And that was why she had to go.
She pressed her knuckles to her mouth, choking back the sob rising in her throat. His scent still clung to her skin—dark, woodsy, intimate. His touch already a ghost she’d never be able to outrun.
Last night had been more than she ever imagined. More than just sex. It had been a deeper connection, one that had touched her all the way to her soul. She had surrendered to feelings she knew but didn’t understand—until now.
It terrified her.
Once, she had dreamed of a love like this. The kind that wrappedaround her bones and made her believe in forever. The kind her grandfather had felt for her grandmother. The kind her parents had shared.
It was the nightmare of that love that had woken her, feeling queasy and panicked.
Look how that ended.
Her throat tightened.
Pain speared her again—but this time, she let it in.
She could still hear their laughter—hers and her parents’—as they planned their vacation. Then came the screams, tearing through her memory like the moment it all fell apart.
She closed her eyes. She could almost feel the flames. Smell the smoke. Hear her mother’s anguished, pain-filled screams. Feel the weight of her father’s silence.
For years, there had only been charred pieces of memory, relived in fragmented nightmares. But the soft, broken sound of her mother’s weeping, her tortured pleas, had haunted her dreams.
Dani finally understood the answer that had always been there—in the shadows. She understood why her mother’s heart—her very desire to live—simply gave out. It stemmed from the pain of losing the man she loved more than life itself.
Her grandfather had tried. He’d held her, comforted her, offered reasons that never soothed the ache. The therapist had done the same. But nothing could stop the weight of her grief—or her fear.
Her mom might have made it if her dad had lived.
That was love,Dani thought bitterly.A beautiful dream that could turn into a nightmare in an instant, leaving you vulnerable—defenseless.
She used to think love could heal. That was why she’d trusted Zayan—because he offered the illusion of it. He had made her forget for a short while.
But true love—genuine love—doesn’t make you forget. It makes you realize how much you have to lose,she thought with a twist of agony.
The thought of losing Alexandros—whether it was in five years or fifty—was unbearable. The idea of waking up one morning and nothaving him beside her, of hearing his laugh vanish, of watching the light in his eyes dim forever?
No. She couldn’t survive it.
She wouldn’t survive it.
She would rather walk away now. While she still could.
With trembling fingers, she reached out to brush his hair back from his forehead, but paused before she touched him, afraid of waking him up. Her vision swam. His skin would be warm under her touch. The faintest smile still ghosted his lips, as if he was dreaming of her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I love you too much.”
She stepped back on silent feet, careful not to disturb him. Her knees threatened to buckle beneath her, but she forced herself to stay upright. Her clothes from the night before were crumpled in a heap on the floor, but she ignored them. They were ruined—like her. Unfixable. Torn between what was and what would never be again.
She turned away, crossing the room. She picked up her boots by the door before adjusting the knapsack she’d packed before dinner last night.
The fact that she’d packed it was proof she was making the right decision. She’d known, deep down, she wouldn’t be able to stay. Not after spending the night with Alexandros. Not after feeling what actual love was. Not when the risk of losing it was so unbearably high.
The hallway was silent.
Cool air brushed her face as she stepped barefoot onto the marble floors. Each step sent her boots tapping against her knee like a warning bell—each knock a whisper:Don’t do this.
She padded quietly past the guest bedrooms, hearing her grandfather’s familiar snores as she passed a room two doors down. She continued down the staircase and into the foyer lit only by the faint orange glow of a single table lamp.
