He stood there, looking ruined. Shirt wrinkled, hair mussed, eyes so dark that my heart wobbled.
But I held the line.
“I trusted you,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “You decided what I could handle. You made me small.”
Cristian’s face cracked, just a fraction, like a statue finally showing strain. “I thought I was protecting you. I was… wrong.”
The words stung. God, they stung. It wasn’t just the fact that he’d kept it a secret, it was the confirmation of every old fear I’d carried like luggage I forgot I didn’t need anymore.
Too much. Not enough. Breakable. Fragile. Someone you need to lie to for their own good.
The ghosts of those thoughts flickered through me, but they didn’t take over. I couldfeelthe difference. The Nadia from six months ago was hovering behind me, ready to spiral, while present-day Nadia put a hand on her shoulder and said,Not today, babe. We’ve done too much work.
Taking a breath, I held his gaze.
“You keeping this from me wasn’t about me being weak,” I said slowly. “It was about you being scared. You trying to shoulder everything alone. You not trusting yourself to hand me the hard things.”
Cristian’s jaw tightened. “I did not want to cause you pain.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, surprising myself with how certain I sounded. “You tried to protect me. I get that.”
His eyes softened, and in them, hope and devastation tangled together.
“But I still feel betrayed,” I admitted. “And I need time to process and settle my emotions. To not… lash out just because I’m scared.”
He bowed his head slightly, as if my words were some royal decree he intended to honor.
“I understand.”
“And Cristian?” I added, voice dropping. “Thank you for trying to protect me. Even if it was the wrong call.”
He let out a breath like it burned him on the way out. “I’m sorry, Nadia.”
“I know,” I whispered.
A heavy, aching silence stretched between us.
“I’m going to take a nap,” I said. “I just… I don’t have more energy than that right now.”
He stepped back immediately, giving me space like he was afraid to steal air from my lungs.
“I’ll leave you to rest.”
I closed the door gently and leaned against it as my pulse ricocheted through me.
Once it had calmed, I climbed into bed, tugging the blanket up to my chin. My chest ached. My head throbbed. I felt sick and drained and scared and—God help me—I still wanted him near.
As sleep pulled me under, one last thought drifted through the haze.
I wish he were here. Just… here beside me.
But he wasn’t. And for now, that had to be okay.
I woke up gasping.
Cold sweat plastered my shirt to my skin, my hair stuck to my face, and my heartbeat thrashed like it was trying to tear through my ribs. For one disorienting second, I had no idea where I was.
Then the bond hit me. It was wrong, hollow, like a violin string stretched too thin.
