Chapter Eighty: The Question, and Finally, the Truth
The night had stilled around them.
The breeze had softened, the sea grown quieter, as if the ocean itself leaned in to listen.
Kian waited.
Unmoving.
Unwavering.
That question—Why did you leave without asking me to come with you—lingered between them like smoke.
And Chloe hadn't answered.
Not right away.
She sat there, wine untouched, fingers nervously tracing the rim of the glass.
She glanced up at him, eyes meeting his—and saw the weight of everything he didn't say.
The anger he never voiced.
The pain he never asked her to carry.
The love he never stopped holding.
Then finally, she spoke.
"You know the reason, Kian."
Her voice was low. Steady. Measured.
He didn't flinch.
Didn't nod.
Didn't move.
So she kept going.
"I needed to go far. I needed to try… really try living not depending on my parents, my brothers…"
A breath.
"Even you."
His jaw twitched.
That was the first crack.
And yet—his voice came out quiet. Controlled.
"That's what you're going with?"
She looked at him.
Straight. Firm. But tired.
"It's the truth. Or at least, part of it."
Another silence settled.
He waited.
So she sighed.
Long. Deep.
And with it—the years began to peel back.
"Maybe… maybe it's time to say everything. Maybe after six years, I'm ready to know the answer myself."
She turned toward him fully now.
Her eyes searched his face—not for kindness, not even for understanding—but for the space to be honest.
"You know that I hate cheating, right?"
Kian nodded, jaw clenched slightly.
"Yeah. I know that."
"So…" she hesitated. "What would you have done if I thought you did?"
That caught him.
His body stilled, every breath a quiet question in itself.
And still—he said nothing.
Not yet.
Because now?
Now the truth was unraveling.
And they both knew—the next words would change everything.