Chapter 14 — Night Arin Breaks Down
The apartment was dark except for the faint glow of the streetlight through the window.
Arin sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders trembling slightly.
Meira knelt beside him, hand hovering before resting gently on his.
"Talk to me," she whispered.
He shook his head.
"You don't understand… you can't. No one does."
"Try me," she said softly, eyes warm but firm.
"I won't run. Not now. Not ever."
The dam broke.
He buried his face in his hands, shivering.
"The things I've done… the people I've lost… the boy I used to be… gone," he choked out.
"I left because I had to survive. Because surviving here… it would've killed me."
Meira squeezed his hand.
"You didn't fail. You lived. That's enough. And you're not alone anymore."
He looked at her, eyes raw, vulnerable.
"I don't know how to… be soft. To… let someone in. I don't even remember how it feels."
"You'll remember," she said, brushing wet hair from his face.
"Piece by piece. I'll help you."
Arin swallowed hard.
The walls around him trembled for the first time in years.
He didn't collapse, but the cold mask slipped just enough.
And in that quiet, heavy night, something new began:
A fragile trust.
A cautious hope.