I don't know what was more disorienting, the warm clinks of silverware at the Gutierrez family dinner or the fact that Sebastian kept stealing glances like he was afraid i'd disappear again.
Claudia was still across the table, pouring wine into tall crystal glasses, her smile calm but curious.
She had no idea.
Not until now.
And i could tell.
The subtle twitch of her brow the moment Sebastian leaned in and called me "Margaux" under his breath.
The way her fingers paused mid-air, wine bottle held steady, eyes flicking between the two of us.
She knew.
And somehow, it made my spine straighten.
I wasn't some stranger anymore. I was her—the girl Sebastian once cried for.
The girl who broke him.
And apparently, the girl he invited back into his life.
"How long have you two… known each other?" Claudia asked after a sip of red wine, her gaze finally settling on me.
Sebastian cleared his throat beside me, careful.
I didn't look at him.
I couldn't.
I held my glass gently and answered, "A while back. I met Sebastian in Korea. We were neighbors." My voice was even, polite.
"Neighbors?" Claudia echoed, amusement tugging at her lips. "Interesting. You must've had no idea he was who he was."
"Oh, I did," I replied quickly. "But we managed to be normal about it."
Normal.
What a stretch.
Nothing about us had ever been normal.
From the stolen nights to the bitter silence that followed, we were a thousand contradictions.
Claudia's expression was thoughtful.
Maybe she already knew.
Maybe she was putting it all together now, the late-night calls, the songs in Sebastian's albums that never made full sense until now.
"You're the girl," she finally said, almost to herself.
Sebastian turned to her sharply. "Mom—"
"It's okay," she smiled gently. "You don't have to explain."
I swallowed.
There was something motherly and terrifying in her acceptance.
She didn't raise her voice or make it dramatic.
But there was weight in her silence.
She just knew.
The tension broke a little when Atasha returned to the table with a cheesecake from the fridge, completely unaware of the emotional undercurrents. "Margaux! This is my brother's favorite. Try it."
Sebastian visibly cringed.
I laughed softly. "Thank you, Atasha."
Dinner ended with fewer words, more thoughts.
Claudia and Raphael made their way to the balcony, subtly giving us space.
I followed Sebastian to the hallway, where we both lingered beneath the soft yellow lights, pretending not to remember the last time we looked at each other this long.
"You didn't tell them it was me," I said, leaning against the wall.
He gave a short nod. "I wanted to… but i wasn't sure if you were ready."
I looked at him then, really looked.
He was older.
Not in the way his skin aged, because it hadn't.
He was still the Sebastian the world adored.
But there was maturity in his gaze now.
Less of the boy who used to chase me through elevators and more of the man who survived heartbreaks on stage, smiling through his own ruins.
"Are you… okay with this?" I asked. "Me being here again?"
"I should be the one asking you that," he replied. "You left, Margaux."
I closed my eyes. "I know."
"And now you're here. In my house. Talking to my parents. Eating cheesecake with my sister." His voice was low, almost tired. "What does it mean?"
I faced him. "I don't know. All i know is… I'm sorry."
He looked away, jaw tightening.
"And i still love you," I whispered.
The silence cracked between us like a fault line.
"You can't just say that and expect it to fix everything," he said finally.
"I don't expect it to," I murmured. "But i'm saying it because it's the truth."
He laughed under his breath, bitter and vulnerable. "You said i was a distraction."
"I know."
"You said i was your hobby."
"I didn't mean it—"
"But you said it."
The air was thick with memory, the echoes of words we couldn't unsay.
"I was scared," I admitted, voice trembling. "I thought leaving was the only way to protect you. From me. From the scandal. From the chaos i always bring."
Sebastian didn't move.
"I thought if i disappeared, you'd be better off."
"And i wasn't."
His eyes met mine.
"I wasn't better, Margaux. I was angry. Lost. I couldn't write. I couldn't sing without thinking of you. I hated you," he said, voice breaking.
"And I loved you so damn much i didn't know how to stop."
My heart clenched.
"But i survived," he continued, gentler now. "And so did you."
We stood in the silence of that admission, two people broken by the same decision, now trying to piece together what was left.
"I don't want the world to know," I whispered.
"Not yet."
His brows furrowed. "Why?"
"Because this time… I want it to be ours first."
He exhaled, slowly. "Okay."
"Really?"
"Yeah. But on one condition."
I raised a brow.
"Promise me you won't run again."
My eyes filled with tears. "I won't."
He took a step forward.
And for the first time in a long time, he pulled me into his arms, not as a memory, not as a ghost, but as the woman he once loved and maybe, just maybe, still did.
—
The weeks that followed were quiet.
He didn't post about me.
I didn't tag him.
No sightings, no blurry photos, no vague captions.
The only ones who knew were Claudia, Raphael, and Atasha and none of them breathed a word.
Claudia, in fact, warmed up faster than i expected.
One afternoon, she called me into her office at Lueur during a campaign shoot. I walked in cautiously, unsure of what this was about.
She poured two cups of tea and gestured for me to sit.
"I want you to know," she began, "that i had my doubts."
I nodded. "I expected that."
"But after last week's dinner… and after watching you interact with my son… I realized he never looked more alive."
Tears stung my eyes.
Claudia reached out and held my hand. "Just don't break him again."
"I won't," I said, and I meant it.
—
Sebastian and I met in secret.
Rooftops.
Coffee shops with tinted windows.
My condo.
His dressing room backstage after rehearsals.
No kisses in public.
No holding hands in daylight.
Just us, existing in a pocket of the world we could still call safe.
And it was enough.
For now.
One night, as we sat on his balcony, wrapped in sweaters and memories, I turned to him. "You still don't regret this?"
"Not even a little."
"I might be bad for your image."
He smirked. "Then we'll just keep it between us until the world's ready."
"And if they never are?"
"Then let them chase shadows."
I laughed.
And he pulled me close, resting his forehead against mine. "We've already lost each other once. I won't let it happen again."
I kissed him, soft, slow, and steady.
We were no longer the boy and girl trying to escape the noise.
We were the man and woman who learned to live through it.
And maybe this time, that would be enough.