Chapter 68 – Past Flashbacks
The quiet hum of the city outside felt almost like a lullaby as I sat on the balcony, nursing a mug of steaming chamomile tea. The twilight sky bled shades of purple and gold, reflecting the mix of emotions swirling inside me. It had been weeks since the chaos of the show had begun to settle, yet here I was, revisiting the echoes of the past that refused to fade.
Dante leaned against the doorway, arms crossed loosely, his gaze softer than I had ever seen it. "You're quiet," he said, his voice carrying that warmth that always made me feel like I could breathe again. "Thoughts running a mile a minute?"
I smiled faintly, tracing the rim of my mug with a finger. "More like a marathon," I admitted. "Memories I can't seem to escape. All the mistakes… all the times I doubted myself, doubted us."
He stepped closer, perching on the balcony ledge beside me. "Talk to me," he said gently. "I'm here for every messy, complicated thought you have. Even the ones you think you shouldn't say aloud."
The first flashback came unbidden—a rainy afternoon, a café filled with the soft hiss of steam from the espresso machine. I remembered sitting across from him, fumbling with words that refused to come out, my palms slick with nerves. "I think… I think we need a break," I had said, my voice barely audible over the rain tapping against the window. I hadn't wanted to hurt him, hadn't wanted to admit that fear of losing myself—or him—had made me run. Yet the words had fallen anyway, and the world between us had cracked in a way I thought might never mend.
I shivered slightly, not from the memory itself but from how vividly it came back—the ache of loss, the twisting guilt that had followed me ever since. "I left," I whispered, almost to myself. "I ran because I was scared. Scared of hurting you, scared of getting hurt… scared of letting anyone see how much I… how much I loved you."
Dante's hand found mine, warm and grounding. He didn't speak immediately. Instead, he squeezed gently, letting the silence stretch just long enough for me to release some of the weight I had been carrying. "You did what you thought was best at the time," he finally said, voice low, comforting. "And I… I hurt too. But we're here now, aren't we? We made it back to each other."
Another memory flashed—our first awkward reunion on set, the tension between us so thick I thought I might choke. He had approached me, exuding that effortless confidence that had always both infuriated and captivated me. We had sparred verbally, tested each other, yet beneath the playful barbs and lingering glances, I could feel that old spark, stubborn and alive. I had panicked then, my heart thundering against my ribs, uncertain whether it was love or the remnants of old wounds driving the feelings.
"I remember that," I murmured. "The way I wanted to yell at you, push you away, but also… I wanted to throw myself into your arms at the same time. I hated that I still cared so much."
Dante's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "And yet you did care. You still do. That's why we're sitting here, mug in hand, with the past behind us but not forgotten. Every awkward step, every tear, every ridiculous misunderstanding led us to now. And now… I don't want to let go of you again."
The memory of our first private kiss after months of tension surged forward. The gentle brush of lips, tentative at first, then claiming each other fully—it had been the turning point, a moment of surrender that had thawed months of fear and guarded hearts. I could still feel the heat, the pulse, the steady certainty of him holding me in a world that had, at one point, seemed determined to keep us apart.
"I was so scared of being hurt," I admitted, voice shaking. "Scared you'd leave again, scared the world would tear us apart."
"You weren't the only one scared," he said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I was terrified of losing you too. But we faced it. We faced the cameras, the scheming, the leaks, the lies… and we survived. Together."
I leaned into him, letting his warmth seep into my bones. "Together," I echoed, tasting the word like a promise. My heart swelled, full and heavy with the past, yet lighter somehow knowing that those mistakes had led me here—to this moment, to him.
Our conversation drifted into laughter as we remembered the absurdities—the staged fights, the ridiculous challenges, the moments of sheer embarrassment that, at the time, had felt mortifying. Dante's teasing voice, the way he had always known how to make me laugh even in the darkest hours, reminded me of why I had loved him in the first place. And why I continued to love him, fiercely and without reservation.
"I don't think I've ever met anyone who can handle both my drama and my career mess-ups and still choose to stick around," I said, laughing, though tears glimmered at the corners of my eyes. "You're insane."
He smirked, brushing his thumb lightly over mine. "And you're worth every ounce of my insanity," he said. "Every. Single. Ounce."
The sun dipped lower, and the balcony glowed with the soft hues of dusk. In that quiet moment, all the tension, all the chaos of our past, felt like it had been absorbed into something larger, something beautiful. Forgiveness, love, and trust intertwined into an unspoken promise: that no matter the trials, we had each other—and that was enough.
I rested my head on his shoulder, heart full, mind clear. "I love you," I whispered, feeling the words settle between us, heavy with sincerity.
"I love you too," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "More than I ever thought possible."
And in that shared silence, amidst the memories and the lingering pain of old mistakes, we found our peace. The past was acknowledged, the heartbreak understood, the growth celebrated. We were stronger for it, closer for it, and undeniably, irrevocably in love.
As night fell, we stayed like that, holding each other, letting the world fade away. There was no audience, no cameras, no rivals scheming behind the scenes—just us. And for the first time in what felt like forever, it was enough.
We had made it through the chaos. We had faced our fears, our insecurities, our misunderstandings. And now, we could finally move forward—together, whole, and unshakable.
⸻