Eric's POV
My head was pounding. The fire in the cave was a painful orange glow, and I couldn't look away from it. I could feel Sofia's eyes on me, her presence a silent, patient weight in the air. She wasn't pressing, wasn't demanding. She was just… there. And for the first time in years, the fortress I had built around my heart felt like it was crumbling. I had said Lana's name, and now the floodgates were open. I had to tell her everything. I had to let it out.
I took a deep breath, and the cave fell away. I wasn't here anymore. I was back.
We met in high school, on the first day of our senior year. I was a puppet on a string, my life already planned out for me by my family. Lana was an artist, a force of nature, with a laugh that could make you forget every worry in the world. We had art class together, a space where I could be just me, not the son of some powerful man. She saw that. She saw the art I never showed anyone. She saw me.
My father, in his cold, businesslike way, told me I was to be married. A union of power, he called it. The girl was Katarina, a model. Beautiful, cold, and as apathetic about our arranged marriage as I was. But she wasn't indifferent to Lana. She found out, of course. Her power-hungry family had spies everywhere. Katarina looked at me not with jealousy, but with a terrifying, possessive ownership. She told me she'd make Lana's life a living hell. She promised to kill her if I didn't go through with the wedding. The ironic part is, our wedding was the least of our worries. She abandoned me on the day of the ceremony for a shoot in Italy. My family was furious, but in a way, she saved me from a life I never wanted.
The last time I saw Lana was a few days before my older sister's wedding, a grand affair where I was expected to be on my best behavior. I was at the rehearsal dinner, a suffocating event full of people I didn't know and couldn't stand. I ran. I ran to her, to a field of wildflowers behind my family's estate. The sun was setting, painting the sky in a final, fiery goodbye. She was waiting for me. I took her hand and pulled her into the tall grass, away from the world that was trying to tear us apart. We fell into the wildflowers, and the world shrank to just the two of us.
She gave me a self-portrait she'd been working on. Her hands trembled as she handed it to me. "To remember me," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Just in case."
I took the drawing, tucking it into my pocket as if it were the most precious thing I owned. Then, our lips met. It was a kiss born of desperation and sorrow, a beautiful, final goodbye. Our hands found each other, then moved over each other's bodies, a frantic, silent language of our love and our fear. We held on, clinging to each other as if we could stop the inevitable. We became a tangled mess of clothes and wildflowers, the scent of her perfume filling the air. We were one, in that moment, a perfect whole. It wasn't just a physical act; it was a desperate, primal attempt to create a memory so powerful it could last a lifetime. It was a promise that, no matter what happened, we would always have this.
Afterward, we lay in the tall grass, our bodies entwined. We had a few stolen hours of peace, but it wasn't meant to last. The monster—my family's security—came after us. We heard their vehicles in the distance, their spotlights sweeping the fields. We had to depart, to run back to our separate, cruel realities. I never saw her again.
I wiped a single tear from my cheek and opened my eyes. The fire was still there, the silent cave, and Sofia. The gruff, angry man was gone, replaced by the broken boy I had been. I had given her a piece of my heart, a painful memory I had carried for a lifetime. And for the first time, I wasn't alone with it
The words had left my mouth, spilling out of me like a dam that had finally broken. The story of Lana, of my family, of the choices that had shattered my life—it was all out there, hanging in the air between us. I couldn't look at Sofia. I kept my gaze fixed on the fire, the same fire that had illuminated my memories, but now it felt different. It felt… exposed. I had carried that burden for so long, and I had endured it all for one reason. I had to survive.
I waited for her reaction, for the pity, the judgment, the questions. I was braced for it all. But nothing came. The silence was a weight, but not a suffocating one. It was a space, and in it, I felt her presence. I felt her watching me, and for the first time, I didn't feel the need to build my walls back up. Then, I saw her hand, holding out the waterskin. It was a simple gesture, but it hit me like a physical blow. She didn't offer words, didn't try to fix it. She just offered me water. A basic human kindness, devoid of pity. I took it, my fingers brushing hers, and the touch was a quiet shock.
I drank, the cool water a contrast to the heat in my chest. When I handed the waterskin back, I finally looked at her. Her face was calm, her eyes holding a depth of understanding I hadn't expected. She saw me not as a broken man, but as someone who had endured. She had heard my story, and she was still here.
I got to my feet, my muscles stiff and sore. I went to Refugia, a sudden need to see her, to touch her, to ground myself in this new reality. I gently adjusted her blanket, my hand hovering over her small head. This child... she was the reason I was still here, in this moment. But Lana was the reason I had survived. The hope of seeing her again, the faith that our paths would cross, had been my single-minded purpose for months. It had fueled every step, every choice.
When I sat back down, I didn't return to my usual, distant spot. I sat closer to Sofia, the small space between us now a quiet testament to the bridge we had just built. I was tired, a deep, bone-weary exhaustion from carrying a lie for so long. "We should get some rest," I said, the words a low rumble, but they carried no edge.
She just nodded. No more questions. No more words. I looked at her, at the quiet strength in her face, and I understood. This wasn't the clumsy girl I had found. She was a silent guardian, a protector of more than just the baby. She was a guardian of my secret. And in that moment, as the silence settled between us, I knew we weren't just surviving anymore. We were something else. We were a team, bound not by chance, but by a quiet purpose that I was finally willing to share.