CHAPTER 13

I didn't even realize how tightly I was gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I don't know what I was expecting, but the pit in my stomach had been growing every hour, every second, since Evelyn ran from the mall without a word.

And Sebastian? Nothing. No message. No call. Not even a damn emoji.

So I drove. I didn't care how it looked. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was desperate. But I was scared. Scared of what silence could mean. Scared because in a very short span of time, these three people—Luke, Evelyn, and especially Sebastian—had cracked something open in me. And now it was all unraveling.

I rang the bell at Luke's apartment, heart pounding like it might break through my chest. The door opened a crack—and there he was.

Luke.

He blinked like he was seeing a ghost. "Olivia? What—what are you doing here?"

I didn't hesitate. "Is Sebastian here?"

He opened his mouth, hesitating, like he wasn't sure if he should answer. Then finally, with a reluctant nod, he stepped aside.

I pushed past him, heart racing, and then—I froze.

Sebastian.

He stepped out from the hallway like a shadow.

Bruises littered his cheekbone, his jaw. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked... hollow. Like someone had taken a match and burned out everything that made him shine.

"Sebastian..." I breathed, stepping forward, instinctively reaching for the bruise on his face.

But he flinched.

Flinched away from me.

"You shouldn't have come here," he said. His voice wasn't cold—it was frozen. Sharp and unrecognizable.

I stood there, confused. "What?"

"You should go," he said again, firmer. Like I was a stranger who'd stumbled into the wrong house.

I felt something inside me crack. "I was worried about you. Evelyn ran out of the mall terrified, and then none of you answered anything. I didn't know what to think—"

"Well, now you know," he interrupted. "We're fine. So leave."

His words sliced through the air like a knife.

I stared at him, stunned. "Why are you talking to me like this? What the hell happened to you?"

"This is the real me, Olivia," he said, meeting my gaze. "You got caught up in some fairytale version of who you thought I was. I'm not that guy."

"Bullshit," I snapped, the pain bubbling up into anger. "You don't get to pretend like none of it mattered. Like I don't matter."

"You don't," he said.

I froze.

"You were just... something temporary. A distraction. You said it yourself—we don't even know each other."

And that—God, that hurt more than I was ready for.

"Then why did you make me feel like I did?" My voice cracked. "Why the hell did you make me believe you were different?"

"Because I was stupid," he said flatly. "I let my guard down. That was my mistake."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No, your mistake was thinking you could push me away like everyone else and I wouldn't care."

"You shouldn't care!" he shouted suddenly, startling all of us.

Luke looked away. Evelyn's face crumpled with guilt, her lips trembling.

I could feel my heart breaking piece by piece, and I hated that I was crying in front of him. Again.

"I've spent my whole life being afraid of one thing," I said quietly. "Abandonment. And guess what? You three made me believe—for a second—that maybe I didn't have to be alone anymore."

Sebastian's jaw clenched, but he didn't speak.

I laughed bitterly through the tears. "But I was wrong. Because you left. You all left. And maybe that's on me. Maybe I was stupid to believe that I was more than just a passing moment to you."

Evelyn stepped forward, looking like she wanted to explain—but I held up a hand.

"Don't," I whispered. "Just don't."

I turned to go.

"Liv—" Luke began, but I didn't stop.

I didn't look back.

Because if I did, I'd shatter.

And as I walked out the door, the last thing I saw was Sebastian staring after me, like he wanted to say something—but his mouth stayed shut.

Sebastian POV

I didn't move for a long time after she left.

The door had slammed, her footsteps had faded, and Luke and Evelyn had stopped calling after her. And yet the silence was deafening. Like the echo of something beautiful slipping through your fingers before you even realized you were holding it.

 "Fuck," I muttered, I sat down on the floor of the hallway, head leaning against the wall, and shut my eyes.

Why the hell did she come?

Why did she look at me like that—like she was scared for me, like I mattered?

I didn't. She didn't know that yet. But I did. And I'd done her a favor by showing her exactly who I was.

"You're not safe here," I whispered to the ghost of her.

Her wide, tearful eyes were still seared into my memory. That split second before she reached out to touch my bruises, and the way her fingers halted mid-air when I backed away. Like I'd slapped her without ever lifting a hand.

God.

I curled my fists against the floor and bit down on my lip hard enough to taste copper.

I didn't want to be seen like this.

Not by her.

Not by anyone—but especially not her.

Because Olivia... she didn't look at me like the rest of the world did. She didn't flinch. She didn't walk away. She walked toward me. And that made her dangerous. That made her everything I couldn't handle right now.

She looked at me like I wasn't some shattered mess of broken ribs and darker thoughts.

She looked at me like I was human.

And I didn't deserve that.

She didn't know what it meant to care about someone like me. What it meant to get pulled into this black hole of bruises. What it meant to look too closely and see everything I'd spent years hiding. If she kept caring, if she kept looking at me like that... she'd end up ruined. Just like everything else I touched.

I had to push her away.

It was the only way I could protect her.

And fuck, I hated myself for it.

"Seb," Evelyn's voice came from down the hall, soft, cautious.

I didn't answer.

She waited a beat before continuing, "She didn't deserve that."

"I know," I whispered, but not loud enough for her to hear.

"She really cares about you," she said.

I didn't look up. "She shouldn't care. She barely knows me."

"And you barely know her," Luke said, quietly now, "But that didn't stop you from texting her back night after night. From making her laugh. From... showing her pieces of yourself you don't show anyone else."

I closed my eyes again.

And that was the problem.

I didn't understand the depth of it. I didn't want to. But something about the way she looked at me... like I was worth worrying over, like I was someone who mattered enough to come all the way here...

It shook something loose in my chest.

It wasn't love. I didn't know what love even was. But it was something terrifyingly close. A thread that tied her to me in ways I didn't have a name for.

And now I'd probably cut it clean.

I'd seen her face when I told her to leave.

How her eyes filled with disbelief. Hurt. That quiet heartbreak that only comes from caring too much.

She'd told me she feared abandonment.

And what did I do?

The exact damn thing she feared most.

My throat closed up. I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes and sat there in the dark hallway, the weight of everything I wasn't crashing down around me like a storm I couldn't outrun.

I didn't know what we were.I didn't know how to fix it.But I knew one thing with excruciating clarity: She had walked in with her heart in her hands.

And I shattered it.Because I was scared.

Because I cared.

And because some twisted part of me believed that pushing her away was the only way to keep her safe from the mess I've always been.

Olivia POV

I didn't remember turning the keys in the ignition. Didn't remember shifting into drive. All I knew was that the road blurred past me, but not as much as the tears clinging to my lashes. My fingers tightened around the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I could still hear Sebastian's voice—sharp, cold, like the snap of a bone breaking.

"This is the real me."

Then why did it hurt so much?

Why did my heart feel like it had been carved out with a dull knife?

I parked outside my house and sat there for a moment, forehead against the steering wheel, breathing in broken fragments. My chest ached. I had never wanted anything from him—just... not this. Not abandonment. Not cruelty.

I wanted to be his soft place to land. Instead, he threw walls at me.

Inside, the house was silent. Cold. Mehusa was long asleep

I collapsed onto my bed, pulling the blanket over myself like it could shield me from the echo of his voice.

I hated him. No, I didn't.

I should've.

I should've never cared.

But the worst part?

I still did.

I still fucking cared.

Even now, after being shoved out like some mistake he wanted to forget—my chest still ached at the thought of him hurting, alone, locked away in some storm I couldn't reach.

And for the first time in weeks, I didn't reach for my phone to message him.

Because I already knew: He wasn't going to reply.

And I didn't think my heart could survive being ignored one more time.