A knock came at the door.
Frowning, I wiped my hands on my jeans and walked to the front door, curiosity tugging at my gut. When I opened it, I was met by a man in a blue delivery uniform holding a box.
“Miss Ainsley Hades?” the man asked.
“Uh, yes, but I didn’t order anything.”
He glanced at his clipboard and then at my face. “Someone ordered it for you. You’re listed as the recipient.”
“Who sent it?” I asked, my brows furrowing.
“Sorry, ma’am. I don’t have the name of the sender.” He handed me the box with a polite nod and had me sign on the clipboard before walking away.
I stood there for a moment, confused, before closing the door and carrying the box into the kitchen. When I opened it, I nearly gasped.
Inside was a spread of gourmet food. It smelled incredible. Roasted chicken with a garlic herb glaze, creamy mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, and a decadent slice of chocolate cake. The kind of food that made your mouth water on sight.
I frowned. Just when I was hungry...
A message beeped in. From Theon.
Theon:I’ll give you space, but don’t think for one second that I’ll sit back and let you starve yourself. You can punish me, but don’t punish yourself.
I stared at the screen, my vision blurring as tears fell onto it. Damn it. I clenched the phone. I didn’t want to cry again, but here I was. Why did he text? Why did he send me food? And why the hell was my heart racing? Just like I thought, he had cameras everywhere.
Though the food looked divine, I shoved the box aside and made something small for myself. It was a poor comparison—bland and sour—but I wasn’t about to eat anything from him. That was the point. I wasn’t ready to give in.
As I chewed, my thoughts wandered like a dog without a leash, trying to understand him. Anyone would have thought they’d been left for dead on that cliff. Maybe I hadn’t fought enough for him. Maybe I’d believed the teachers too easily.After all, I would’ve died that night if he hadn’t mysteriously appeared.
I shook my head violently and cursed under my breath. No. I wasn’t going to rationalise this. He had gone too far, and I wouldn’t just forgive him.
After finishing the small meal, I dumped the plate into the sink and retreated to my room. Tomorrow will be another battle with my stupid heart.
23
THEON
I haven’t eaten since she left here.
I’d been sitting at my computer, switching between staring at her closed curtains and her living room through surveillance feed, waiting for any sign of movement. Hoping that at some point, she’d pull the curtains back and let me see her. Two in the morning, and the curtains were still drawn. Was she asleep? Curled up on her bed? Pacing around her room? Still crying?
I hated the thought of her crying.
Earlier, when she finally came out after hours of hiding in her room—hours that almost had me sprinting to her place just to check if she was okay—I felt a wave of relief. Even though I knew she was cleaning just to distract herself from what had happened, I was glad. Glad that for a moment, she wasn’t crying. I’d watched her every move, unable to tear my eyes away. Every second of not knowing what she was doing ate at me, at something dark and obsessive deep inside. I knew she’d hate me watching her, but I couldn’t stop. Not seeing her, not knowing, drove me to the point of madness.
I didn’t want to text her. I really didn’t.
She needed space, time to breathe, to process everything that had gone down between us. I was trying—I was really trying—to give her that. But when I saw she hadn’t eaten anything, not in over twenty-four hours, and that she was wearing herself thin with chores, I couldn’t stay silent. I had to do something. I ordered her food.
She didn’t touch it, of course.
But she ate. I made her eat. That was a win.
I flicked through the feeds—her front porch, the kitchen, the living room, the tree outside her window. All still and quiet. She must’ve gone to bed.
Stretching, I groaned as pain shot through my back. I hadn’t eaten or slept either, but I couldn’t. Not with the regret that clung to me, the heavy guilt that wouldn’t let me rest. I hated the person I was. Not the me from six years ago. Not the me who followed her on that trip after just a day of trying to live without her. That idiot thought he could last three days without seeing her, but by the end of the first day, I was already travelling, chasing her like my life depended on it. It did.
It was that second night that I found her, far from the camp, wandering in the woods.
