Chapter 53

“You were no miracle.
No angel sent above.
You were the only proof I needed…
that even death
can lose
to love.“

Six months later…

Nathan’s POV

I don’t think I’ve ever been this mentally stable before.

Which is concerning, deeply concerning.

I get up at the same time every day now. I eat actual healthy meals. I go to work and pretend I give a shit about it. I go out on daily jogs, voluntarily, which should qualify as a cry for help if we’re being honest.

I don’t spiral anymore. I don’t punch people. I don’t write about her.

Every single one of those above is a lie, but we’re easing into honesty…

Anyways, I’m doing everything right.

Which is exactly how I know something is very, very wrong.

Because here’s the thing no one puts in those cute little recovery quotes…when something is actually fixed, it doesn’t feel like this.

It doesn’t feel like holding your breath all day long. It doesn’t feel like carefully stepping around your own head like it’s a crime scene you’re not allowed to contaminate. It definitely doesn’t feel like lying awake every night while your brain quietly eats itself alive, just more subtle about it now.

But sure.

Stable.

If you repeat something long enough, it starts sounding real, right?

I pushed myself up, stretching slightly, my body moving through the motions before my brain caught up. Routine was a funny thing. You repeated something long enough, and it started to look like control.

The house was eerily quiet when I headed to the kitchen, too quiet for a place that was technically lived in. There was a cup in the sink from last night, my jacket thrown over the chair, a life that looked almost…normal.

That word again.

I hated that word.

Normal people didn’t have rules like me. Rule number one: don’t think about her when you wake up. Rule number two: don’t open that drawer, the one with the notebook and the hair tie she left behind that I, like a complete idiot, packed with my things when I left. Rule number three: don’t reread anything written after midnight. Rule number four: don’t say her name out loud.

Especially that last one; that one’s important.

I started to prepare my drink, and don’t you dare judge me; it’s green, awful, and tastes like grass that gave up on life. I whisked it nearly every morning, watching the foam settle before I drank it…Yeah, you guessed it, it’s matcha, and no, I didn’t change personality overnight and started liking it, still fucking hate that shit but…

She loved it.

It still tastes like regret, but I drink it anyway, every single morning.

Because for about three seconds—just three, I timed it—it almost feels like she’s here.

I closed my eyes, and for those three seconds, my brain shut the fuck up. Hmm, yeah, those three seconds were the closest thing to peace I’d had in six months.

Which was pathetic, really.

But then again, my entire existence lately had become a long list of pathetic little rituals designed to trick my brain into believing I hadn’t left her.

I finished my godawful drink, grabbed my keys from the counter, spinning them once around my finger before catching them again. I exhaled slowly, unlocked the door, and stepped out into the morning air.

You see, six months ago, I thought distance would fix it.

That if I just left…left the country, left the hospital, left her…I’d reset or something as if I were a glitchy system that just needed to be powered off and back on again.

Yeah, guess what, didn’t fucking work. Turns out, I’m not a system. I’m the goddamn virus.

Viruses don’t magically disappear when you switch locations. They mutate. Adapt. Crawl deeper into the bloodstream until suddenly they’re part of the body now.

I huffed out a breath because my brain was talking too much again—useless fucking organ, really. I tried to ignore it, crouched down, and tied my shoe. Straightening up, I shoved my earphones in, turned the music up to a high level, and started running.

The louder the music got, the darker my thoughts became, or maybe I just kept turning it up every time her voice started getting too clear in my head.

Cold air lashed against my face as I picked up speed, my lungs burning, my heartbeat punching violently against my ribs. My shoes hit the pavement over and over and over again, fast enough that eventually my thoughts blurred together into one long, ugly scream.

That was the goal, anyway…outrun the noise, but every time I ran, I thought only about her.

Was she jogging too? Did she still tuck her hair up the same way before running? Did she still wear those goddamn provocative sports sets? Did she think about me while she ran, too?

Or worse, did she stop? Did she…move on?

The thought hit me so hard my chest physically tightened around it.

Had she met someone? Was some guy making her laugh right now? Was she smiling at someone else the way she smiled at me?

Okay, no, absolutely the fuck not.

We’re not doing this today. Help me, brain, I am trying to keep you sane, fucking help me…

I ran faster, because the messy fucked up part of me wanted this distance to hurt her, wanted her to miss me so violently it ruined her mornings the same way she ruined mine. I wanted her to be angry that I broke all of my promises and left her, because if she hated me that much, at least she’d still be thinking about me.

I finally came to a sharp stop near the empty sidewalk, my chest heaving as I tried to gather myself back together.

My lungs were functioning pretty well lately, but the doctor warned me not to push myself too hard, to avoid excessive strain, and guess what I’d been doing lately? Pushing myself hard indeed.

My old race against death has been renewed for another season. Motherfucker still didn’t want me. Honestly? Starting to take it personally at this point.

A raindrop landed against my cheek, then another, and another, starting slow before picking up speed. I tilted my head back and stared up at the grey clouds as the rain started pouring properly, cold drops striking my skin one after another.

Around me, people sped up immediately, jogging toward shelter, ducking into cafés, hiding beneath awnings or inside their cars.

Meanwhile, I just stood there, the music screaming through my headphones, blending with the rain.

My eyelids slid shut, and I welcomed every drop, felt the rain soak through my hair, trail down my throat, sink into the fabric of my shirt until it clung cold and heavy against my skin.

I wanted it colder, enough to scrape her off me somehow.

Maybe if the rain hit hard enough, it’d wash away the scent of jasmine that still haunted me like a curse. Maybe it’d numb me enough that I’d stop remembering what she felt like beneath my hands.

Her pulse fluttering against my fingertips. Her hair threading between them. Her breath catching every time I got too close.

God, even six months later, my body remembered her better than it remembered how to function properly. That hardly seemed fair…

I opened my eyes slowly, dragged a hand down my wet face and back through my soaked hair before finally turning around and jogging back home. By the time I got there, my lungs were burning, my head louder than it was when I started, which felt like a scam, honestly.

Exercise was supposed to help.

That’s what they say.

“They” also say closure is real, so forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical.

I stepped inside, kicking my shoes off near the door, and Luna was already there waiting for me.

She did that a lot. Sat by the door every morning around the time I usually came back, staring at it like she expected someone else to walk through too. See, even the cat had abandonment issues now.

I crouched down, scratching behind her ear, and she leaned into my hand, purring softly, her way of trying to glue me back together.

I smiled despite myself, running my hand slowly over her soft grey fur. Honestly, she was the closest thing I had to a functioning relationship lately.

She slept beside me every night now, usually curled near my ribs like she was trying to keep a certain organ from falling apart. Sometimes she’d stare at the door for long periods of time, and because my brain enjoyed psychological warfare, I’d catch myself thinking—

She probably misses her, too.

So, yeah, that’s what I mean. My mind didn’t just spiral anymore. It adapted, which was so much worse.

At least before, the insanity had the decency to be loud about itself. Violent. Obvious. Now it was quieter. Smarter. It slipped itself into routines and habits and tiny moments until I genuinely couldn’t tell where she ended and I began.

I drank what she drank now, ran where she would’ve run, and slept beside the cat she gifted me, believing if I collected enough little fragments of her, my brain would finally calm the fuck down and stop clawing at the walls of my skull every second of every day.

It didn’t stop, though. It just got greedier every day.

Because once you start surviving on crumbs, your mind starts mistaking starvation for devotion. Hallucination for hope. Self-destruction for love.

And me? I was apparently building a whole religion out of her leftovers.

Healthy. So very healthy and stable. Good job, me.

I moved further inside, Luna immediately falling into step behind me, brushing herself against my legs. My eyes flickered down toward her before slowing when I felt the subtle shift in the air that meant I wasn’t alone.

My gaze lifted and landed on Christian leaning casually against the kitchen counter, scrolling through his phone.

A long, deeply annoyed exhale left my chest as I stopped near the entrance, glaring at him hard enough that he finally looked up, locked his phone, and slipped it into his pocket.

“There you are,” he muttered with a bored sigh, like he was the victim here.

His eyes dragged slowly over me, from my face to the wet strands hanging over my forehead, down to my soaked clothes practically dripping onto the floor.

His forehead creased. “Were you running in the rain?” He blinked once. “Who the fuck does that?”

I moved past him without answering, grabbed a glass, and poured myself some water.

“It’s Sunday,” I muttered before taking a long drink. “Isn’t today supposed to be for God or whatever?” I lowered the glass slowly, shooting him another irritated look. “So why are you here?”

At this point, Christian was so used to my charming personality lately that he didn’t even react. He shrugged it off, picked up a takeaway coffee cup from the counter, and moved toward me, holding it out.

“Here, take your caffeine first.”

I pushed his hand away and walked past him, out of the kitchen and into the living room. I dropped onto the couch heavily, and Luna immediately jumped beside me, curling into my side.

Christian followed after me because, apparently, the restraining order I kept threatening him with still wasn’t being taken seriously. He sat down beside me, entirely too comfortable in my space.

“You’re free tonight?” He asked.

“No.”

“Oh, really?” he asked mockingly. “What do you have planned?”

I unlocked my phone. “Several things.”

“Such as?”

I didn’t answer, focusing on the screen, scrolling through my notifications, half-reading emails, half-dissociating.

“Nathan, seriously now,” he sighed. “The guys want to throw Tobey a bachelor party before the wedding. You should come. We’ll go out, get a drink, have some fun,” He went on and on, always forcing me to socialize with his group of friends.

I barely tolerated Christian on a good day. Throwing more people into the equation felt like absolute torture.

“Can’t do,” I muttered absentmindedly, my thumb slowing the second it hovered over the Instagram icon. There was always this tiny pause beforehand these days, like my body already knew this was self-harm.

I pressed it anyway, and the first post that appeared was hers.

Immediately, my entire body went still, and my throat went dry as her picture filled my screen.

She’d been doing that lately, sharing a post every day. She was fully offline for the first five months, but after she got out of the institution a month ago, she made it her mission to share one post per day, like breadcrumbs, slowly leaking herself back into the world after disappearing for a long while.

Sometimes it was just random things—coffee shops, flowers, sunsets, books, the sea.

This picture, though, showed her standing near the harbor…our place. The place we used to walk together almost every day. She was turned sideways, the sunset spilling orange light over her face while the wind pushed strands of blonde hair across her cheek.

God. She looked unreal.

Beautiful was too human a word for her. She was ethereal in every sense.

My thumb brushed unconsciously over her face on the screen, and there it was again, that sharp, violent ache in my chest. Impressive that my heart hadn’t disintegrated yet. Thing had been getting psychologically curb-stomped for half a year and still kept clocking in for work every morning.

Christian was still talking beside me, but his voice blurred into background noise as I stared at the picture for too long, way too fucking long.

I could practically feel it, what it’d be like to stand beside her again. Touch her. Pull her into me. Breathe her in until my lungs forgot oxygen existed.

Then my brain ruined everything.

Wait.

Someone took this picture of her.

My jaw tightened slowly, my fingers clamping harder around the phone as the realization settled in like poison. Someone was there with her. In our place.

Immediately, my brain transformed into a crime scene, picking the option most likely to trigger the homicidal addict in me.

I forced myself to breathe slowly through my nose before I actually shattered the phone in my hand.

I’d kept Adam there for one reason. To keep an eye on her. Make sure she was safe. Make sure Riley stayed the fuck away from her. Make sure she was eating, sleeping, breathing, living.

But I’d made one thing painfully clear to him…to never report anything back to me.

Because if he did, I’d go back. Immediately. No hesitation.

That was the problem with me. Distance only worked as long as she remained slightly unreal to me, a ghost, untouchable…

The second she became tangible again, the second I knew too much, I’d lose. And deep down, I think some sick part of me was just waiting for an excuse to.

Anyway, if anything serious ever happened, Adam was supposed to inform her grandfather first. The old man and I had developed this weird little alliance lately. We kept in touch, communicating every now and then.

Good old Charles loves me now…well, not love, let’s not get carried away, but he doesn’t hate me anymore, tolerates me even.

That was due to the fact that, while Aylin thought I had disappeared to dramatically self-destruct in peace, I’d actually spent the past six months researching her condition so intensely I was one journal away from earning an honorary degree in neurosurgery.

I contacted specialists from all over the world. Eventually, after months of research, I found a surgeon, one who had treated patients with conditions disturbingly similar to Aylin’s. Most doctors considered the lesion too risky to touch because of where it was located, but this one had pioneered a newer surgical approach to remove it with a surprisingly high success rate.

After reviewing all her scans, tests, and medical records, he was willing to operate on her.

I had hope, for a very short while. Tiny little thing. Fragile enough to crush between my fingers.

I sent everything to Charles. All the reports, scans, evaluations, and contacts. He arranged meetings and got her to see the surgeon.

And then…she refused. Just flat-out refused the surgery.

Charles didn’t even know why. He was as shocked as I was. She really looked at the only fucking chance we had at a future that wouldn’t slowly kill her and went, “No, thanks.”

That nearly finished me off more effectively than the lung failure ever did, because I couldn’t understand it.

Did she not want the surgery? Or did she not want me enough to risk it?

After that, everything spiraled all over again. It took every microscopic ounce of self-control I possessed not to get on a plane immediately and demand answers from her myself. It would’ve ruined every bit of progress I’d been forcing into myself for over six months…

I was still staring at the picture when my phone was suddenly ripped out of my hand.

I physically jolted, my head snapping toward Christian with a glare sharp enough to kill. He discarded the phone onto the couch cushion beside him before looking at me flatly.

“Do you plan on staying like this forever?”

My jaw ticked instantly, and I leaned in, punched his arm hard enough to make him grunt.

Then I grabbed my phone back. Then punched his shoulder too, for good measure, because the first one hadn’t fully captured my emotions.

“You violent prick,” he groaned, rubbing at his shoulder.

“Don’t touch my things,” I snapped.

Christian stared at me for a long second before exhaling heavily. “You know that I am right, you should go out, meet up with people, have some fun. You can’t just bury yourself in work and…” He gestured vaguely at my entire existence, “…whatever the fuck this self-destruction phase is.”

Phase? Huh, that’s cute, like this implied an ending.

“I’m fine like this,” I muttered, shoving the phone into my pocket before I reopened her picture and got lost in it again.

“Yeah, very,” Christian scoffed, “You’re going out with me tonight.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a question.”

“It wasn’t an answer.”

“We’re going out.”

“No.”

“We’re going.”

“No.”

“Nathan.”

“Christian.”

“Nathan.”

“Christian.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

Poor bastard. I was exhausting to him.

Personally, I thought I was delightful.

“You can’t lock yourself away from civilization forever,” He said ever so mockingly, “We’ll have fun, promise,” He added, “You look pretty much miserable, you need to get laid or something, I’ll even take the liberty to set you up with someone.”

His words had me turn, shooting him the most lethal look.

Christian raised an eyebrow. “What? That’s literally what you used to tell me after Lilly and I broke up.”

“It’s different.”

“How?”

“Because Lilly was never yours to begin with.”

His eyebrow lifted slightly higher. “And Aylin is?”

My jaw ticked, “Didn’t I tell you never to say her name out loud?” I grumbled, and before he could answer, I moved forward and punched his other shoulder too. At this point, I wanted to cave his skull in.

Six months, and her name still felt like someone driving a knife between my ribs.

Christian huffed out an annoyed breath, rubbing his shoulder. “Nathan, I’m being serious, you’re slipping back into your old destructive habits, and I’m worried.”

His tone changed, less annoyed, more concerned. I hated it immediately.

“I know that you went back to the fight club in the beginning,” he continued. “Beating the shit out of strangers for fun, but that didn’t work, did it?”

Why was everyone so obsessed with my life lately? Couldn’t people just leave me the fuck alone to dwell in self-pity and sorrow in peace?

I kept glaring at him, but Christian had spent years dealing with me. His survival instincts had apparently died somewhere along the way.

“So, after that, you buried yourself in work,” he continued, eyebrow raising, “and whatever insane research project you’ve been obsessing over for months, but till when?”

He was being the old man, mature man Christian that I loathed, I had to roll my eyes and grumble a few curses under my breath for good measure.

“You almost died, Nathan, but you survived, you lived, you got a second chance, but look at you wasting it ever so spectacularly.”

You almost died. Everyone loved that damned sentence, like it was some magical spell that would suddenly make me appreciate being alive.

I shot him a bored look, “Are you done with your weekly TED Talk?”

He inhaled deeply, his jaw ticking, and looked away from me for a second, rubbing a hand over his face, trying very hard not to strangle me, which felt unfair. I was the one being attacked here.

He turned back to me, “What exactly are you waiting for?”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep acting like your life is paused, so what exactly are you waiting for?”

Her.

I was waiting for her.

Since the day I left, I’d been waiting for her…but to do what, exactly?

I mean, there was no scenario where I went back if my presence still did her more harm than good. No scenario where I got to be with her if her condition stayed the same.

Not after watching her nearly die in front of me…

Dear god, look at me, all selfless and mature and emotionally fucking responsible. So very disgusting. I miss the old me. The one who would’ve dragged her into my arms and figured out the consequences later.

That version of me would’ve been happier.

Granted, everyone around him would’ve suffered immensely, but still.

Happier.

The problem was that none of that changed the reality. If she refused the surgery, if there really wasn’t a way…then, what the fuck was I supposed to do with all these extra years of life I got?

Everyone’s always so focused on surviving.

Fight for your future, Nathan.

Keep living, Nathan.

Life is a gift, Nathan.

Right.

Cool.

Wonderful.

Now what?

I huffed out a breath and met Christian’s scrutinizing gaze, “Okay, I’ll go out with you tonight, just stop giving me lectures, professor,” I grumbled, ever so mockingly, so very fed up with him, with this topic, with everything and everyone.

His lips twitched slightly, and the bastard brought his hand to the back of my head, ruffling my hair like I was some dog. I jerked forward, away from his touch, but he rested his arm across my shoulders and pulled me closer to him, apparently giving no crap or whatsoever about his well-being.

I elbowed him in the stomach, to which he groaned but didn’t let me go. I stopped fighting him after a short while and tried to slowly allow myself to relax or whatever. The side of my head rested against his arm, and my eyelids involuntarily dropped down, so very drained all of a sudden.

“Do you ever notice,” Christian said with a low chuckle, though it sounded more like a scoff aimed at the universe itself, “that in the end it’s always just you and me?”

My lips twitched slightly, “Unfortunately,” I mumbled.

“If only you were a girl, though,” I muttered lazily with a sigh, my eyes still closed, “I would’ve just married you and saved myself all the trouble.”

He chuckled and playfully bumped his head with mine, “Nah, I have better taste. Besides, I would’ve been way out of your league.”

I elbowed him once more, this wanker, “Shut up.”

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

By the time night rolled around and Christian dragged me out of the house against my will to socialize with humans I’d rather stab than make small talk with, I was already exhausted. The place was packed with too many unnecessary people. Music played too loudly. Everyone was laughing. Drinking. Existing.

I grabbed a drink and escaped to the balcony, trying to establish a safe social distance between myself and the rest of humanity.

Christian’s annoying friend, who was getting married, had an even more annoying sister, who I suppose is the one Christian has been trying to set me up with, considering she hijacked her brother’s night and tried to talk to me on several occasions during the night, which only earned her a glare or a grumble from my side.

I guess I was no longer attracted to the female population. I nearly flinched when she touched my arm earlier. Which was deeply concerning because there was a time when I would’ve welcomed attractive women touching me. Maybe Aylin had permanently broken whatever part of my brain processed opposite-sex interest.

She was a virus, that woman. An incurable, blonde-shaped disease.

Honestly, somebody should study her.

I just hoped she’d been infected with the same disease and wasn’t looking at any other species from the male population. I know for a fact that I won’t move on, so she better not, either.

If I had to spend the rest of my life haunted by her, then the least she could do was haunt herself with me.

Fair is fair.

I was nothing if not petty.

I paused next to the railing, my eyes flickering up toward the sky. The darkness stretched endlessly overhead, surrounding a single full moon hanging between the clouds, so bright and beautiful, just completely indifferent.

For a moment, I felt transfixed.

My thumb traced the edge of my glass absentmindedly as I soaked it in. It made me wonder whether, somewhere on the other side of the world, she was standing beneath the very same moon, looking up at the exact same light and sky…

Since I’d finally lost whatever remained of my sanity months ago, I found myself silently speaking to the moon, asking it to deliver her a message.

My lips twitched slightly.

Tell her I miss her.

No, that wasn’t enough.

Tell her not a single day has passed that she wasn’t the first thing I thought about when I woke up and the last thing I carried to sleep.

Tell her I still look for her in crowds.

In sunsets and sunrises.

In every stupid little thing that used to belong only to itself before she touched it.

Tell her I’m still waiting for a miracle…still waiting for a future that lets me have her back. Still waiting for a version of the story where I get to hold her again without it ending in blood and tragedy.

The shrill ringing of my phone tore straight through the silence, ripping me out of my spiraling thoughts.

I blinked as reality seeped back in. The moon blurred, then sharpened again as my eyes struggled to focus.

My hand slipped into my pocket and pulled out my phone.

Adam’s name flashed across the screen, and my stomach dropped instantly. Adam never called me, not once in the last six months. I made sure of it.

My pulse kicked up immediately. The worst-case scenarios flooded my head so fast they nearly tripped over each other.

I answered before the second ring finished, “What happened?”

“Nathan, hey,” His voice sounded calm, way too calm for my liking.

“Adam, what’s wrong? Is Aylin okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, don’t worry, she’s fine.”

My frown deepened, “Then why the fuck are you calling me?”

“Well…” he hesitated. “I haven’t talked to you in a while. Just wanted to check up on you.”

What the—

“Adam, what’s wrong?” I asked, not buying a single word of it. “If something happened and you’re not telling me, I’ll fly back there and personally bash your head against a wall.”

A low breath came from his side, and his voice came out lower, “…See, that’s why I didn’t want to call.”

“What happened?” I pressed again.

“Well…there is this one thing that you might want to know.”

Immediately, every muscle in my body tensed. My grip tightened over the phone, “What?”

“Uh, the other day, I…” He cleared his throat. “I saw…”

“Saw what, for fuck’s sake?”

“I mean, I think…” He tried to speak, then paused again,  making me seriously consider launching the glass in my hand off the balcony.

“Adam, my patience is nearly nonexistent. Spit it out.”

A moment of silence. Then—

“I think Aylin is seeing someone,” he blurted out quickly before immediately adding, “A guy, I mean. In case that wasn’t clear.”

I saw black for a long second, the edges blurring as my grip nearly broke the glass in my hand.

My brain simply refused the information. It hit a wall and bounced off. The glass cracked in my hand, a tiny sound in the grand scheme of everything.

I stared at the city lights.

At the moon.

At nothing.

Because surely, I heard him wrong.

Surely.

“Nathan, are you coming back inside?”

This voice came from behind me.

I turned slowly. My eyes landed on the girl who’d been hitting on me all night long. She smiled, pointed toward the house, “The guys are waiting for you to…”

My brain silenced the rest of her words as the crack in the glass deepened, a shard biting into my palm.

My jaw locked as something ugly shifted inside my chest.

“Don’t call me again, Adam.” My voice sounded strangely calm. “I mean it.”

Before he could answer, I hung up.

The shard dug deeper into my palm.

I welcomed the pain…at least it made sense, unlike the sudden feeling that something inside me had just cracked right alongside the glass.

⊹˚₊‧──────────────‧₊˚⊹

Aylin’s POV

The music was loud in my ears…no, not nearly loud enough.

I turned it up, higher, louder.

The harbor blurred beside me as my trainers struck the pavement in a steady rhythm. Left. Right. Left. Right.

Run.

Just keep on running.

The wind tangled itself through my hair, cool fingers brushing against flushed skin as though trying to slow me down.

I ignored it and ran faster.

My lungs burned. My legs begged me to stop. I welcomed both feelings.

After spending five months inside walls that never moved, there was something comforting about pain that reminded me I still could.

The marina blurred into streaks of blue and grey. The music swallowed the gulls, the waves, and the city around me.

It couldn’t swallow my thoughts, though. Nothing ever could.

Because no matter how fast I ran, how loudly the music screamed, how desperately I tried to outrun myself…my thoughts always found him.

No matter where I was.

No matter what I was doing.

My cruel, traitorous mind circled him the way the sea returned to the shore…again, and again. And again.

I carried him the way people carried old scars. Quietly. So quietly that most days I forgot they were there…until something brushed against them, and suddenly the wound was fresh again, as though it had never healed at all.

True, this one never did.

Every night before I slept, I opened the notebook he’d left behind. The pages had begun to soften beneath my fingertips. The corners curled inward. The spine no longer creaked when I opened it.

I knew every poem by heart now.

Every sentence.

Every comma and exclamation mark.

Sometimes I’d reach the end of a page before realizing I hadn’t been reading it at all.

I’d simply memorized the shape of his thoughts. His handwriting had become another language, one my heart spoke more fluently than my mind ever could.

I know I should’ve stopped reading it months ago, but I just…couldn’t. Some nights, it stitched me back together. Other nights, it quietly pulled every stitch apart.

You see, he left. That was the unbearable part. He left me…yet somehow it feels like he never did.

He lingered between those pages. In places we’d promised to visit together. In songs, in the smell of rain, in sunsets, even in the cup of tea I drink nearly every day, in this place…our place.

There wasn’t a single corner of my life that he hadn’t somehow managed to haunt.

I hated him for that.

I missed him for that.

I loved him for that.

The combination felt terminal. Sometimes I couldn’t tell which feeling was winning.

Maybe neither.

Maybe grief was simply love after it lost its home.

My chest tightened, but I kept on running, faster, faster…just faster.

Don’t think.

Don’t remember.

Don’t—

A sharp ache spread through my chest. I inhaled too fast, but the air lodged somewhere between my lungs and my throat.

The music continued screaming inside my ears, but I couldn’t hear a single note. My vision blurred. I blinked hard, once, twice, but the tears came anyway.

Oh, god…

My pace faltered.

The pavement suddenly seemed uneven beneath my feet, so I slowed to a stop, bending forward slightly as I struggled to pull air into my lungs.

My palms landed on my thighs. I stared down at the ground and breathed in. Out. In. Out.

But my heart wouldn’t listen. It kept racing, kept hurting, kept remembering…

A tear slipped free before I could stop it, then another. I squeezed my eyes shut. Not now, please, not now.

Get a grip.

Get a fucking grip.

My fingers curled tighter against my thighs. For several long seconds, I simply stood there fighting for control, for a breath, for silence…

When neither came, I straightened slowly and moved toward the railing overlooking the water.

I wrapped both hands around it, lowered my head, and held on until the world stopped tilting beneath my feet, until my heart stopped screaming beneath my ribs.

It took a while.

Eventually, my breathing steadied, the tears stopped, and my shoulders relaxed.

I loosened my grip on the railing and brushed the dampness from beneath my eyes before smoothing a few loose strands of hair behind my ears.

Months ago, I would’ve fully fallen apart.

Now…I knew how to put myself back together before the world noticed.

Footsteps echoed close behind me. I closed my eyes for the briefest second, swallowed the last of the lump in my throat, and slipped the I’m okay mask back into place.

It fit a little too well these days.

Adam stopped beside me. I turned toward him, offering a small smile, “Hey.”

His lips twitched in return, but his eyes searched my face for a moment too long, his brows furrowing, clearly noticing the flushed skin, the glassy eyes, and the tears I’d failed to hide.

He sucked in a low breath, refrained from pushing or asking, and extended my cup of tea forward.

I took it from him, “Thanks,” I muttered.

He only nodded before lifting his own coffee to his lips. Then he leaned his forearms against the railing, his gaze drifting toward the endless stretch of water before us.

Silence settled naturally and comfortably between us.

Since the day Nathan left, I’d known he’d asked Adam to stay behind.

The first few days, he followed me around like an overprotective bodyguard. Eventually, we struck a deal. He stopped pretending he wasn’t keeping an eye on me. I stopped pretending I didn’t notice.

We met nearly every day since then so he could make sure I was okay, and if I ever needed anything, he was the first person I called.

He told me that Nathan had left him behind to make sure I had everything I needed.

A sad smile tugged at my lips.

That idiot…didn’t he know he was the only thing I’d ever needed?

Somewhere along the way, Adam stopped feeling like Nathan’s shadow and became my friend, my best friend, even, considering he knew nearly everything there was to know about me.

He and Grandpa were the only people I allowed to visit me during those five months.

Mom and Dad came a couple of times in the beginning, and only stopped when I asked them not to, because their presence did me more harm than good. I just couldn’t bear it.

I told them to focus on Riley, not on me. She needed them; meanwhile, I needed space.

I needed time to learn how to exist inside my own head again before trying to find a place in theirs.

That meant staying away from Riley, too. I never saw her after that first time she tore through my life and every memory I had. I wasn’t ready, couldn’t be. I needed to fix my messed-up brain before facing her again.

So I stayed away for a whole five months, but when I was finally discharged, I tried. I asked to see her again and again. I reached out more times than I cared to admit, but every single time, she refused.

Life had a twisted sense of humor, really. She spent more than a year chasing me before I even knew who she was. Now that I finally did…she couldn’t bear to look at me.

Any news about her came through Adam, thankfully he never hid anything from me. If anything, he became my only connection to the world I’d disappeared from.

He told me that Riley was living with Mom now, while Dad came by almost every day.

Apparently, Grandpa tried keeping Riley with him at first. She ran away before forty-eight hours had even passed. It was Adam who found her and brought her back; he didn’t let me in on the details concerning that part, though.

After that, Grandpa made the difficult decision to take her back to Mom and Dad. Adam told me that it got really messy at that point.

Little by little, the dust settled, and Riley no longer tried to escape or cause trouble for either mom or grandpa. She was with her parents now. The way it should’ve always been. A little family finding a rhythm that had been stolen from them years ago.

And somehow…without me standing in the middle of it, the picture finally looked complete.

After I got out, I still kept my distance from them, not because I didn’t miss them or love them, but I loved them enough to let them go.

I wished things had been different. I wished I’d had the chance to know my sister without pain introducing us first.

Sometimes it still caught me off guard, you know.

I have a sister…

A sister I unknowingly stole a childhood from. A sister whose first memories of me were blood and pain. A sister who couldn’t even bear to look at me, who wished me dead and gone. How do you recover from something like that?

Every time I imagined stepping back into their lives, I saw the picture tilt, a frame hanging perfectly straight against the wall until someone brushed past it.

That someone had always been me.

I’d already turned enough lives upside down. I couldn’t bear the thought of doing it again.

Some people were meant to be part of the photograph. Others were only meant to admire it from outside the frame.

Maybe…I had always been the latter.

My hand lifted almost absentmindedly, my fingers finding the necklace resting against my collarbone.

I traced the edge of the moon with my thumb, feeling every tiny curve of the silver until the familiar motion steadied my breathing.

It had become a habit of sorts—a prayer without words.

My eyes drifted upwards. The moon already lingered above the harbor, pale against the fading afternoon sky, half-hidden behind slow-moving clouds.

It looked lonely, out of place…but still beautiful anyway.

My lips twitched into the faintest smile as I watched it.

It looked utterly lost in the sky…just like me. As though the wolf that had once filled the silence beneath it had simply stopped howling.

My fingers loosened from around the necklace, and I turned to Adam.

“Did you think about what we talked about yesterday?” I asked quietly, determination settling somewhere beneath my ribs. “Will you help me?”

He faced me but stayed silent for a long second, studying my face like he was trying to figure out just how insane I’d become. Then he nodded his head, reluctantly.

“Nathan is going to kill me,” he muttered with a low sigh. “But yeah…sure.”

Relief loosened something inside my chest, and I smiled despite myself, “Thank you.”

He only shook his head as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “This isn’t going to end well,” he muttered while scrolling until he found Nathan’s number.

“I know.”

“You really don’t.”

“Adam, you don’t know where he is, and Christian refused to tell us a thing, so if I can’t go to him, we will make him come here,” I said, unable to take it anymore. Enough was enough.

He pressed the call button anyway before switching it to speaker.

“What if this doesn’t bring him back?” he asked quietly, his uncertain gaze meeting mine.

I lowered my eyes to the phone in his hand and refused to answer that question. I refused to believe six months were enough to erase us.

There was a selfish, ugly little part of me that still wanted to exist somewhere deep inside him, but…but what if he was happy now? What if he had forgotten all about me?

The line rang once.

My heartbeat stumbled.

Twice. My pulse thundered against my ribs…

“What happened?”

The words came so quickly, so sharp and breathless, they nearly knocked the air from my lungs. I stared at the screen, my vision blurring almost instantly.

My heart forgot how to beat.

God…

I’d almost forgotten how his voice sounded. No, that wasn’t true. I’d remembered it perfectly. I’d just forgotten what it felt like hearing it outside my own head.

“Nathan, hey,” Adam greeted, sounding almost painfully casual.

“Adam, what’s wrong? Is Aylin okay?”

My heart skipped a beat, two, and even three…the sound of my name, the fact that he asked about me…

“Yeah, yeah…don’t worry, she is fine.”

There was a very short pause before, “Then why the fuck are you calling me?”

He sounded…tired, soul-deep tired, I’d know.

I lifted my eyes to Adam, who was glaring at me, already regretting doing this.

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck, “I haven’t talked to you in a while, just wanted to check up on you.”

My eyebrow raised, questioning how absurd that sounded. He huffed under his breath, his jaw ticking with annoyance. I widened my eyes at him in warning, silently urging him to stick to the plan.

“Adam, what’s wrong?” Nathan asked, sounding beyond annoyed and impatient, “If something happened and you’re not telling me, I’ll fly back there and personally bash your head against a wall.”

The corner of my lips almost lifted. God, I’d missed that reckless, completely unhinged man more than I could ever put into words.

Adam shot me a pointed look before mumbling under his breath, just loud enough for both Nathan and me to hear, “See, that’s why I didn’t want to call.”

My eyes widened, and I swatted his arm impatiently, mouthing for him to carry on.

“What happened?” Nathan asked, already suspecting something.

I waved both hands at Adam, urging him to keep going.

“Well…there is this one thing that you might want to know.”

There was a short pause. “What?”

“Uh, the other day, I…” Adam cleared his throat. “I saw…”

“Saw what, for fuck’s sake?” Nathan snapped, clearly running out of patience.

“I mean…I think…” Adam couldn’t bring himself to lie. He shot me one hell of a blaming look. I lightly punched his arm, silently telling him to spit it out already.

“Adam,” Nathan said, his voice frighteningly calm now. “My patience is nearly nonexistent. Spit it out.”

“I think Aylin is seeing someone,” Adam blurted out quickly, “A guy, I mean. In case that wasn’t clear.”

I shot him a glare at the way he phrased it. He shrugged helplessly. Nathan didn’t say a single word.

Silence. Utter complete hollow silence followed.

I swallowed hard.

Say something, Nathan, please.

My heart broke. Goddammit, the last thing I wanted was to hurt him, but he just…disappeared. He made it so goddamn impossible to find him, so sue me, but I was using the only thing I could think of that might bring him back here.

We could’ve gone with the famous I hurt myself again, but that would’ve been way too cruel, considering our last memory together…

“Nathan?” Adam tried again.

Before he could say anything else, a distant…female voice drifted through the speaker.

“Nathan, are you coming back inside?”

My brows pulled together as I stared at the screen. The same girl said something else, but I couldn’t make out the words. I kept looking at the phone as though I could somehow see through it.

“Don’t call me again, Adam.” Nathan finally spoke, his voice much lower than before, “I mean it.”

With that, he hung up.

I stayed frozen in my spot, still gazing at the black screen. My lips parted, but no words came out.

Adam slipped the phone back into his pocket with a long, weary sigh. “I told you this wasn’t a good idea.”

I couldn’t gather my thoughts, couldn’t make sense of a damn thing. Her voice and those few words lodged somewhere beneath my ribs.

No, don’t. Don’t do this to yourself. You don’t know who she is, you don’t know anything…

My fingers curled into my palms until my nails bit into my skin. I turned away, fixing my eyes on the sea, willing its endless horizon to quiet the storm rising inside me.

The hurt came first, but was quickly swallowed by anger…this hot, rageful anger bursting in my chest.

He disappeared for six fucking months. He didn’t let me explain, didn’t let me fight for him, didn’t let me choose. He simply decided what was best for both of us and vanished, leaving me behind to mourn someone who was still alive.

My breathing quickened, and before I could think better of it, I slammed my fist into the metal railing.

The impact exploded through my knuckles, pain shooting all the way up my arm.

I drew my hand back to hit it again, but Adam caught my wrist before I could, “Hey, hey, Aylin—”

“Let go.”

“No.”

“Adam.”

He tightened his grip on my arm as a response. I turned around, yanked my arm back, feeling every nerve in my body misfiring.

“I need to find him,” I said, the anger collapsing beneath its own weight, “I don’t know how, but I will, I just…I have to, I have to see him.”

Adam nodded, his expression softening.

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?” I mumbled brokenly, “Just once…just one time, would that be too bad?”

“That’s not it,” Adam said gently, trying to be the sound of logic, “And deep down, you know it.”

I shook my head, tears prickling my eyes, “I don’t know where he is, I don’t know how he is, what he’s doing, I don’t know if he hates me. I don’t know if…” My voice cracked again. “I don’t even know if he still…”

I couldn’t force myself to even say it. He never said it to me himself anyway.

Adam stepped closer without a word, carefully taking my hand before turning it over in his own, checking my knuckles that had begun to redden.

I sniffled, staring at my hand through blurred vision, and shook my head. “That day…it can’t, it just can’t be our last memory,” I whispered, “It just can’t be.”

I lifted my head, blinking away the tears that refused to stop falling, “You will keep on helping me, right?” I whispered lowly, feeling ever so alone.

Adam nodded without hesitation, his worry evident in the persistent frown between his brows, “Of course, we’ll figure out where he is staying, I am sure.”

A sad smile tugged weakly at my lips as I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his waist, “Thank you. I know I am a lot of trouble to you, but…but I feel like I have no one else to lean into.”

“Don’t say that, you are not trouble,” He hugged me back, gently patting my back, which was an improvement. He used to flinch whenever I touched him.

My eyes slipped shut. It really was just him and Grandpa, but lately, I’d been trying not to let Grandpa worry about me anymore. Whenever I was around him, I smiled a little wider, laughed a little easier, pretended I was finally okay.

I’d spent a lifetime giving him reasons to worry. It felt like it was my turn to look after him instead.

Lilly had moved back here, too, but I’ve only seen her once ever since. She tried to text and call, but I was the one who kept the distance between us. It’s just…I still don’t feel mentally prepared for anyone.

I just…I just wanted Nathan…why does it have to be so goddamn hard?

The thought had barely settled before a small hand wrapped tightly around my arm from the back. A low gasp tore out of my throat as the sudden force yanked me backward, away from Adam, before shoving me hard against the railing.

Cold metal collided with my back as the air rushed from my lungs.

My eyes snapped upward, falling on…

Riley?

She stood in front of me, breathing hard, her fingers digging painfully into my arm. Her cap sat crooked on her head from how quickly she’d come over, strands of short hair escaping around her face.

Her chest rose and fell sharply, but it was her eyes that rooted me to the spot.

I’d never seen so much rage in someone’s gaze before, so very raw and untamed.

“You really won’t stop,” she hissed, her voice trembling with rage, “until you take everything from me.”

My brows knitted together.

What?

I was too stunned by her presence, too frozen to move away, push back, or straighten up.

Before I could process what was happening, Adam moved. His hand closed around Riley’s elbow from behind, pulling her away from me with enough force to break her grip.

She stumbled backward, colliding with his chest.

She groaned loudly, jerked violently against him, wrenching her arm free before spinning around to face him.

“Don’t touch me!”

Both hands slammed against his chest, shoving him back a step. He tried to stop her, but she shoved him again, and again, writhing and thrashing against him. Every movement fueled by pure frustration, her fists striking his chest, her foot aiming for his legs whenever she found an opening.

Adam groaned, trying to steady her, “Ri…Riley—”

He barely got the word out when she raised her hand and slapped him right across the face.

My breath caught, and my eyes widened even more. What the—

Adam’s head turned slightly with the force of it. He closed his eyes for the briefest second, his jaw ticking before he looked back at her.

She lifted her hand again, but he caught her wrist before it could land.

She struggled immediately, groaning in frustration, “You liar…” She kicked his shin, stepped deliberately on his foot, panting as she twisted her wrist, trying to break free, but Adam didn’t let her.

“You followed me here?” He asked, his voice calm, but it had a dangerous echo.

“I knew you were coming to see her…” Riley’s breathing was ragged now, every word scraping out of her throat, “You’ve been doing this every single day for the past month, haven’t you?”

She twisted around, glaring at me over her shoulder, her nostrils flaring, “You just can’t stay alone, can you?” She shot out, blame, hatred, and something else in her gaze, something like…hurt?

“You always have to have someone,” She added, “Even Nathan couldn’t handle your craziness and left you, but you can’t stay put, you just have to find your next vict…” The rest of her words came out muffled as Adam placed his hand over her mouth, his other arm going around her waist, pulling her back and keeping her in one place.

She struggled against him anyway, muffled protests vibrating beneath his palm.

He looked at me then, “Just give me a minute,” He said with a resigned sigh before he dragged Riley away.

She bit the inside of his hand on the way. Adam winced, instinctively pulling it back before catching her again when she tried to storm off.

This time, he gently backed her against the railing, one arm braced beside her to stop her from bolting. They were far enough that I couldn’t hear what he was saying, close enough that I could see every expression crossing her face.

I still hadn’t moved an inch, too shocked by this sudden turn in events. I swallowed hard and slowly pushed myself away from the railing, rubbing absentmindedly at the ache in my arm.

Adam leaned down until he was almost eye level with her, speaking quietly. Riley folded her arms across her chest with a huff, turning her face away from him.

Every few seconds, she’d glare back at me, then at him, then away again.

Adam said something else, and whatever it was, it caught her attention. Her eyes reluctantly found his, and little by little, the fight seemed to drain out of her in uneven pieces. Her shoulders lost some of their tension, dipping ever so slightly.

Carefully, Adam reached up and slipped the cap off her head. She frowned immediately, then slapped his hand away before snatching her hat back.

She finally stopped arguing and nodded her head. She lowered her head, looking at her feet, twisting the fabric of the cap between restless, trembling fingers.

I just couldn’t stop looking at her, taking every little detail in.

My chest twisted so painfully…if only she’d give me one chance, if only she didn’t hate me so much.

Adam finally stepped away from her and walked back toward me, though his eyes kept drifting back to her, as if afraid she’d bolt the moment he looked away.

“I’ll take her home,” he said quietly as he stopped beside me. “I can’t leave her alone when she’s like this…she might run away again.”

I nodded, my eyes leaving her and falling on him, “Okay, but you’ve got some serious explaining to do,” I muttered, my eyebrow raising, catching on to whatever that thing was, and the fact that he never told me anything about it.

Adam’s jaw tightened, “I know. I’ll call you after I drop her off.”

He turned back toward her, and this time, I followed. The sound of my footsteps made Riley glance up. Her eyes found Adam first, then me, getting closer to her. The softness that had briefly settled over her face disappeared instantly.

She turned quickly and started walking away.

“Riley, wait, just wait,” I hurried after her, reaching for her arm. She yanked it away before I could touch her.

“Please, just hear me out, one time only, that’s all I am asking,” I added.

She paused and turned around, “I told you I don’t want anything to do with you.” Her voice shook with restrained anger. “Why can’t you understand that?”

Her eyes slowly traveled down from my face to my neck, to the scar I engraved there with my own hands and something cold flashed through her expression.

“I wish you just died, but you couldn’t even do that right—”

“Riley, enough,” Adam’s voice cut through the air sharply.

She looked at him, glared, then back at me, “Stay away from me.”

She turned on her heel before I could say another word. Adam hurried after her, saying something I couldn’t make out.

I stood there for a long moment after they’d disappeared from sight.

The wind carried the sound of the waves. People walked past. Cars came and went. Everything kept moving.

Everything except me.

Eventually, I forced myself back to my car.

I sat behind the steering wheel far longer than I should have, hands resting limply in my lap as I tried to gather thoughts that refused to stay still. They all crashed together until my head pounded so violently I thought my skull might split open.

I reached into my bag, fumbled for my medication, and swallowed two tablets dry.

I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes.

Just breathe.

In.

Out.

Again.

By the time the ache dulled into something I could live with, I opened my eyes. I leaned in, turned the key in the ignition, and drove toward my destination.

If one door stayed closed…I’d knock on another, and another.

Until I found him.

The house came into view twenty minutes later. I switched off the engine but remained sitting there for another heartbeat, my fingers still wrapped around the steering wheel.

I swallowed hard, stepped out of the car, and made my way toward the front door.

The closer I got, the louder the muffled voices inside became.

“…I’m telling you, he’s your son.”

“Oh, so now he’s my son?”

“He’s definitely yours today.”

“Funny how that works.”

I couldn’t stop the tiny smile tugging at my lips at their argument.

I had barely lifted my hand to knock when the front door swung open, and someone walked straight into me that I slightly stumbled.

“Oh, sorr—” Little Nathan took a step back, rubbing the side of his shoulder before finally looking up, the apology dying on his tongue when he saw me.

His expression hardened almost imperceptibly.

I offered him a small smile and lifted my hand in a hesitant wave, “Hey.”

He didn’t return my smile, barely even nodded his head, not acknowledging me at all as he looked behind his shoulder, “Mom, don’t wait up, I’ll be back late.” His tone remained perfectly neutral.

Without another glance in my direction, he brushed past me, his shoulder lightly grazing mine before heading toward his car.

I frowned after him.

What…was that?

“Wait—what?” Natalie’s voice echoed from inside. “What the hell…Nik, aren’t you going to do something about your kid?”

“Didn’t I tell you to just leave him alone?” Nikolas responded defensively.

“Oh, right. Because he’s an absolute delight these days.”

“He gets that from you,” Nikolas said back, his tone somewhat light.

Natalie gasped, “I swear, the two of you are determined to raise my blood pressure—”

I cleared my throat and knocked gently against the half-open door. Footsteps approached, and Natalie appeared a second later.

The moment she saw me, surprise flickered across her face before melting into genuine warmth.

“Aylin, hey!”

She opened the door wider and crossed the distance between us in two quick steps, wrapping me in a hug before I even had the chance to say hello.

I hugged her back, “Hey,” I smiled softly. “I’m sorry for showing up without calling first, but—”

She pulled back and waved the apology away immediately.

“Don’t even think about apologizing.” She smiled, taking my hand and gently tugging me inside. “You’re always welcome here.”

She closed the door behind us before pausing. Her smile softened as her eyes searched my face a little more carefully this time.

“Everything’s okay…right?”

I nodded a little too quickly. “Uh, yeah, yeah.”

Her smile returned, though I wasn’t sure I’d convinced her. She rested a reassuring hand on my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “How have you been?”

“I’m…” I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, buying myself a second. “I’m okay. Uhm, actually…” I hesitated. “I came here to ask you something.”

She nodded, waiting patiently.

“Do you know where Nathan is now?”

Her brows knitted together. “I mean, I know he’s somewhere in London…” she sighed. “But where exactly? No clue. He doesn’t tell me a damn thing anymore.”

She rolled her eyes before letting out another sigh.

“Although…Nik’s seen him a couple of times whenever he was over there,” she explained as we drifted farther into the house.

In the middle of the living room, Nikolas was crouched on the floor, a toolbox spread open beside him as he tightened something on the chain of a tiny pink bicycle.

“Daddy,” A pair of little feet came pattering down the stairs. “Did you fix my bike yet?”

Maria bounded into the room, nearly tripping over the last step in her excitement. She barely made it halfway to the bicycle before spotting me.

Her little face lit up instantly, “Aylin!”

She abandoned the bike entirely and sprinted toward me, her wavy hair bouncing with every step.

A smile broke out on my face, crouching down to meet her energetic self as she crashed into me, her arms wrapping around my neck. I hugged her back, a whiff of something so sweet, like strawberry and soap, hit my nose, and my eyelids fell shut, hugging her tighter, something inside my chest softening.

When I pulled back, I brushed a few wisps of hair away from her face.

“Hey, you.”

She smiled brightly before her eyes darted behind me, then around, before she looked back at me again, her little head tilting in confusion. “Is Uncle Nathan with you?”

My smile faltered for a second, and I shook my head. “No,” I gently tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. “He is not.”

Maria’s shoulders slumped, and her tiny mouth formed the most offended little pout.

“Well…” She crossed her arms over her chest with all the seriousness her small body could muster. “When you see him…tell him I’m very mad at him.”

I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

“Oh?”

She nodded, “He promised he’d come see me after we talked on the phone.” She huffed loudly. “But he didn’t.”

She shook her head with exaggerated disappointment. “I’m so so mad at him.”

I laughed softly, smoothing a few strands of hair away from her face before straightening just as Nikolas walked over. He wiped the grease from his hands with a cloth before nudging Maria’s little feet with his, “Your bike’s fixed, little miss.”

Her eyes grew wide, “Really?”

He nodded, and she squealed. The anger she’d been carrying toward Nathan vanished in an instant. She threw her father a flying kiss before sprinting toward the little pink bicycle, excitement replacing every trace of her tiny grudge.

Nikolas watched her with a quiet smile, one that softened his otherwise intimidating features.

Then his gaze lifted to me, and the smile started to disappear, just enough to remind me why I found him very intimidating.

I offered him a polite smile anyway. He acknowledged it with a small nod.

“Nik, do you know where Nathan is staying?” Natalie asked for my benefit.

“I can find out,” He said simply, his scrutinizing gaze on me, “But why?”

I swallowed hard, “I…I just want to see him, to talk to him. I don’t know where he is. I asked Lilly, but she doesn’t know either, so…” I forced myself to meet his eyes. “I thought maybe you do.”

He nodded his head once, stayed silent for a second, as though weighing every word I’d said, “I get that, but that still doesn’t answer my question.”

My eyebrows pulled closer, so he clarified further, holding my gaze still, “Why do you want to see him, or talk to him?”

There wasn’t curiosity in his voice, only caution. It sounded slightly…protective, I think, and I felt at a loss for words.

“Nikolas,” Natalie sighed, shooting him a look. “Tone it down a little, would you?”

She turned to me apologetically, “You don’t have to explain yourself, it’s none of our business,” She added.

“If you know where he is, just tell her,” she told her husband.

His eyes flickered from his wife back to me, “It is my business, actually,” He said, his voice ever so calm, “If helping you find him means he ends up where he was six months ago, then I need to know why.”

My throat burned, and Natalie’s eyes widened, “Nik!” She shot at him.

He met her eyes for only a second before looking back at me.

He wasn’t trying to be cruel.

He simply wasn’t willing to go easy on me where Nathan was concerned.

Maria called for her mother, time after time. Natalie sighed, “I’ll be back,” She squeezed my arm as she walked past, throwing her husband a pointed look and said, “Behave.”

Nikolas watched her disappear through the back door before turning his attention to me again.

He waited, patiently, for an answer I couldn’t seem to find.

Finally, he broke the silence.

“Look, if seeing him is only going to end up with both of you hurt. Don’t you think it is better to just avoid that?” He said, “Because Nathan today is slightly better than Nathan from four months ago, or Nathan from three months ago…you know him, you know how self-destructive he could get, so is there a need for you to take him back to square one?”

My fingers twisted the hem of my top, and I forced my gaze to stay steady on his as I answered him, “There is this surgery, one for the…” I hesitantly pointed at the side of my head, “For the lesion in my head, it could work…it works most of the time, but it has this one big drawback.”

My voice barely held it together, and his expression shifted as he listened intently to each word.

“Most patients lose pieces of their memory after it, sometimes years, sometimes people, sometimes everything…it’s because of where the lesion is. It’s too close to the part of the brain that holds onto memories.” I explained, “So when the doctor told me that, I just flat out refused it, but…but I have to do this surgery, it is my only way. I know that one day sooner or later, I’ll have to do it.”

I looked down at my hands, “And when I do, there will be this big risk of me losing my memories, of forgetting people…forgetting him,” I shook my head, “So before that, I need to see him, I need to talk to him, to explain myself, to apologize because the last time…our last memory was me trying to hurt myself right in front of him.”

I pressed my lips together, trying to keep them from trembling.

“I don’t want the last thing he remembers about us is me bleeding on the floor. He deserves better than that.” I shook my head, “Even if we never find our way back to each other again…our ending can’t be that.”

The words caught somewhere in my chest, but I carried on, “So yeah, I want to go and see him, I need to correct that before I forget it altogether. I need to go and fix it before it’s too late.”

For a long moment, Nikolas said nothing. His gaze stayed fixed on me, a few lines tightening between his brows. Then his shoulders lowered almost imperceptibly.

He walked over to the kitchen counter, pulled a napkin from the holder, and awkwardly held it out toward me.

“Don’t cry,” He mumbled uncomfortably, “Natalie is gonna think I made you cry and I won’t hear the end of it,” He added, and I sniffled with a smile, totally unaware that a few tears had slipped by.

I took the napkin from him, “Thank you,” I mumbled as I wiped under my eyes.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “I talked with Nathan earlier.”

My head snapped up.

“So, I kind of know where he’ll be tomorrow, and…I will tell you.”

Relief hit me so suddenly that my knees almost gave out.

My lips curved into a smile, but before I could thank him, Natalie walked in carrying Maria’s little pink helmet. She stopped the second she saw my face.

Her eyes immediately narrowed at her husband, “What did you do?” She shot out and smacked his arm with the helmet, “Did you make her cry? I leave you alone for two minutes, just two minutes. I can’t believe you, I really can’t—”

He met my gaze and his eyebrow lifted, “Told you,” He said, and my smile widened as he wrapped an arm around her, leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head as she went on rambling and scolding him some more.

For the first time in months…the weight on my chest lifted.

Just a little.

Tomorrow.

I finally had somewhere to go.

⊹˚₊‧──────────────‧₊˚⊹

Adam dropped me off at the cabin and left after I insisted he do so. If Nathan saw him, he’d either kill him or force him to drag me back to the airport.

I wasn’t about to let either of those happen.

At least…not yet.

The whole killing Adam thing was still up for debate anyway.

During our flight the night before, he’d finally confessed nearly everything about whatever strange thing had happened between him and Riley over the past six months.

I still wasn’t entirely sure whether I approved. I wasn’t even sure they approved themselves.

Anyway, I was still very much skeptical.

I found the spare key exactly where Nathan had hidden it last time we were here, beneath the old lantern by the porch. I unlocked the door but barely had time to step inside before a grey blur launched itself at me.

I laughed, stumbling back a step as Luna’s paws climbed my legs. She meowed indignantly, demanding attention I’d apparently owed her for the last six months.

I bent down and gathered her into my arms. “There you are.” I buried my face into the soft fur on top of her head, kissed her over and over again, “I missed you so much.”

She answered by rubbing her face beneath my chin, purring so loudly it vibrated against my chest.

Her presence assured me that Nathan was here for real. His car wasn’t in the driveway, so he must’ve gone somewhere and would be back soon.

I kept Luna in my arms as I straightened and looked around the place. I glanced through the wide glass doors overlooking the deck, the breathtaking scenery of the hill and the ocean beneath us.

The wind carried the same scent of salt.

The same breeze.

The same place where Nathan and I had our first date, our first goodbye, the place where I had my first episode with him, another memory I had unwillingly tainted…

So many beginnings.

Too many endings.

I forced myself to inhale.

Not today.

Today wasn’t about mourning what we’d lost.

Today…I was getting him back, or at least trying. I was so close. He was finally within reach.

I settled onto the sofa with Luna curled comfortably in my lap. She kneaded absentmindedly at my jumper while I waited for him, every passing minute stretching longer than the last.

My heartbeat lurched when I heard tyres rolling over gravel, the car’s engine going off, footsteps inching, the lock turning.

I held my breath as the door creaked open, footsteps echoed nearer, then came his voice, so painfully familiar that my eyes burned instantly.

“Luna?” Nathan called from the hallway, “Where are you? If you fell into the pool again, I’m not saving you this time. I taught you not to—”

My heart pounded so violently I thought it might give me away before I saw him.

“Well, maybe you should stop leaving the deck door open if you don’t want her jumping in,” My voice came out quieter than I’d meant it to, but it was enough to make him abruptly halt, a force strong enough to jerk his whole being as he stopped by the doorway.

Our eyes met…and everything else ceased.

A paper grocery bag hung from one hand.

For one suspended heartbeat, he simply looked at me…stared, as though every instinct inside him insisted I wasn’t real.

His face drained of every ounce of colour. The grocery bag slipped from his fingers, and it hit the wooden floor with a dull thud.

An orange rolled lazily across the room, bumping softly against the leg of the coffee table.

Neither of us noticed.

Neither of us moved.

His hazel eyes searched my face with desperate, almost frantic disbelief. His fingers twitched once at his side, like he wanted to reach for me, but no longer trusted his own reality.

His chest rose once, then again, almost too quickly.

His breathing had forgotten its rhythm.

Mine had forgotten to exist altogether.

Luna meowed in protest as I gently lowered her onto the couch and stood up. My knees trembled beneath me, every muscle in my body weak with disbelief as I walked closer.

I stopped only a breath away from him.

Close enough to see the faint shadow of exhaustion beneath his eyes.

Close enough to notice the new lines grief had carved into his face.

His gaze wandered over me with agonizing slowness…my eyes, my hair, my nose, my lips, then back to my eyes, as if searching for proof that I wasn’t about to disappear if he blinked.

He blinked anyway, just once, so slowly.

When he opened his eyes again…I was still there.

Something inside him broke, I felt it, saw it happen in real time, in the breath he failed to catch, in the way his walls crumbled soundlessly behind those hazel eyes.

The silence between us became unbearable; there were thousands of unsent words, millions of thoughts, but every single one of them suddenly too small for this moment.

A tear escaped before I could stop it, then another, yet somehow…I smiled, a small, fragile smile.

“Nathan,” My voice was barely more than air.

His hand lifted, and it trembled so violently I thought he might stop halfway.

His fingertips hovered beside my face, then, with heartbreaking hesitation, the back of his fingers brushed a loose strand of hair away from my cheek.

The breath he’d been holding escaped him all at once.

It sounded almost painful, almost like relief, almost like a prayer finally answered.

“Princess?”

⊹˚₊‧──────────────‧₊˚⊹

Author’s note:

HEYYYY! It’s been so long! I know you missed me so much 😉
I was just so goddamn busy, jeez, I was aching to write but couldn’t…

Anyway, here I am, finally back home and back to my old routines.

This chapter was getting way too long because I couldn’t just stop writing. So I decided to split it into two parts. This is part one. We will have part two soon, and then an epilogue *sobs*

So, what do you think? Did you miss these crazy people? What do you think will happen next?

Drop your thoughts and comments, I missed you guys!

See ya soon 🩶