Chapter 41: The Breaking Point

Leonidas woke to an empty bed.

The sheets beside him were cold, the space where Anastasia should have been eerily vacant. He sat up, his heart pounding, his mind racing. Where was she? Had she left? Had he pushed her too far?

No. He couldn't think like that. He wouldn't.

He found her in the garden, her silhouette bathed in the pale light of dawn. She stood by the fountain, her arms wrapped around herself, her gaze fixed on the water as it cascaded into the basin. She looked ethereal, like a ghost who might vanish if he reached for her.

The thought terrified him.

---

He approached her slowly, his footsteps silent on the dew-covered grass. She didn't turn, didn't acknowledge his presence. It was as if she'd built a wall around herself, one he couldn't breach no matter how hard he tried.

"Anastasia," he said, his voice low, hesitant.

She flinched, her shoulders stiffening, but she didn't look at him. "I couldn't sleep," she said softly. "I thought some fresh air might help."

He wanted to ask if it had. He wanted to ask why she hadn't woken him, why she'd left without a word. But the words caught in his throat, tangled in the knot of fear and frustration that had been growing inside him for weeks.

Instead, he stepped closer, his hand hovering over her shoulder before he let it drop. "You're cold," he said. "Come inside."

She shook her head, her gaze still fixed on the fountain. "I'm fine."

The words were a lie, and they both knew it.

---

Leonidas clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He wasn't used to feeling helpless. He wasn't used to not knowing what to do. But with Anastasia, it was different. She was different. And he was losing her.

"Talk to me," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Please."

She turned to him then, her eyes filled with tears she refused to shed. "What do you want me to say, Leonidas? That I'm sorry? That I'll try harder? That I'll be better?"

His chest tightened at the words, at the pain in her voice. "I don't want you to be better," he said. "I want you to be *you*."

She laughed, a bitter, broken sound that cut through him like a knife. "You don't mean that."

"I do," he said, his voice fierce. "I don't want you to change, Anastasia. I never did."

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and for a moment, he thought he'd gotten through to her. But then she shook her head, her expression hardening. "You say that now, but what happens when you realize I'm not enough? What happens when you find someone who fits into your world better than I ever could?"

The words hit him like a blow, knocking the air from his lungs. "Anastasia—"

"No," she said, cutting him off. "I can't do this anymore, Leonidas. I can't keep pretending everything's fine when it's not."

---

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and final. Leonidas felt something inside him snap, the fragile thread of control he'd been clinging to unraveling in an instant.

He reached for her, his hands gripping her shoulders, his eyes burning with desperation. "You think I don't see you?" he said, his voice raw. "You think I don't see how much you're hurting? How much you're trying to be someone you're not?"

She tried to pull away, but he held her fast, his grip firm but not painful. "Let me go," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"No," he said, his voice breaking. "I can't. I won't."

Her eyes filled with tears, and this time, she didn't try to blink them away. "Why?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "Why do you care so much?"

The question shattered him.

"Because I love you," he said, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "Because you're everything to me, Anastasia. Everything."

She stared at him, her eyes wide, her lips parted in shock. For a moment, neither of them moved, neither of them breathed. Then, slowly, she reached up, her hand trembling as she cupped his cheek.

"Leonidas," she whispered, her voice filled with wonder.

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing as he savored the warmth of her hand against his skin. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner. I'm sorry I made you doubt how much you mean to me."

She shook her head, her tears spilling over. "You don't have to apologize," she said. "I just… I needed to hear it."

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, as if he could erase the distance between them with the strength of his embrace. "I love you," he said again, his voice fierce. "And I'm not letting you go. Not now. Not ever."

She buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. "I love you too," she whispered, her voice muffled but no less heartfelt.

---

They stood there for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other's arms, the world around them fading away. For the first time in weeks, Leonidas felt like he could breathe. Like he hadn't lost her after all.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were red and puffy, but there was a lightness in her expression that hadn't been there before. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft. "For pushing you away."

He shook his head, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "You don't have to apologize," he said. "Just… don't shut me out again. Please."

She nodded, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. "I won't."

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers, his breath mingling with hers. "Good," he said, his voice low. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

And for the first time in weeks, he believed it.