚₊‧──────────────────────‧₊˚⊹

Author’s note:

Again, I am so awesome for updating so fast, I know. Nathan gets his ego from me I guess xD

Anyways, what’s your thoughts? 😉

See ya soon 🤰🏼