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Am I?

“I’m glad,” I think I hear her whisper.

Then she murmurs something else in Romanian, her voice breaking so badly I can barely make out the words.

I glance over my shoulder.

She’s still standing at the counter, supporting herself with both hands. The tea has been ready for a while, but she hasn’t even looked at it.

Part of me wants to stay.

To ask what happened.

To find out why she suddenly looks like she’s barely holding herself together.

The other part reminds me I’ve already been pushed away twice, and I’m not willing to hand her another opportunity to do it again.

I force myself to face the elevator.

One step.

Then another.

I press the button, and the doors slide open almost instantly. Without looking back, I take another two steps. Three seconds later, they shut again, the elevator making its usual sound.

Right then, Selene breaks down crying, folded over the counter. Before I can reach her, she grabs the mug of tea and hurls it into the kitchen cabinets.

Porcelain explodes all around her.

A heartbeat later, her legs give out, and she crumples beside the shattered pieces.

Something inside my chest breaks right along with her.

I cross the room in seconds.

“Hey, hey,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around her before she can pull away. “What’s wrong, babe?”

She struggles at first, startled that I didn’t leave, horrified that I’m witnessing this.

But it doesn’t matter, nothing could make me let go now.

“Talk to me,” I whisper.

Carefully, I lift her into my arms and carry her to the bedroom, refusing to loosen my hold until I lower her onto the edge of the bed.

The first thing I do is check her hands and legs for cuts from the broken porcelain.

She hurriedly wipes at her tears, avoiding my eyes.

“Please leave, Zayn,” she whispers. “I’m fine.”

I laugh humorlessly as I take a small step back.

“Nothing about this looks fine.”

When she remains silent, I try again, softening my voice.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong.”