The words hit Eliana like lightning cracking open a midnight sky.
For a second, she honestly wondered if she'd imagined them—if her brain had finally decided to give up and start hallucinating for entertainment. But no. Rafael stood right there, large as life and twice as dramatic, looking like a man who had just set his entire future on fire and was waiting to see if she would bring water… or gasoline.
She forgot how to breathe.
What exactly was she supposed to do with a declaration like that?
It hung between them, thick and suffocating, the kind of silence that made even the air feel intrusive.
And yes — it was dramatic. Painfully so. The sort of thing you expected from a tragic stage play where everyone died at the end.
But this was Rafael.
A man who treated manipulation like a competitive sport.
Which meant if he was standing here, raw and unguarded…
Then something inside him had truly cracked.
Her thoughts spiraled.
Is this real?
