Avery's POV
Evening had fallen, draping the city in a blanket of soft orange and deep purple. The lights outside twinkled faintly, but I barely noticed them. My eyes were fixed on the suite door, willing it to open, willing him to appear.
I had spent the entire day pacing, tidying, attempting to occupy myself with small tasks that felt meaningless without him. The flowers from the wedding still rested in their vases, the wedding gifts stacked neatly, but everything felt hollow. My fingers tapped nervously on the edge of the table, my stomach a knot of anxious anticipation.
I had tried to remind myself not to wait, not to expect, but it was impossible. My mind replayed last night in fragments—the tension, the intensity, the quiet fire of his gaze. Even his brief words, measured and distant, had left their mark. I had wanted more, craved closeness, yet there had been a boundary he had maintained. A barrier that made my heart ache even as I longed to cross it.
I rose from the chair, moving to the balcony, letting the cool evening breeze wash over me. The wind tousled my hair, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside me. My fingers clenched and unclenched at my sides as I whispered his name softly, almost in prayer. "Axel…"
Every creak of the hallway made my pulse jump. Every distant noise in the hotel—the soft hum of an elevator, a door closing somewhere—made me tense, hoping that it was him. My chest ached with longing, with anticipation, with the desperate need to bridge the distance between us.
Axel's POV
The day had stretched longer than expected, filled with matters I could not postpone—calls that weighed on me like stones in my chest. I had wanted to return sooner, to be there with her, but circumstances had demanded otherwise. I knew Avery would wait. She always did. But knowing that did little to ease the tension, the ache in my chest, or the guilt I felt toward her.
When I finally opened the suite door, the sight of her stole my breath. She sat at the small table, hands fidgeting, eyes darting toward the door every few seconds. Her hair fell in soft waves around her face, cheeks flushed faintly from waiting, and her eyes—bright, anxious, vulnerable—locked on mine. My chest tightened, a deep, unfamiliar ache.
She stood slightly as I entered, the way she had moved, tentative yet expectant, almost made me falter. Every step I took closer was measured, careful, aware of the tension hanging between us like a fragile thread.
Avery's POV
I felt my heart leap as he moved toward me, the room suddenly too small, too full of tension. "Axel…" My voice barely rose above a whisper.
His blue eyes held me in place. Calm, controlled, and yet unreadable. "Avery," he said, his voice low, steady, but distant. There was no warmth in it, only the authority I had grown accustomed to in class, the quiet command that left me breathless.
I motioned toward the small table. "I… I thought we could eat together," I murmured, my words trembling with nervous hope.
He looked at the table once, then back at me. A faint tension pulled at the corner of his mouth, and he shook his head almost imperceptibly. "In the future… don't wait for me," he said quietly, almost as a warning.
My chest tightened. "What…?" I began, my voice faltering. But no words came after that, only a heavy silence that filled the room like a tangible thing.
Axel's POV
I could feel her confusion, her hurt, the longing in her eyes, and it twisted something inside me. I had to leave. I had to maintain the distance, the control. Waiting for me would only lead to disappointment, frustration, and pain. She deserved better, even if she didn't understand it yet.
Her lips trembled, her hands froze, and the ache in my chest grew sharper. She wanted me to stay, to erase the distance, but I could not give it—not fully, not yet. The fire I felt for her was strong, but it was tempered by reason, by the boundaries I had to maintain.
I nodded once, briefly, my gaze meeting hers with a calm that belied the turmoil inside me. Then I stepped back and left the room, leaving her to her thoughts, to the quiet that weighed so heavily around her.
Avery's POV
I sank back into the chair, hands trembling. Don't wait for me… The words replayed endlessly in my mind, echoing like a drumbeat I could not escape. My chest ached, my body still sore from the intensity of last night, my heart heavy from the weight of his absence.
I thought of every detail from yesterday—the quiet intensity of his gaze, the firm strength in his hands, the controlled passion that had left its subtle marks on my skin. I longed for him, ached for him, yet he had left me alone in the quiet, the tension, and the yearning.
I whispered his name again, softly, almost like a plea. "Axel…"
The city outside continued its oblivious hum, lights twinkling, streets bustling. Inside, the suite felt frozen in time, every second stretching endlessly. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to find some measure of comfort in the silence, knowing that this tension—the longing, the quiet frustration, the slow burn between us—was only the beginning. A beginning that would test our patience, our hearts, and the intensity of the emotions we both struggled to contain