Chapter 15

Chapter 15 – Weight of the Past

The silence after her story hung heavy in the room, like dust in still air. Elena sat motionless, her shoulders tight, her breath shallow. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came. It was as if her soul had finally exhaled after holding its breath for too long—and now, the crash of emotions surged forward like a tidal wave.

Tears began to stream down her cheeks.

She didn't try to stop them. There was no use pretending. The weight of everything—her trauma, her guilt, her self-blame—came crashing down on her all at once. And she crumbled under it.

"I was so foolish…" she whispered, her voice cracked, raw. "I let it happen. I walked right into it, Sam. I trusted him. I let him in."

Sam was at her side in an instant. He didn't speak right away. He simply gathered her into his arms, his embrace warm, steady, unshaken. He held her like she wasn't broken. Like she was still whole, still worth holding.

"You're not foolish," he murmured into her hair. "You were young. And trusting someone isn't a crime."

"But it feels like one," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. "I let my guard down. I believed him when he said I was special. I ignored the warnings. And now… now I see it. I see how naive I was. How blind."

Sam gently pulled back, just enough to look at her. His hands still rested on her arms, grounding her.

"Elena," he said, his tone firm but not unkind, "you're not to blame for what he did."

She looked away.

"Yes, I am. I should've known. I should've seen it. There were signs. I just didn't want to believe someone could be that... cruel."

Sam leaned in again, pressing his forehead lightly to hers.

"Believing in the good in people isn't weakness. It's strength. You held onto hope. That doesn't make you blind—it makes you human."

The tears kept coming. "But because of me… because I wasn't careful… you got hurt. Kevin came after you. And I—" Her voice broke again. "I can't bear that. I can't live with the fact that someone else paid for my mistakes."

Sam pulled her close again, his arms tightening around her.

"You listen to me," he said, his voice low and intense. "You didn't make him hurt me. He made that choice. Kevin is responsible for his own cruelty. Not you. Never you."

"But—"

"No." He pulled back again, this time gently placing his hands on either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. "Look at me, Elena. Right here."

Her tear-filled eyes met his.

"Are you listening?"

She nodded slowly.

"Good. Then hear this. I came for you because I care. Because I couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you and me doing nothing. Because when I was at my lowest, you didn't walk away from me. You didn't give up on me. You stayed."

"I didn't do anything special," she whispered.

"You did everything. You saved me from myself. You helped me believe I wasn't broken beyond repair. Dont you remember our conversation at your coffee shop ? You sat with me in silence for two hours. You didn't ask questions. You didn't push. You just stayed."

"I didn't know what else to do," she said softly.

"That *was* enough. You being there—it was more than enough. You saw the darkness in me, and you didn't flinch. So don't you dare say you've done nothing."

A fresh wave of emotion welled up in her throat.

"And now, when you're the one hurting, when you're the one blaming yourself for something that wasn't your fault—I'm here. Elena. ."

Her breath caught at that word..

Sam's expression softened, realizing what he'd just said. But he didn't pull it back.

"Elena," he said again, 

Elena stared at him, eyes wide, lips parted. Her heart thundered in her chest. It felt like the world paused, giving her a moment to catch up to everything that had just been said.

"I don't know if I deserve that," she whispered finally.

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You don't have to earn love. You don't have to be perfect to be loved. You just have to be you."

Silence fell again, but it wasn't heavy this time. It was full. Safe.

"I've carried it for so long," she said. "The guilt. The fear. The shame. It's like this weight I couldn't put down."

"You don't have to carry it anymore," he said. "Whatever comes next—we face it together."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"Me too," he said. "But we're still here. We're still fighting. That's what matters."

A long moment passed.

Then, quietly, Elena said, "Thank you."

He didn't say "you're welcome." He didn't have to. His arms around her said it all.

They sat like that for a long time—two people broken, maybe, but not beyond repair. Two souls who had seen darkness and chosen to reach for light anyway.

Together.