CHAPTER 13

The Flashback

The rain outside tapped against my window, a rhythmic, relentless reminder of the storm inside me. I sat curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, but nothing could keep the cold from seeping in. It wasn't the weather. It was the memory. A single sentence, long buried but never truly forgotten, surfaced with painful clarity.

"Sometimes love is a luxury we can't afford."

Alex had said those words once. Back then, I had brushed them aside, convinced he didn't mean them the way they sounded. But now… now I'm not so sure. Has he been warning me all along? And I—foolish, hopelessly in love—had refused to listen?

I closed my eyes, and suddenly, I was there again.

It was a warm summer night. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine, and the distant rumble of thunder hinted at a coming storm. We were standing on the balcony of a hotel, the city stretching before us in glittering lights. I remembered the way Alex looked that night—dressed in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly tousled from the breeze. His profile was sharp against the night sky, his expression unreadable.

I had been smiling, my fingers wrapped around the stem of a champagne flute, feeling invincible in the warmth of his presence.

"Do you believe in forever?" I had asked, feeling bold, feeling reckless.

Alex had turned to me, his blue eyes unreadable. He was silent for a moment, and then he exhaled a slow breath. "Forever is a long time, Sophia."

I laughed, brushing off his hesitation. "That's the point."

His fingers drummed lightly against the railing. "People change. Circumstances change."

"But love shouldn't," I countered.

He smiled then, but it wasn't the soft, affectionate smile I had grown to love. This one was different—guarded, almost sad. "Sometimes love is a luxury we can't afford."

I had frowned, the words stinging more than I expected. "What does that mean?"

Alex hesitated. Then he reached for my hand, his fingers tracing slow circles against my skin. "It means life isn't a fairytale, Sophia. Love isn't always enough."

I pulled my hand away, an uneasy feeling settling in my chest. "That sounds… cold."

"It's realistic."

"Maybe I don't want to be realistic," I said, my voice rising slightly. "Maybe I want something real. Something that lasts."

His gaze darkened. "And what if I can't give you that?"

The question had stopped me in my tracks. Even now, I could still feel the weight of it pressing against my chest.

I swallowed hard, searching his face for something—anything—that told me he didn't mean it. "Then why are we here, Alex?"

He had looked away then, his jaw tightening. "Because I care about you."

"That's not the same as love."

He let out a quiet, bitter laugh. "Love isn't as simple as you think, Sophia. It's not just grand gestures and stolen kisses. It's a sacrifice. It's a compromise. And sometimes… sometimes, it's knowing when to walk away."

The words had sent a chill through me, even on that warm summer night. But I had refused to believe them. Refused to believe him.

"You're wrong," I whispered, reaching for his hand again. "Love is about fighting for each other, no matter what."

His eyes had softened then, but there was something else lurking beneath them—something I couldn't name. "I hope you're right," he had murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I really do."

And just like that, the storm had broken.

Thunder cracked overhead, and the sky opened up, rain spilling onto the balcony in heavy sheets. We laughed, running inside, dripping wet and breathless. The tension of the moment before had disappeared, lost in the rush of the storm.

I had convinced myself that his words had been nothing more than a fleeting thought, a passing fear.

But now, sitting alone in my apartment, the memory burned through me like fire.

Has he been telling me the truth all along? Had I just refused to listen?

A sharp knock at the door yanked me from my thoughts. My heart slammed against my ribs. For a split second, I thought—Alex.

But when I opened the door, it wasn't him.

It was Claire, her blonde hair damp from the rain, eyes filled with concern.

"You haven't answered my calls," she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "I was worried."

I forced a smile. "I'm fine."

Claire's eyes flickered to the wine bottle on the coffee table—half-empty. Then the blanket wrapped around me like armor.

"Yeah," she said dryly. "You look at it."

I sighed, sinking back onto the couch. "It's nothing. Just… thinking."

She plopped down beside me, tucking her legs under herself. "Let me guess. Alex?"

I didn't answer. I didn't need to.

Claire exhaled, running a hand through her damp hair. "Soph, he loves you."

I let out a hollow laugh. "Does he?"

"Yes."

"Then why does it feel like he's always holding something back?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Like he's always waiting for the moment when it all falls apart?"

Claire was quiet for a moment. "Maybe he's scared."

I turned to her. "Of what?"

She shrugged. "Of needing you too much. Of loving you so much that losing you would destroy him."

My throat tightened. "That's not love. That's fear."

Claire gave me a small, knowing smile. "Maybe they're the same thing."

I looked away, my mind spinning. Could love and fear really be two sides of the same coin? Has Alex been trying to protect himself all along—protect us?

I thought back to that night on the balcony. The way he had looked at me as if he wanted to believe in forever but didn't trust himself to.

I thought I knew him. Though I understood every look, every touch, every silence.

But maybe I had missed something. Maybe I had been blind to the truth all along.

And the worst part?

I wasn't sure if I had been blind… or if I had simply refused to see.

The storm outside raged on, but inside, it was quieter now.

Too quiet.

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't sure which one scared me more.