Chapter Seven: The Last Sunset
The golden skies of Santorini bled into lavender as Nuria and Asa sat by the edge of their villa's private balcony. Below them, the waves whispered against the cliffs, and above, the sun dipped lower into the cradle of the sea. Nuria curled her legs beneath her, her fingers clutching the stem of a half-finished wine glass.
"You're quiet today," Asa said, his voice like honey—but thicker, like it wanted to stick to something.
She turned to him, her chestnut hair catching the sunset. "Just tired, I think. I can't believe we're flying out tomorrow."
"Doesn't feel real, does it?" Asa leaned in, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "But we're not going back to ordinary. We're starting something... new. Permanent."
He kissed her cheek, but there was a weight behind the gesture. It lingered too long.
---
Earlier that day, they'd wandered through narrow alleys lined with cobalt shutters and sleepy cats. Nuria bought a bracelet from a quiet vendor who complimented her eyes, while Asa watched from a distance, lips tight.
"You always attract attention," he murmured as they walked away.
"What do you mean? He was just being nice."
"That's what they always are at first." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
She laughed it off. But her stomach tightened.
---
Their last dinner on the island was meant to be romantic. Candlelight flickered across Asa's face as he made a toast.
"To you. My wife. My forever."
They clinked glasses. Nuria smiled, but noticed how hard he was gripping his.
Later that night, she lay curled beneath linen sheets, the sea air soft through the open window. Asa was behind her, his arm around her waist, breath even. But something woke her.
A shift in the mattress.
She kept her eyes closed.
His hand moved up. Not lovingly. Not protectively. His fingers hovered, then trailed up to her neck. Not touching. Just close.
Her breath hitched.
He stopped.
"You're awake," he whispered. His voice was syrupy sweet again.
She opened her eyes. His face hovered above hers, smiling gently.
"I was watching you. You twitch in your sleep. Like you're running from something."
She gave a breathless laugh, her pulse sprinting. "Maybe I'm dreaming of high school. Those exams were terrifying."
He kissed her. "You're safe now. I'll always protect you."
His words were warm. But her body wouldn't stop shivering.
---
That night, Asa dreamt.
He was under the table again. The smell of blood sharp in his nose. Screams echoing through the hall. His brother's face—not screaming anymore. Just still. A warm splash across his cheek. A man screaming, then silence.
And then a girl's voice, high and trembling: "I don't want to play anymore."
Asa woke with a jolt, sitting upright in the dark.
Nuria stirred beside him. "Asa?"
He looked down at her, chest heaving, eyes wild. Then, as if a switch flipped, he smiled.
"Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep."
He pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. She felt his breath on her neck.
"You smell like jasmine," he whispered. "I never want to lose you."
She closed her eyes. Something about the way he said it made her feel like he already had.
---
In the morning, Asa was cheerful again. Packing their bags, humming an old tune. He brought her coffee in bed, kissed her forehead, made jokes about how he'd never survive airport security without her.
But when she stepped into the bathroom, she saw faint bruises on her hips. Fingers, maybe. She didn't remember it being rough.
She rubbed them gently. Didn't say a word.
They boarded the plane back home just before sunset. Asa held her hand tightly during takeoff.
He leaned in and whispered, "The world's going to know you're mine now."
And Nuria smiled, nodding.
But out the window, the sky was the color of dried blood.
And the sun was sinking.