Chapter 52

“Loving her
meant trusting
she’d find her way back to me.“

Aylin’s POV

It came back to me in pieces.

First, the sound…this steady, infuriating beeping in the background, threading through the darkness around me.

Then, the weight of it stretched beneath my limbs, pressing me down, holding me in place. My body felt…far away, my limbs heavy, and pain rested quietly in my throat.

A breath slipped out of me. God, it burned on the way out.

I swallowed. That hurt too.

My lashes fluttered, but the darkness didn’t leave right away, clinging stubbornly as my senses struggled to return, piece by piece.

My breath hitched, and the pain followed. It tore through my neck, a reminder I couldn’t outrun, the world forcing me to see it…relive it over and over again.

Riley.

Her name didn’t feel like a memory anymore. It felt like a wound reopening, one that had never healed, one that would bleed out every single time I dared to remember.

My eyes snapped open, and light flooded in, bright and too white, slicing through everything at once.

For a second, I just…stared at the ceiling, waiting for something to make sense, to feel real as they rushed in all at once, the memories, images, fragments…bleeding into each other with no order and no mercy, no way to separate what was before from what I had done.

My eyelids dropped shut again, pressing hard like I could crush it back into silence, force it out of me…but it stayed. My fingers twisted into the mattress, and I winced; even my hand hurt so badly.

“Nathan…” I whispered, but it barely came out, scratching against my aching throat. I pressed my eyes tighter, felt the tears escape from the corner of my eyes. Oh my god…what have I done?

My lips tried to form his name again, but my throat didn’t cooperate. More tears gathered beneath my closed lids, escaping on the side, trickling down my temples. I needed Nathan…I needed to see him, explain it to him, fix it, undo it…I need Nathan, I need him, where is he?

Panic flickered weakly beneath the exhaustion. I forced my eyes open again, prying them apart before my head turned slowly to my uninjured side, blinking to clear my blurry vision, searching for him.

My eyes fell on grandpa instead, who was sitting in the chair next to me, his posture far too tense, his gaze fixed on his intertwined hands in his lap, lost in many thoughts.

Something in my chest cracked open, and the guilt came rushing in, wrapping around my ribs as I thought of what I made him go through again, of what I probably made him do all those years ago…

My gaze had him lift his head, his eyes falling on me. They widened slightly, sobering up as he moved, standing up, getting closer, “Aylin…hey,” he whispered.

I tried to move, to pull myself up, to meet him halfway, but the pain tore through me. A broken sound slipped from my throat as my body folded back against the bed, my eyes squeezing shut as I tried to hold it in.

“No—no, don’t…” he murmured quickly, his hand coming to my shoulder, gently easing me back down. “Don’t move, sweetheart…don’t.”

I opened my eyes again, my brows furrowing deeper in quiet sorrow as the tears came faster now, blurring everything in front of me.

He shook his head softly, his own eyes glassy and anguished, his voice barely holding.

“Aylin, sweetheart…it’s okay,” he whispered, cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin, wiping away tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “It’s okay…”

It wasn’t.

Nothing about this was okay.

“Grandpa, I…” My voice came out so broken and low, “Riley…she…”

He shook his head immediately, not letting me go there yet.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice heavier now, “I know…but we don’t have to talk about it right now, just rest,” he urged gently, brushing my hair back from my face, “We’ll talk about everything later, okay? Slowly…we’ll take it slow.”

“The doctor told me to call him when you wake up,” he added softly. “I’ll have him check on you first…then…then we’ll talk about it. Not now.”

I sniffled, my chest so tight, and nodded weakly.

He nodded back, relief flickering across his exhausted face as he gazed at me. His hand moved again, smoothing my hair back, his fingers trembling just slightly.

“God…” he breathed, “You scared your old man so much…”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my heart shattering again, recalling every second of it, the shard in my hand, my words, Nathan’s frantic eyes, his fear as I drove the glass into my neck, almost like I killed something inside him with it.

His horrified eyes were the last thing I saw, the last thing I remember before the world turned to black.

Where is he? Did grandpa kick him out?

My eyes involuntarily drifted to the door…Is he outside? My fingers twitched slightly against the sheets. I could almost feel him…his hand wrapped around mine, the warmth of him, his scent surrounding me like he was right here not so long ago.

Grandpa brushed near my temple, pulling my gaze back to him before I could get lost in it. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

But I did. I had everything to apologize for.

“Let me go get the doctor, okay?” he added gently. “I’ll be back quickly.”

I nodded my head, my throat too achy, too clogged up for me to form words. I watched him as he walked to the door, opened it, and slipped outside. My gaze stayed focused there, expecting Nathan to walk through it any second now.

That’s what Nathan does, right? He doesn’t wait, doesn’t knock, doesn’t stay away even when he shouldn’t be here. He’ll walk in, barge into my life, crash into it, undoing it, distorting it in a way that feels much better than anything I have ever built out of control and order.

I waited, and waited…but none of that happened.

Grandpa came back a couple of minutes later, followed by the doctor and the nurse. I barely saw them, barely heard them, barely felt them fix the bed up, barely felt the hands checking my wound, adjusting something, asking questions I didn’t answer.

My eyes stayed on the door, my lower lip quivering till I dragged it between my teeth, biting down hard enough to feel something. He is here. He will walk in any minute now, he is probably just waiting for grandpa to leave so that they won’t fight in front of me…that’s all. He is here, I am sure.

When the doctor was done, he walked out, and I felt grandpa’s hand on mine, squeezing it softly, trying to pull me back. As if to twist the knife deeper into my gaping wound, just as the doctor walked out of that door, Mom and Dad walked in.

Mom’s gaze found me first. Her eyes were already red, swollen, spilling over before she even reached me. I saw the moment relief broke through her, the way her chest lifted, like she’d been holding her breath for days, and then she was beside me, her hands on my face.

“Aylin,” her voice cracked as she leaned closer, pulling me into her ever so carefully, cradling the back of my head, “Baby, I’m so sorry…oh god, I thought—I thought I lost you.”

My body stayed immobile, my fingers tight over the mattress, not moving up and hugging her back. I blinked at the far distance, and a few tears trickled down my face. I didn’t want her here, I didn’t want them here, not after everything I remembered, not after recalling exactly why they didn’t love me.

Shame crawled up my spine, and the guilt followed, pressing down on my heart like it deserved to be crushed. I didn’t want them to witness how their abnormal girl hurt herself yet again.

I blinked, and my blurry gaze found Dad. He was standing right beside the bed now, looking at me like nothing had ever been wrong, like I hadn’t done this, like I hadn’t been the reason everything broke.

His head tilted slightly, his lips lifting just enough to resemble a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Exhaustion lived there. Fear. Relief tangled so tightly it almost hurt to look at.

He stepped closer, leaning down next to Mom. He reached for my hand, gently loosening my fingers from the sheets, untangling them. His hand closed around mine, and he brought it to his mouth, pressing his lips against my skin while Mom’s quiet sobs trembled against my shoulder.

When she pulled back, her hands came to my face, brushing away my tears and smoothing my hair back.

I looked between them, lost and scared, “I am so sorry, I…”

I didn’t know what else to say, how to convey such soul-crushing guilt. I know I’ll never have something normal with them. I know that maybe they don’t hate me now, but once upon a time, they did, and I can’t blame them. I’d hate me too.

Mom shook her head, “Aylin, it…it doesn’t matter, okay?”

I nodded, “It does,” My voice was still so weak, “I hurt my sister, your daughter…I am the one who broke this family apart, I…” My eyes flickered between them, searching, pleading, breaking all over again. “I saw her…Riley, she’s alive. I saw her.”

It couldn’t have been my unstable mind conjuring up images and fantasies. She was so real. She was there. She had to be there, right?

Mom nodded slowly, like that fact didn’t shock her the way it shattered me. More tears gathered in her eyes, deepening the green I knew so well, the same color as mine but not quite the same as Riley’s.

God…I still remember her face, her eyes, the way she looked at me—

Dad’s arm came around my shoulders, pulling me into him before I fully spiraled. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his breath uneven against my hair. “I didn’t know that she…” he started, his voice low, “I didn’t know that she was going after you like this. I had no idea…your sister, she’s—”

I pulled back just enough to look at him, confusion cutting lines over my forehead, “I’ll talk to her, she won’t hurt you. She’s a kid, Aylin…she’s just hurt, but she won’t cause you any harm. I promise.”

I didn’t understand a thing. He knew? Did mom know, too?

Before I could ask, before I could even form the question, the door opened again, and the nurse stepped inside, her words polite as she asked them to leave so she could change my dressing.

My eyes flickered past them to Grandpa. He was standing at a distance now, like he had stepped back on purpose the second they came in.

I turned back to the nurse, “Can he stay?”

She followed my gaze, then nodded. “Yeah, sure, one person can stay.”

I turned back to grandpa and extended my hand forward toward him. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he stepped forward, taking my hand in his. I didn’t miss the way dad shot him a harsh glare before he walked out, and the way grandpa flashed him a similar murderous look.

Grandpa took his seat beside me while the nurse worked, her hands careful as she unwrapped and redressed the wound on my neck, then my hand. I watched none of it. Felt most of it, but not really.

Pain had already settled too deep to matter.

When she finally left, I turned my head to Grandpa, “Can you tell me everything?”

He nodded, his hand tightening around mine protectively as he told me the truth of it all. He started from that day at the pool, from the moment everything shattered, and unraveled the truth I had been kept away from for years.

He told me how Riley didn’t die. She lived, and that he had her again now. How mom didn’t know, not until an hour ago, and dad…dad was the one who took her away, who hid her, protected her from him. How the rehab was just a lie, an excuse, a way for him to vanish without questions, to stay away long enough to take care of her in the shadows…

The room felt smaller, the walls closing in around me. Everything shifted again, everything I thought I knew tilted upside down, and I didn’t know where I stood in it anymore.

I blinked up at him, my tears never once drying. I hated today. I hated it so much. “Why…” my voice broke before I could steady it, “Why did you do that, grandpa?”

He shook his head, his jaw clenching tight, “You got better, Aylin, when she was gone…when there was no Riley anymore, you got so much better.”

His hand came up to my face, brushing my tears away again and again, like if he just kept doing it, they’d stop eventually. “I know it was wrong,” he whispered, his thumb trembling slightly against my cheek. “I know…but I think I would do it all over again for you.”

I sniffled, “But she had no fault, she is…she is your granddaughter too.”

He nodded, his brows pulling closer in anguish and guilt, “But she is not you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, the pain tearing through my chest unbearable, “But grandpa…”

“I know,” he cut in softly, “I know it’s wrong. You can blame me…hate me if you want, I’ll take it, I—”

“I could never hate you,” I mumbled, “But Riley is the one who paid the price of my…” I slammed the heel of my palm to my temple in anger, “…my disease. It’s not fair.”

He took my hand in his, moved it away from my head and into his lap, “And everything you went through was not fair either, you didn’t choose this, Aylin, you didn’t do it on purpose, you…god, every time you hurt her, the guilt wrecked you, and you were so young, you barely understood it, yet you always punished yourself after it.”

His eyelids fell for a second as he tried to gather himself, “I couldn’t…I couldn’t lose you, too.”

He pried them open, and they were glassy and dimmed with pain. “You know…your grandmother was the one who wanted to name you Aylin. She watched this movie once, and she heard it there and just loved it.”

His lips twitched faintly, like the memory hurt and comforted him at the same time.

“She told your mother. Layla didn’t like it at first, but your grandmother…she tried to convince her.”

He brushed my hair back from my face, his thumb lingering near my temple. “She said it was so unique, and that you are going to be a special girl.”

My chest tightened painfully, “Last time I saw her…the last time…before she died, she told me to look after you, she said Layla was the way she was because of her, that she didn’t have the best example of a mother…and that she would need me, that you would need me.”

His breath hitched, “She died the next day…and two months later, you were born.”

He looked at me like I was this miracle, the one thing in his life that made it worth it, “If it wasn’t for you, I am sure I would’ve died right after her. You were the only thing that kept me going, Aylin. You were my little special girl.”

A sob caught in my chest, but didn’t make it out.

“I’m sorry,” he added quietly, shaking his head, regret settling into every line of his face. “I’m so sorry I projected all of my problems on you, that I allowed my own pain to dictate the way you lived, that I interfered in your childhood, stopped you from getting any form of treatment, that I always fought with your parents, that I couldn’t just—”

He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head, “I…god, but that’s the thing, sweetheart, I was, and I still am ready to sacrifice everyone for you, even…even your own sister.”

I lifted my hand slowly, brushing the tear that slipped from the corner of his eye, my fingers lingering against his skin like I didn’t know how to comfort a man who had never once needed it before. Seeing him like this…it felt wrong. That even my strong, confident grandpa could flail.

I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist, holding him the way he had always held me, “Even after all these years, it still hurts to think about her, doesn’t it?”

He hugged me back, pulling me closer to him, and I felt him nod against me before his chin settled on the top of my head.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, and I felt the tremor that passed through him. “She was my one and only, after all.”

Something inside me flinched. My heart clenched so tight, my eyes flickering back to the closed door. Nathan called me that once—his one and only.

Is that what this is? A fucked up prophecy of some kind?

Will we follow the same pattern, the same quiet tragedy, where love doesn’t save us…only decides which one of us is left behind to mourn it?

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

Nathan hasn’t shown up yet.

He didn’t barge through the door I’ve been staring at all night, didn’t climb through the window, didn’t appear from under the bed or out of the closet, because to be honest, I expected him to.

I expected him to come and see me anyway, but he hasn’t yet, and that only added to my anxiousness and worry. He is okay, isn’t he?

Mom and Dad stayed longer than they should have, their presence so goddamn suffocating. I stayed quiet, hid behind the excuse of exhaustion, because I couldn’t face them, not yet. I couldn’t pretend everything was okay or that we were the perfect normal family.

Dad and Grandpa’s hostility was not to be missed. Even Mom seemed to be arguing with Dad about something, about Riley, I supposed. When the nurse announced that only one person could stay the night, I chose grandpa for sure.

By this point, I was already thinking of asking him about Nathan. Maybe he knew something. Maybe he’d tell me. Because the worst-case scenarios were already weaving themselves inside my head, driving me slowly out of my own mind.

So when Grandpa got a phone call and stepped out of the room, I pushed myself up despite the ache tearing through me, my gaze moving left and right searching for my phone. When I couldn’t find it, I slid the drawer next to me open.

My eyes fell on its contents, and relief rushed through me. I instinctively reached for it, but my hand froze midway.

Next to the phone was a…notebook. No, not just any notebook. This is…this is Nathan’s. The one he always kept near, scribbling on it every now and then, never once letting me sneak a single peek.

My fingers trembled as I reached for it, slower this time, and pulled it out.

It looked worn in a way that came from too much use. The cover was dark, almost black, softened at the edges like it had been handled too many times. The corners were slightly bent, the spine creased, as if it had been opened and closed more times than it should have been.

It felt heavier than it should have been, like it wasn’t just paper and ink, like it held parts of him he never let anyone see.

When I moved it closer to my lap, something slipped from between the pages.

I blinked down.

A small black velvet pouch had fallen against my thigh. For a second, I just stared at it. My mind refused to catch up or understand the fact that Nathan must’ve placed these here himself…that he was here. He was here…

Slowly, I rested the notebook over my lap, my fingers hovering before reaching for the pouch.

The velvet felt smooth beneath my touch, and my fingers brushed over the two thin drawstrings knotted at the ends before I pulled. The cords loosened, the fabric opening, and I tilted the pouch slightly over my palm and let its contents fall.

A soft metallic whisper met my skin.

The chain slipped first, pooling into my hand before the pendant followed…a crescent moon, a curve lined with tiny diamonds that flickered with every movement, like starlight trapped along its edge, and suspended within it hung a single north star.

My fingers curled around it instinctively. God, it was so beautiful, but that wasn’t what stole the breath from my lungs. It was what it meant.

A piece of paper had slipped from the notebook, too. I picked it up, unfolded it. My hands weren’t steady anymore as I read the words scribbled there.

I didn’t even feel the tears slipping until one of them fell against the page in my hand.

I froze.

My breath caught as I stared at the dark spot it left behind, blooming slowly over the words like it was trying to swallow them whole. I sniffled, quick, panicked, blinking the rest away as I brushed it off with trembling fingers, terrified I might ruin the words…his words.

It felt…it felt like they were the only piece of him I had left, and I was already destroying them.

The meaning behind each of them cut me deep, another shard of glass, but this time, not in my neck, it tore right through my chest.

I rested the page next to me, dragged the back of my hand beneath my eyes, and opened the notebook. My fingers slid over the first page, then the next, flipping, turning, searching. God, every page was filled. Words. Lines. Verses, messy in places, rushed in others, scratched out, rewritten…

From start to finish, it was all him.

A map of his messy head.

He told me once he didn’t trust me enough to let me read it.

So why…why leave it for me now?

My fingers tightened around the edges as I flipped back to the beginning, my vision blurring again as I forced myself to read the first poem.

It was describing the first time he saw me, on that airplane. I flipped to the next one…it was about me, too.

Another one.

Still me.

Every line, every word, every thought…me.

A broken sound slipped out of me, somewhere between a breath and a sob, and I snapped the notebook shut, the weight of it suddenly too much, too full. I pulled it to my chest, hugging it tight like I could hold him through it, like I could press him back into existence if I just didn’t let go.

My fingers curled tighter around the necklace still in my hand, the sharp edge of the crescent moon biting into my palm.

I don’t know what came over me. I don’t know what broke loose inside my chest, but suddenly, staying still felt impossible.

I let the necklace slip from my hand, falling softly onto the bed. My legs moved before my mind could catch up, sliding over the edge of the mattress, my feet meeting the cold floor, sending a sharp shiver up my spine.

I pushed myself up. The pain flared, but I ignored it.

I kept one arm wrapped tightly around the notebook, pressing it to my chest while my other hand reached blindly for the IV stand, my fingers curling around the metal pole for support.

I pushed it with me, walking barefoot, only socks against the cold floor as I opened the door and left the room.

I looked left and right. The corridor was empty, silent, lights flickering faintly above, casting shadows that moved when nothing else did. I moved aimlessly, looking for him in every corner, every nook and cranny, like if I just searched hard enough, he’d appear, like this was just another one of his games.

He had to be here.

He had to be.

I walked the corridor back and forth…twice, the sound of the IV wheels dragging across the polished floor echoing hollowly, mixing with the sound of my heart splintering into pieces.

I reached the far end again, where there was a window reflecting the dark black sky above, a few distant stars flickering weakly in the distance, and there, like a cruel, silent joke of fate…a crescent moon, so beautifully hanging in the sky.

A sharp breath tore out of me as I stumbled forward and crashed against the wall beside it, my back hitting hard, the impact barely registering as I slid just enough to lean into it, to hold myself up.

My arms tightened around the notebook, crushing it against my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Nathan,” I whispered to no one, my tears falling down my cheeks, one after the other.

He wasn’t here. He left…he actually left. I drove him away. What did I expect? That I could press a shard to my neck, threaten him, push him away, ask him to leave me, and he’d still stay?

After making him go through all of my messiness, I finally managed to drive him away from me. The thought alone hollowed me out from the inside.

My ears caught the sound of nearing footsteps, and for one fragile, fleeting second, hope bloomed, so sharply it knocked the air from my lungs. My eyes snapped open. My heart lurched…only to stutter.

It wasn’t him.

It was Adam.

Standing a few feet away, his brows drawn tight, his gaze sweeping over me warily, like he didn’t quite know what he was looking at. His head tilted slightly, confusion and concern mixing in his expression.

“Are you okay?”

I blinked the tears away and stepped forward, my eyes taking him in. If he’s here, then—

“Is Nathan here?” I asked quickly, breathlessly.

Adam blinked, and he shook his head, crashing my dreams and hopes all over again.

“Where is he?” I mumbled weakly.

Something flickered in Adam’s eyes, worry and hesitation, and so much more. He simply shook his head. “I’m not supposed to say,” he murmured.

He doesn’t even want me to know…

My gaze dropped from his face to the floor, to the polished white tiles reflecting the harsh lights above, to my white socks.

God, it must’ve been quite the scene.

Me—standing there in a hospital gown, barefoot, clutching a notebook to my chest, wandering the corridor aimlessly, my face and eyes soaked with tears. Pathetic…but then again, I was never normal to begin with, never the sane one in the room.

I thought about walking, going to my room, collapsing into the bed, letting the darkness take me again, but I couldn’t move. Adam must’ve sensed the dip in my energy because I felt his fingers curl over my arm, “Hey…” he said softly, so careful and gentle, “Let me take you back to your room.”

I let him guide me back, let him help me get into bed. He tried to take the notebook away from me, but the second his fingers brushed it, I pulled away. My head lifted, something defensive flashing through me as I glared at him.

He blinked in shock and raised his hands up in surrender, “Okay, as you want,” He mumbled, a small, almost apologetic smile tugging at his lips.

I leaned back against the pillow, the weight of everything settling heavier into my bones, and Adam turned, his mission done, already halfway to the door.

“If you talk to him, can you tell him I am sorry?” I mumbled.

My words had him pause, turning around to look at me. He nodded his head, “Yeah…sure,” he said, and it took him a longer second to turn back and head for the door.

Just as he was about to step outside, Grandpa was walking in. His eyes fell on Adam, but he didn’t seem shocked at all. They even exchanged a couple of words before Adam left.

Grandpa looked at me, his eyes flickering to the notebook in my arms as he walked closer, almost carefully, as if scared to trigger the wrong wire in my head.

“Nathan was the one who brought you here in time,” Grandpa started the conversation, all on his own, for some reason, “The doctor said if it wasn’t for him keeping pressure on your wound the way he did, you wouldn’t have…” He trailed off, swallowing the rest. “You wouldn’t have made it.”

My hand moved before I could stop it, rising to my neck, brushing over the bandage like I could still feel his hands there.

“He stayed here?” I asked.

Grandpa nodded as he came closer, sitting on the edge of the bed beside me, “Yeah, right here, next to you, every night. He didn’t sleep, not once, for four days straight.”

I blinked in quiet shock, not just at what he said, but at the ease in his voice, like speaking about Nathan had somehow become normal. The last time they stood in the same room, I remember thinking he might actually snap his neck.

“I still hate the guy,” Grandpa added, almost gruffly, like he needed to remind himself of it. “But I can’t deny that he really cares about you.”

“I love him, Grandpa…I love him so much, and I drove him away,” I whispered, the confession slipping out before I could stop it. I just had to let it out.

He reached for my hand, “You didn’t drive him away, sweetheart,” He said, “He left so he could protect you.”

I let out a hollow breath, shaking my head again, refusing it, rejecting it, because it didn’t feel like protection.

It felt like the cruelest loss of my life.

“Then why does it feel like this?” I whispered, my hand pressing against my chest, right over the ache, over the place that felt like it was splitting open from the inside. “Why does it hurt like this?”

Grandpa shifted closer, his expression tightening, something helpless flickering through it, “What do you want me to do, Aylin?” he asked quietly, “If you want me to bring him back here, I will. If you want me to take you to him before he leaves, I would.”

My brows pulled closer, “Before he…leaves?”

Grandpa nodded, “He told me he is going back to England in two days.”

He is moving back there? I shouldn’t be shocked. He told me that I was the only reason he even stayed here. He is really leaving…

God, I miss him already…it’s killing me. How am I supposed to survive any of this?

I want to go to him, run to him, stop him, grab his face, and tell him I’m sorry for pushing him away, for having an abnormal brain that made me break all of my promises.

“You’d take me to him?”

“I would, really…but I’d rather not, because you know that his presence hurts you, Aylin, I am sure you do.”

I won’t lie and say I didn’t notice it, because I did. Every time he got closer, I slipped further.

The episodes, the gaps, the unraveling…it all grew louder, more frequent the more I let myself need him. The more I loved him, the less of me seemed to stay intact. He was my curse and my cure.

I saw it. I knew it. But I buried it, buried it so deep I almost convinced myself it wasn’t there. Because saying it out loud meant losing him, and I wasn’t ready for that kind of emptiness.

“If he chose to do the selfless thing and stay away from you,” Grandpa continued gently, “shouldn’t you respect that…and let him?”

I sniffled and looked at him, and in his eyes I didn’t just see my grandfather…I saw a future, already written, already waiting for me to step into it.

If Nathan stayed, this wouldn’t end any differently. It would only repeat. I would become the fracture in him, the slow, quiet undoing he wouldn’t even notice until it was too late.

Either I’d hurt him the way I hurt Riley…or worse, I’d leave him alive and turn his life into waiting, into watching me unravel, into loving me through fear, through doubt, through every version of me that slips out of reach.

Then, one day, years from now, he’d be standing where Grandpa is…still breaking, still aching, still loving something that ruined him, still carrying a ghost decades later.

“Tell me, sweetheart, what is it that you want, and I’ll do it,” He added, “You know I’ll do anything for you.”

I loosened my grip on the notebook, letting it settle into my lap.  The tension slipped from my shoulders slowly as a different kind of determination rose in me.

“I shouldn’t be left alone. I want to be admitted to a…psychiatric hospital,” I kept looking down at my lap, playing with the edges of the notebook, “I know that this lesion in my head is something phyical and won’t just disappear, but it’s also tied up to all of my traumas and all of my emotions, and I shouldn’t be left alone to my devices, or else I will end up hurting someone, or…or myself again.”

Mom has Riley now. She and Dad finally have her back. They’ll try to piece together the years they lost, build something that was taken from them…and I shouldn’t be part of that. I’ll only break it again. I should stay far away from Riley. I’ve already hurt her enough.

I looked up at grandpa, “I want you not to stop me. I want you to help me, Grandpa. I want you to let me do this.” I said. “I’m not a kid anymore…I’m not scared of that place anymore.”

His jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might crack. He hated it, I knew he did. I saw it in his eyes, the past colliding with the present, how he associated such a place with Grandma killing herself.

He nodded his head, nevertheless, “Okay, we will do this.”

Something inside me stilled, this weird sense of…acceptance.

My fingers tightened around the notebook, pressing it against my chest, feeling the faint outline of the necklace still resting on the bed beside me.

I didn’t reach for it. I didn’t reach for him.

Because if I did, I knew I wouldn’t stop.

So I stayed still, and in that stillness, I did the only thing I had left to give him…I let him go.

Like the moon slipping out of the sky, leaving the wolf behind to learn how to live with the dark.

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Nathan’s POV

I was on my back on the bed, staring at a single black dot on the ceiling, so tiny and wrong and out of place.

Luna was snuggling into me, curling herself between my shoulder and neck, something wet brushing my skin, either she was sniffing me or licking me. She’s been glued to me since I got back home. Missed me, apparently, or she could sense the damage…

I turned my head, brushed her grey furry head.  She answered by kneading my shoulder like it was dough.

“Yeah, I know you’re sad,” I muttered, “Mommy and daddy are getting a divorce, and you are stuck with me, unlucky you.”

She meowed back, almost as if she understood me and was protesting, disagreeing with the divorce, not the custody.

“I know, I know. You prefer her,” I said, scratching behind her ear. “Can’t blame you, she’s prettier and softer, I’d prefer her too.”

Luna scratched my neck with her paws before she bit my earlobe, just enough to say you’re not funny.

“Right, okay, got it,” I huffed, pushing her small head away, but she edged closer again and licked the same spot she’d just bitten.

Mixed signals she was giving me.

Such a classic woman she is. Reminds me of a certain blondie who promised to follow me everywhere, and then the next day threatened me to leave her, with a shard pressed to her throat.

I let my head fall back into the pillow with a loud huff, my eyes drifting to the ceiling again, to that stupid dot that refused to disappear no matter how long I stared at it.

The achy, breathless feeling didn’t leave me be, didn’t loosen or fade. It sat there, lodged somewhere between my ribs and my lungs. Fucking annoying.

It hadn’t left me since I walked out of her room yesterday, since I stepped out of that hospital, since I got into my car and did the one thing I never do…I didn’t turn back.

“Hey,” I said after a second, “So, hypothetically speaking…”

Luna’s ear twitched…she was listening to me, my little baby.

“If someone almost bleeds out in front of you,” I went on, “and you save them, which—by the way—very heroic of me, we’re not glossing over that…anyway, and then you leave them all alone the second they wake up, but for their own sake…that’s called self-control, right? Like growth and all that bullshit, right?”

Luna headbutted my chin during her restless movements, trying to knock some sense into me.

“Okay, don’t get aggressive,” I groaned. “I’m making valid points.”

She meowed aggressively before climbing higher onto my chest. She planted herself there and looked down at me, definitely judging my life choices.

“You think I should’ve stayed?”

She turned her head away, then let out a soft mrrp, almost disapprovingly.

“Is that a yes?” I shot back at her, playfully smacking her little head, “You should agree with me, I am your father, you can’t betray your own bloodline.”

She ignored me, started kneading my chest instead, probably testing whether I still had a heart left in there because I couldn’t feel it either.

“I know what it looks like,” I muttered, dragging a hand over my face, exhaling slowly, like I could push it out of me if I tried hard enough.

Didn’t fucking work.

“But she’s much better off without me,” I said, the words tasting like fucking poison, “You saw her. I mean, not literally, you’re a cat, but hypothetically. I’m a disaster, so is she. Two disasters don’t cancel out, they multiply.”

She lifted her paw and scratched me near my jaw, making me groan. I caught her paw mid-swipe and flicked it away. “Shut up, you don’t get a vote, you lick your own feet for fun.”

A knock echoed against my bedroom door, cutting me off, and before I could pretend I wasn’t here, the door pushed open anyway. Lilly popped her head inside, brows knitting together as she scanned the room, “Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” I grumbled.

She stepped in anyway, because boundaries are apparently optional for her, and shut the door behind her. Her eyes dragged over me slowly, narrowing just enough to say you look like shit without actually saying it, before she dropped onto the edge of the bed.

Her attention shifted to Luna, currently sprawled across my chest, purring softly. Lilly smiled, “Aww, she is so cute.” She brought her hand and brushed Luna’s head.

I slapped her hand away, “Don’t touch my cat.”

She slapped my hand back and glared at me, “Why are you grumpier than usual?”

“Why are you here?”

She shot me a glare and shifted, leaning back against the headboard like she planned to settle in. I tried to shove her away, but she didn’t budge, just kept batting my hand away every time I tried again.

“Look, I did not go through the deeply awkward, uncomfortable experience of knocking on your door and having Christian open it for you to kick me out.”

I scoffed. “When are you going to leave my friend alone?” I shot back, punching her arm.

She winced, clutching it, then glared at me. “What the hell did I do? How was I supposed to know he’d be here?”

I narrowed my eyes at her as I pulled myself up, resting my back next to her. “When did you get here?”

“This morning,” she said, “I dropped by the hospital to check on Aylin, and to my absolute shock, you weren’t there.”

My jaw clenched, realizing that she saw Aylin all awake, even talked to her…I hate Lilly. Actually, no, correction, I think I am going to hate anyone capable of existing in the same space as my pri…as Aylin from now on.

Being petty is all I have left, I guess…

I turned to her, my hand moving on autopilot to brush over Luna’s head, who was fast asleep over my lap now, “How is she?”

Lilly shrugged sadly, her lips pressing into a thin line, “Not…so good,” she mumbled, “What do you expect?”

I let my head fall back against the headboard, shoulders sinking as that familiar burn lit up in my chest again, chewing through me from the inside out.

Lilly nudged me with her elbow, softer this time, her voice dropping. “Are you really leaving tomorrow?”

I nodded, turning my head just enough to look at her.

Her brows pulled together. “So, when Chase and I decide to move back here…you’re moving away?”

I blinked. “You’re moving back?”

She nodded, “My project will be done soon, and we just…” she shrugged, “We just missed home so much.”

Must feel good, to have a home you could fall back into…and to think I almost had that after all those fucking years.

“I think it’s better this way. I should be kept far away from your prince charming of a boyfriend, or I might—” I barely got the words out before she smacked my arm.

“When will you stop this petty feud with him?”

“Uh…never?”

She rolled her eyes, then sighed loudly, crossing her arms and looking away like she was done with me as a person. I kept my eyes on her. “When you come back, just…keep an eye on her, like, hang out with her often. She doesn’t have many friends, and for some questionable reason, she loves you, so don’t leave her alone.”

Fuck, why did the thought alone clench my heart so tightly…

Lilly’s face softened, her head tilting slightly as she nodded. “Isn’t there anything we could do…so you could stay?” she mumbled lowly, sadness quenching her brows.

I shook my head, “It’s not that simple.”

She huffed a breath, looking down at her hands. “I really liked you two together, actually, no, I think I liked you better when you were together.” She glanced at me sideways. “You both brought out something good in each other. I’ve never seen her like that…and you?” She added playfully, “Well, you were almost tolerable for once.”

I shot her a glare, and she grinned back.

Her arm came around my shoulder, pulling me into her side, “I’m sorry,” she mumbled genuinely, her head leaning against my arm.

I let my head drop against hers, exhaling quietly.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Me too.”

“I wish there was something I could do,” she muttered helplessly.

Her hand slid from my shoulder into my hair, fingers threading through it gently. “I know how it feels,” she added, softer this time.

“How could you?” I muttered. “You got your prince charming back after all.”

She pulled back just enough to look at me, and she nodded. “Yeah…but I lost him before that,” she said quietly. “So I know how terrible it sucks.”

I looked away, huffing out a breath, “It won’t get better, would it?”

She sighed. “It’ll take time. A lot of time, and even then…sometimes it’ll hit you out of nowhere, and it’ll feel just as bad as the first day.”

“Wow,” I deadpanned. “So uplifting. I feel healed. Thanks for the pep talk, asshole.” I shoved her shoulder lightly.

She didn’t even flinch, just smiled, enjoying being insufferable, “Look…uh, I saw Natalie earlier and was gonna drop by to see Maria, so she said we can all meet up for dinner at their place tonight. She’s been calling you, by the way, but you’re doing your usual disappearing act, so…”

“No.”

“I haven’t even finished,” she shot back. “You should come too. You’ll see everyone before you leave.”

“Do I look like I’m interested in seeing anyone?”

She raised a brow. “You should be. You’re leaving. You might not see them again—”

“I am not going to Mars, I am just going back to England for god’s sake.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Yeah, but knowing you? You’ll ghost all of us, change your number and name, probably fake your death, start a new life in some other city, and we’ll never see you again.”

“I hate how specific that was.”

“Because it’s accurate,” she shot back.

Not entirely wrong.

“You should come,” she pouted, grabbing my shirt and tugging like a kid. She shook me hard enough that Luna jumped off my lap with an offended meow, glaring at both of us.

“Please, Nathan, pretty please.”

“Stop touching me,” I grumbled, trying to peel her off. “You’re making it worse.”

She tugged harder.

“Lilly—”

“Pleeease.”

“You’re a grown-up, act like it.”

“Say yes.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Say yes.”

I exhaled sharply. “Okay, okay…fine. Jesus. Stop whining.”

She broke into an obnoxious smile, all accomplished, “Yay,” she said, way too cheerful, “Now get up and get ready, we can leave together.”

I shook my head. There was this one other thing I was planning to do today.

“I have something to do first,” I said, already pushing myself up slightly. “Then I’ll follow you there.”

She narrowed her eyes at me again. “You better not disappear.”

“No promises.”

“I will hunt you down.”

“Good luck with that,” I grumbled.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

She pointed a threatening finger at me, “You’re coming.”

I flipped her off as I walked toward the bathroom, and right on cue, she threw a pillow at me. It hit the door just as I slipped inside, shutting her out, shutting everything out…for a second.

Just long enough to pretend I was still in control of anything.

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I don’t know why I ended up here.

That’s the first honest thought I had the second I stepped out of the car. What exactly was I trying to accomplish?

Closure? That’s cute.

Maybe it was just another loose end, something I needed to tie before I left, before I disappeared properly this time.

Because Lilly was right.

I am leaving for good, and I don’t plan on ever coming back, so this might be my last time seeing the man. If not for me, I think I owed him an explanation.

My eyes flickered around the house, taking it in slowly, the house I learned they lived in once upon a time, a house I could’ve grown up in if life weren’t so twisted.

The paint was slightly worn, the porch quiet, the air still in that suffocating way. My fingers hovered over the bell, but my gaze drifted to the swing on the porch. It moved just slightly with the wind, creaking under the weight of nothing, and I don’t know why that’s what dragged the image out of me.

I imagined my mother sitting there.

Head bent, pen moving across paper, scribbling into one of her notebooks…something we had in common. Figures. That’s the part of her I got, the quiet kind of madness that turns thoughts into ink.

I imagined a much younger Ronald and Natalie coming in to annoy her. Ronald climbing onto the swing ever so recklessly, nearly toppling over with zero survival instincts. Natalie already irritated, already scolding him like the miniature adult I’m convinced she came out as, arms crossed, judging, probably exhausting even back then.

I imagined how my…our mother would sigh, close her notebook, set it aside like it didn’t matter anymore, like they mattered more. She’d pull them both in, one on each side, hug them, kiss their heads, and tell them stories, stitching something soft around them, something safe.

I stood there, watching it play out in my head like a memory I wasn’t invited to, a life that existed just fine without me in it, and for a fleeting moment, I wanted in.

Wanted to step into it, sit beside her, hear her voice, exist in something that wasn’t already fully broken. It made me wonder how different I would’ve been.

Less…this, maybe. Less sharp around the edges. Less empty in the places that matter.

Maybe at least then, I’d know how to deal with the fact that I just lost the love of my life…

But the image didn’t last anyway. I didn’t belong to it.

I blinked the haze away and reached for the bell, pressing it before I changed my mind and walked away.

A few seconds passed, then the door opened.

Michael…that’s his name. Natalie and Ronald’s father. My mother’s husband. My biological father, someone I felt no connection toward whatsoever. So, I wasn’t going to stand here and pretend this is some poetic reunion, some long-lost father-son moment where everything magically fixes itself, and we live happily ever after. I don’t do that.

Maybe if I had time with him, I’d grow into it. Maybe I’d learn him, connect to him, maybe I’d even…like him, but time wasn’t something he had much of. He is old. He’d die one day soon, and I’d end up mourning yet another father. Yeah, no, not signing up for that.

He blinked in shock, his eyes widening, like he was expecting literally anyone else to be standing on his doorstep, anyone but me.

Remember, you’re doing this for him, not for you.

I forced something that could pass as a smile. “Hey,” I said lightly. “Uh—sorry for dropping by unannounced. I don’t actually have your number, so calling ahead wasn’t really an option. Are you busy or something?”

Why am I talking so much?

“But then again, you’re…you know—” I gestured vaguely. “—old. So I didn’t expect a packed schedule. You’re probably available.”

Fantastic. Insult him immediately. Great strategy, Nathan.

See, if I had a normal family, I probably wouldn’t have been like this.

He just blinked at me, his brain apparently buffering, like I’d shown up speaking a different language and he was trying to download subtitles.

“I’m Nathan, by the way,” I added, because clearly this was going incredibly well. I pushed my hand forward. “You don’t know me very much.”

He looked down at my hand, then slowly reached out and took it, “I…I know,” he muttered, still catching up to the fact that I was here.

When I pulled my hand back, I glanced past him into the house, then scratched the back of my neck. “So…are you going to let me in or what?”

He cleared his throat, like he was pulling himself together piece by piece, then stepped aside. “Yeah, yeah, sure, sorry. Come in,” he said, his voice steadier now.

I walked inside, shoving my hands into my pockets, my eyes drifting around on instinct, wondering how much of this place had changed since she existed in it, if there was ever a space here that was supposed to be mine.

He led me to the living room, and I dropped onto the couch, leaning back like I wasn’t hyper-aware of everything. My gaze found him again, drifting from his hair, silver-grey, down to his eyes, hazel, the green from his sweatshirt catching in them, shifting the color just enough.

That’s it, the only feature we have in common, and that…that made me relax for some reason, like the DNA he contributed to me wasn’t that obvious.

“You’re probably wondering why I showed up like this,” I started, ready to get this over with fast. “It’s just I’m leaving tomorrow, so chances are, I’m never going to see you again, and you know how, since I came back, I’ve been avoiding you, refusing to see you or talk to you. So, I needed you to know that none of that had anything to do with you, it’s all on me and my messed-up head.”

His brows pulled together, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, bracing himself.

“I don’t blame you for anything, I mean, you weren’t even conscious to begin with,” I elaborated, “Also, I really don’t want us to do the whole getting to know each other and reconnecting and all that, and I’d like it if you would accept that too, and believe me, I am not doing any of this to hurt you…I really don’t want to hurt you.”

He nodded his head, almost like he really understood where I was coming from, “Yeah, I get it, really, I do.”

That caught me slightly off guard.

“I mean,” he went on, a small, almost sad smile pulling at his lips, “would I like the chance to know you? Of course I would.” He shrugged lightly. “But I’m not going to force something you don’t want, or something that would make you uncomfortable. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“It’s enough for me to know you’re okay, Nathan,” he said. “That’s all I need.”

Okay…this went better than I expected. I shifted slightly in my seat, my fingers tapping once against my knee before stilling.

So what now? Do I just…leave?

“Just…can you answer this?” he added, breaking the silence.

I nodded once.

“Did he at least treat you well?”

I nodded my head, “Yeah, he didn’t let me need anything, as long as he was alive,” I said. It was only after his death that hell broke loose.

His jaw moved, clenching, and he nodded his head, like he both hated that fact, but it relieved him all the same. His gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders tightening like the reality of it alone weighed something down inside him.

“He was a good father,” I resumed, and the words slipped out of me before I could stop them, “But I believe you would’ve been a better father to me if given the chance.”

His head shot up, slightly taken aback by my words.

I shrugged, “He was messed up, in every possible definition of the word.” My lips twitched as I pointed lazily at myself. “I mean, look at the result, kinda speaks for itself.”

His lips twitched at my playful tone, his face relaxing, and he shook his head.

“Bet you are so proud of me, huh?” I added sarcastically.

He didn’t take the bait, didn’t even deflect.

“Nathan, whether you want to acknowledge it or not, you are my son, and I’ve loved you long before you were even born, and I’m going to love you no matter what you do, or who you turn out to be…call it an unspoken contract, if you will,” he added, a faint smile touching his lips. “But that’s what being a parent is, you love with no conditions.”

I looked away because looking at him suddenly felt like too much.

“I hope one day you’ll have that yourself, and that’s when you’ll understand what I mean.”

Okay, existential damage unlocked…this is getting way too real, I need to leave.

“Your mother loved you so much, too,” He added, forcing me to lift my head and look back at him. “She was so excited to meet you. Ronald and Natalie were about to start college, and she kept saying the house was going to feel empty…too quiet.”

His gaze drifted somewhere past me. “She used to say you came at the right time…that you’d fill the silence.”

Something tightened in my throat as my eyes drifted around, “It does feel silent.”

He nodded slowly. His eyes moved around the room too, like he was seeing something that wasn’t there anymore.

“You have no idea,” he said.

“Do you…do you have a picture of her?” I asked, “That I could have? I used to…I had one when I was young, but I lost it.”

He nodded immediately and pushed himself to his feet. He took a step, then paused, turning back to me. “Come with me,” he said.

I got up without hesitation and followed him up the stairs. He stopped at the far room at the end of the hallway, opened the door, and flicked the light on. It looked like a storage room of sorts. He crouched in front of one of the boxes, pulled it out, and opened it, rummaging through it with careful hands.

I moved closer as he searched until he finally pulled out a photo album. He straightened and handed it to me. “You can have it, if you want,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the box. “There’s a lot.”

I took it from him and leaned back against the desk behind me before flipping it open.

Page after page, it was filled with pictures of her, young and alive, smiling, her hair falling loosely around her shoulders, eyes so blue and impossibly bright, they instantly tugged at my already broken heart.

I caught myself smiling without meaning to. There were family pictures too, her with him, her pregnant, her with a much younger Natalie and Ronald, who looked disturbingly alike as kids.

I was too deep in it, too lost in my head, that I didn’t even hear the door swing open.

“Dad, where are you—I brought you the—” Ronald’s voice cut off mid-sentence when his eyes fell on me.

His eyebrow raised, utterly taken aback by my presence. I ignored him and kept looking through the pictures.

His gaze flickered to his father. They exchanged a few quiet words, and the old man stepped out, leaving us alone, which allowed Ronald to walk closer to me, ever so casually leaning to glimpse at the pictures too.

“I was the cutest kid ever, look at me,” He said, awing at himself.

I rolled my eyes and flipped the pages. He laughed at the next one, it was him and Natalie mid-wrestle, her clinging to his back like a koala, arms wrapped around his neck, nearly choking him alive. I smiled. Yeah, she’s my sister, alright.

Ronald wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer, “So, what are you doing here?”

I tried to shove him away, hating the giddiness in his voice. I was way too miserable for everyone’s sunshine energy, “None of your business.”

I tried to elbow him away, but he didn’t let me go, bringing his hand closer and flipping through the pages himself, telling me the story behind every picture. For some reason, I stayed still and listened, refraining from pushing him away.

When he was done, I slammed the album shut and tried to shove him, this time succeeding in harshly elbowing his stomach, “Can you not touch me every five seconds?”

He groaned lowly and headbutted me playfully, “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you,” I said flatly.

“You don’t?”

I turned to him. “No. You’re just…very annoying.”

He smiled, as if I complimented him, and he threw his arm around my shoulders again, pulling me into him and ruffling the back of my head like I was five. “I love you too, baby bro.”

“I take it back,” I groaned, shoving him off again. “I hate you.”

He chuckled, incapable of taking a hint, “No, you don’t, and we both know I am your favorite sibling, but let’s just keep that between us, yeah? Natalie’s got a fragile ego. We can’t destroy her like that.”

I looked at him, to which he smiled so idiotically, and gave me a wink. My lips twitched involuntarily because the truth was, I really didn’t hate him, never did, actually. I held a grudge against Natalie for years, but never against him for some reason.

He pulled me closer, always way too touchy, and led me outside the room. “Okay, so I heard about what happened,” he mumbled with a sigh.

I stiffened, not ready for yet another person to spew me more nonsense.

“Relax,” he added quickly, squeezing my shoulder. “I’m not gonna do the whole pity speech thing. I’m not Natalie.”

“Thank god,” I muttered.

He snorted. “Right? We’d be here for hours.”

We stepped into the hallway. “So, how about I teach you about heartbreak before you go running to Nikolas for advice?”

I rolled my eyes. “Who has a fragile ego, you said?”

He shot me a glare. “Hey, I’ll never be okay with your father-son relationship with him. He already stole my sister from me. I’m not letting him steal you, too.”

I wanted to shove him off, say something sharp, but I didn’t have it in me anymore. Everything felt…dull around the edges. Heavy.

“Do you want me to let you in on a little secret?” He muttered.

I looked at him, waiting. He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “It all works out in the end.”

“Not the way you expect, not the exact way you want, but…it does.”

Works out?

Huh, right.

Maybe for normal people.

But me?

I think I’m the part of the story where things go wrong, the kind you don’t fix, the kind you survive…if you’re lucky enough.

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One day later…

The ink hit the page before I could think too much about it.

I wasn’t supposed to open another notebook. That was the deal I made with myself.

Finish one. Burn it. Move on.

The new one sat open in my hands anyway, untouched, pages white and too quiet. Oh, they didn’t know what they were about to hold.

At least, I’d make sure they wouldn’t hold her. I can’t write her anymore. I can’t escape her if she lingers here, if she turns into another confession bleeding between my ink and the page.

She was supposed to end with the last one. Close the cover, leave it behind…leave her behind.

That was the point of it, wasn’t it? Finish the goddamn poem, then walk away from it.

But the truth is, I didn’t leave her on those pages. I left the pages with her, and somehow…she still made it here with me.

I stopped, my eyes dragging over every line again, and my jaw clenched.

“Yeah,” I muttered, dragging my hand over my face. “That lasted long.“

Too much for not writing about her…

I exhaled slowly, leaning back in my seat, the airport noise swelling and fading around me. People moved, laughed, left, stayed, but none of it mattered.

“Nathan?”

I blinked, my head lifting slowly as Christian nodded toward the gate, “You coming?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, shutting the notebook, pushing it into my bag, pushing myself up to my feet.

We started walking, step after step, but there was this itch, this pull, something sharp curling under my ribs, whispering.

Turn around. It was stupid, pointless, even.

She wasn’t here. There was no way she’d be here. I checked with Adam a couple of minutes ago. She was at the hospital.

Still, I slowed, just for a second, and I almost looked back.

I don’t know why that night came rushing into me then, her arms wrapped around me on the bike, her voice soft against my back, her promise settling somewhere too deep to touch.

I told her about Orpheus, how he looked back…and lost everything. I recalled how she promised she’d be there, right behind me, so I wouldn’t have to look back and lose her too.

My lips twitched into something softer, something that didn’t hurt as much anymore, and I kept walking.

I didn’t look back.

Because for the first time, I chose to believe.

Something quiet, something stubborn and a little bit broken, whispered to me that when we reach the surface…no matter how long it takes, she’ll be there.

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Aylin’s POV

If he had just turned around, he would’ve seen me.

I was so close, I could see him as he paused, as he contemplated it for a long minute, as he refused to look back and kept on walking.

A smile broke across my lips as I watched him walk away…as I watched him disappear past the gate.

Adam stared at me like I was crazy…I was, but that’s a topic for another time, “Did you make me lie to him and bring you here just so you’d watch him walk away?”

I turned to him, barely registering his words as I said, “He didn’t look back.”

Adam’s brows pulled together, ever confused.

My smile softened, something warmer, something steadier replacing the ache.

“He believes in me.”

“I don’t understand a damn thing,” he muttered with a sigh, eyeing me like I might collapse any second. “What happens now?”

I inhaled slowly, grounding myself in something that didn’t feel like breaking anymore.

“Now, I get better. Now, I find a way around this disease…” I fix what’s broken in me.

My gaze lingered on the place where he disappeared, hopeful for once.

“And then, I go find him.”

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The next chapter is the last chapter, let’s cry together…

See you soon 🖋️