I look down at my hands, voice quiet now, raw. He’s crying now—silently.
“Because... I fell in love with you, Vik. A little too fast.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Advik
I’ve known I wronged the woman I love.
For years now, I’ve lived with the knowledge of how I let someone else blur the edges of my misplaced affection. How I mistook protectiveness for something more. How I let itfester—until itmutatedinto betraying her.
But I never realized—not truly—what Istolefrom her.
Not just the love we had. Not just her trust. But the life she dreamed of. The peace she’d started building. And I ripped it away without even knowing.
She’dchosenme. Not just to love, but tobecome. To be someone she never thought she could be. A version of herself that was soft, and safe, andreal.
And I ruined it.
A part of me wants to feel honored. That I was once her happy place. That I held that kind of weight in her life. But that same part is darkened now. Curled in on itself with shame.
Because I didn’t just lose her. Icosther.
‘I came back from Afghanistan broken. Dying. Incapable.’
She went back to a life she had walked away from. A life she never wanted to return to. Because I wasn’t enough. Because I failed her so completely that she gave up on peace. On us. Onherself.
Imade that happen.
She could’veactuallydied and my heart renews the ache from that time I saw her‘date of death’in a dossier. But this time it’s tenfold.
And she’s still sitting across from me, her hands tucked beneath the table. But I can see it—the slight tremble in her shoulders. The stiffness in her jaw. She’s unraveling in real-time.
She didn’t want to say all that out loud. But I can feel that sheneededto. I wasn’t meant to know the full extent of what she sacrificed. And now that I do, it feels like something inside me has been ripped clean out.
“If I could, I’d...” I choke on the words, my voice gravel. “If you let me—if youlet me—I’d spend the rest of my life trying to bringGreeshaback. I’ll make that dream come true because... it ismydream too.”
She doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t move.
“I never stopped loving you. Not even when you left. Not even when you... died. Not even when I—when I made the biggest mistakes of my life. I’ll... baby, I’ll build thatboring, quiet, normal, beautiful lifefor you again—even if I’m... not in it.”
Her breath catches.
I watch her jaw clench, her throat working like she’s swallowing broken glass. Her shoulders curl in ever so slightly. Like she’s bracing for impact.
“I think that’s enough talking for today,” she whispers finally. The pain on her face is worse than anything she’s said. A devastating frown marring her face. “We can... yeah... we can talk later. If—if... if...”
She breathes out harshly, her voice thin. “If...”
I can’t take it anymore. I shoot to my feet, circling the table, panic spiking in my chest. For a second—just one second—I seeher.My Greesha. The one who would have let me hold her. Who would’ve leaned in instead of pulling away.
But just as I kneel beside her, she shuts her eyes.
And Iseeit when it happens, the shutters coming down—the wall climbing up. Her eyes, once glazed, are now looking at me with such cold intensity that if I weren’t already on my knees before her, I would collapse.
And then she’s gone. Her chair scrapes back sharply as she rushes toward the guest room. The door clicks shut behind her.
And I’m left kneeling on the cold floor, staring at the empty chair she left.
