If This Is Wrong, Why Does It Feel So Good

That day, Gavrila's house felt more crowded than usual. Servants were milling about, flowers were being delivered in large quantities, and there was even catering coming into the main kitchen.

"Something going on?" I asked Livia.

"Nathan is having a private meeting with some business associates and old family friends. He said… you can come, if you feel strong enough."

A business meeting, she said. But my instincts told me it was more than that.

I went down to the main hall an hour later, wearing a simple cream-colored dress. My hair was neatly slicked back, a little makeup from Livia—just enough to look decent in a crowd of important people.

The room was filled with unfamiliar faces. All looked rich, confident, and… full of pretensions.

But one face immediately caught my attention.

A woman stood by the piano, wearing a wine-red dress. Her long hair was flowing, her eyes sharp, and her lips curved toward me—a faint smile, not a greeting.

She approached.

"You look… different, Adel."

Her voice was soft, but piercing. Like a sharp knife in a silk sheath.

I pretended to be confused. "Excuse me, who are you?"

She chuckled.

"That's a funny question. We've been sitting at the same table for two years, best friends. Or at least we used to pretend that way."

I paused. My brain was spinning fast. This… must be one of Adel's real close friends.

"Sorry, my memory is still blurry since the accident," I answered, trying to sound neutral.

She nodded slowly. But her expression didn't change.

"My name is Clea. I… know too much about you, Del. And you're not the type of person who forgets everything just because of a small collision."

Straight to the point.

She leaned in closer, whispering in my ear.

"The Adelina Gavrila I know… would never be this gentle. Would never speak softly like a girl who's just learning to be human."

I swallowed.

Nathan approached from the right side. "Clea," he greeted briefly.

Clea immediately stepped back, her face smiling sweetly again.

"Nathan," she said. "Your sister… has changed, huh. Calmer. More… obedient."

Nathan stared at Clea for a long time, coldly. "She's still recovering. Leave her alone."

Clea just shrugged, then walked away.

But before she disappeared from sight, she turned to me once more.

"We'll talk again, Del. I'm sure you still remember a lot of things you haven't admitted."

After all the guests had left, I sat on the balcony, restless.

Nathan followed. "You look nervous."

"Who's Clea?" I asked immediately.

Nathan sat down next to me. "Clea Evelyn. Adel's close friend. They used to be almost inseparable… until they suddenly had a big fight. Adel never told me the details."

"Are you sure Clea isn't a threat?"

Nathan looked at me. "Precisely because I know she's a threat."

I nodded slowly. "She said… I changed. And she suspected it."

Nathan clenched his fists. "If she finds out, I'll make sure she stays quiet."

"Nathan—don't. We can't live under threat forever."

he leaned in, looking at me seriously.

"I won't let anyone destroy you. You're mine now. I'll protect you… from anyone, even Adel's own past."

My heart was pounding.

But deep down, I knew… that past wouldn't stay quiet. And Clea… wasn't one to give up after a single glance.

On the dressing table that night, I found a piece of paper tucked under Adel's old lipstick.

The handwriting was delicate, but strong:

"Do you think you can take my life just like that?

If I can't get out, then you won't be at peace in this body either."

I dropped the paper.

For the first time… I felt truly unsafe.

Not just from Clea.

But from the real Adelina Gavrila.

I locked my bedroom door that night. Not because I was afraid, but because for the first time… I realized how fragile the line between who I was and who I was supposed to be was.

The threat note I'd found was still in my dress pocket. Tucked away. Almost like a voice in my head whispering: "Not yours. Not for you."

But Nathan didn't know that. Or he pretended not to. He still treated me like the only thing worth anything in the world.

And I… was starting to have trouble telling if I was falling in love with him… or just needing someone to make me feel real.

He came into my room without knocking. It was a habit. But tonight, he was quieter than usual.

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly.

"Clea texted," he replied, sitting down in a chair by the window. "She said you were… hiding something."

"And you believe her?"

"No," he said quickly. "But I believe you're hiding something. And that's what scares me."

I took a breath. "Nathan… you know I'm not the Adel I used to be."

He stood up. Slowly. Closer to me.

"I know. But you're still the one I want to protect the most."

He stood in front of me now. Very close. His face was calm, but his jaw was tight. There was an emotion he was holding back—one he'd been carrying around for years.

"But it's not just about protecting, is it?" I said.

He stared at me. Deeply. As if trying to read my mind.

"I love you," he said finally.

"As who?"

"As you. Whoever you are now. What matters is… that you're here."

I didn't answer. But my body tensed.

"Nathan…" I whispered.

"If this is wrong," he said, moving closer, "why is it that every time you talk… I feel right?"

We were now only a breath apart. And when his hand touched my cheek, I couldn't move. Not because I was afraid. But because I wanted to.

His kiss fell slowly. Hesitant at first, but quickly turning into certainty. Warm. Deep. Buried for too long.

My hand instinctively grasped his collar, and for a moment… the world felt silent. No Clea. No threat. No idea of ​​who I really was.

There was only him. And this feeling.

But in the midst of it all… a whisper came into my head.

"You stole what was mine."

I jumped back. My breath hitched.

Nathan stared at me, panicked. "Did I—did I overdo it?"

I shook my head. "Not you. But there was something… wrong."

He pulled me into his arms. Tight.

"We can fight anything," he said. "Including the ghosts of the past. I won't let anyone take you away."

I gripped his shirt. Still shaking.

Because I was beginning to realize… our love wasn't just complicated. It was also dangerous.

And if this love continued to grow, then sooner or later—someone would have to give.