The sound of the door closing echoed like a gunshot in Adrian's chest.
For a long, hollow moment, he stood frozen in the silence she left behind. His hands trembled, his throat burned, his heart screamed for him to run after her—yet his legs refused to move.
She loves me. She still loves me.
But love wasn't enough. Not when trust was shattered.
Adrian sank into the chair, his head in his hands, and let out a ragged breath. He had fought wars, built empires, faced down men who would kill him without hesitation—but nothing had ever terrified him like the thought of losing Amara.
And that was exactly what was happening.
Not because Cassandra was cruel. Not because fate was merciless.
But because he had lied.
By the time Adrian forced himself out of the apartment, Amara was already gone.
The night was quiet, the streets glistening with rain, but her absence was a roar in his chest.
He searched—her favorite café, the little bookstore she always lingered in, the park bench where she liked to watch the city lights. Nothing.
Each empty place was another crack in his resolve.
No. I won't lose her. Not like this.
He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over her number. He wanted to call, to beg, to fall on his knees if he had to—but would she even answer?
Instead, he typed a message. Deleted it. Typed another. Deleted it again.
Nothing was enough.
Meanwhile, Amara sat curled up on her best friend's couch, clutching a blanket around her shoulders. Her eyes were swollen from crying, but no tears came now. She was hollow, emptied.
Her friend, Lila, touched her hand gently. "Amara… do you want to talk about it?"
Amara shook her head. Words would only break her more.
But inside, her thoughts screamed.
I love him. God, I love him. But how can I trust him when he hides behind half-truths and shadows?
Her chest ached with the memory of his kiss, his touch, the way his voice cracked when he said he chose her.
If only love was enough.
Adrian stood outside her window hours later, watching the dim light of Lila's apartment. He hadn't knocked. Not yet.
His fists clenched at his sides.
He would wait. He would suffer. He would do anything—everything—to prove to Amara that she wasn't just a distraction, a fleeting light in his darkness.
She was his salvation.
And Adrian wasn't about to let salvation slip through his fingers.