Chapter 5
STASSI
The ride out of Athens is suffocating. Theo doesn't say a word, just drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting close enough to brush my thigh if he wanted to. He doesn't, but I feel the promise of it anyway.
The tension between us builds with every passing mile. I stare out the window, counting olive trees, ruined stone walls, clouds, anything to keep from looking at him.
But I can feel his gaze flick toward me more than once. I know he's trying to figure out if I'm a bomb about to detonate or just another regret he'll have to bury.
I've been sneaking my glances, too. It's almost annoying that he looks good. Better than I remember, in fact. Like he hasn't aged. His eyes seem more blue, his face sharper and more defined. His black hair styled just like I remembered.
I feel impatience bubble up inside me, the silence choking me. I can't just not say anything the entire trip, but something tells me he knew that.
"I'm sorry," I finally say, my voice cutting through the thick silence.
"For what, exactly?" His tone sounding almost sarcastic. "For ghosting me? For crawling back when you need something? For lying to me now? Or for thinking I'd still give a damn?"
"I haven't lied."
"Lies of omission are still lies."
"That's rich coming from you."
His head snaps toward me, eyes flashing, before returning to the road. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"Nothing." I turn toward the window. "Nothing at all."
"Years of silence and the first thing you do is throw accusations." He shakes his head. "Typical."
"I'm not the only one with secrets, Theo."
"The difference is I never abandoned you without explanation."
His words land like a slap. He's right, but it doesn't make this easier. Especially on this same damn drive we used to take, talking about everything and nothing. Now it feels like I'm walking through a minefield.
"Well, I was talking about your dad. I heard he—"
"Yeah, well I don't need anything from you. You weren't around so let's just leave this topic alone."
"Okay," I say about as hollow as one can.
We fall into silence again, but it's different now. The way he looks at me when he thinks I don't notice makes my skin burn. It's the same look he used to give me before—
No. I won't let myself go there.
"How have you been?" I ask lamely, desperate to change the direction of my thoughts.
He laughs. "Seriously? Small talk now?"
"I'm trying."
"Lucky me. And here I thought you forgot I existed."
"I never forgot you." The admission slips out before I can stop it.
His eyes flick to me, holding something unreadable in them. "Could've fooled me."
We slip back into silence, but Theo's restlessness grows. His fingers drum against the steering wheel, his jaw works back and forth. I know these signs—the way pressure builds inside him before eruption.
"I'm sorry," I say again, because what else can I say?
"Stop apologizing unless you mean it."
"I do mean it."
"Then prove it. Tell me why you're here. Tell me who's after you."
I shake my head. "I can't."
"Then your apology means nothing."
I look forward out onto the open road. I knew this would be hard, but not this hard.
I've foolishly convinced myself over the years that I was in the right.
That Theo wouldn't—I can't say notice I was gone—but that he'd get over it pretty quickly and move on.
I feel like an idiot for thinking the time we spent together was more cherished by me than him.
I can say with confidence it fucking sucks to learn about something when it's too late. When the moment's gone.
"Are you in immediate danger?" he finally asks me, his voice neutral now. Detached.
I consider lying, then decide against it. "I don't think so. Not yet. But I will be."
"Who's looking for you?"
I shake my head.
His frustration radiates off him in waves. "Can you stop being so cryptic? I need more information if you want me to help you. So, what can you tell me?"
"That I wouldn't be here if I had any other choice. That I feel like I've spent years running. That I'm not even sure who I am sometimes. That I'm—" My voice breaks embarrassingly. "I'm tired, Theo."
The naked honesty in my voice surprises even me. For a moment, his expression softens, and I catch a glimpse of the man I used to know. The one who would hold me through nightmares and kiss my forehead when I was stressed.
But it vanishes as quickly as it appeared.
"Get some rest," he says. "We still have two hours to go."
I lean my head against the window, closing my eyes. Sleep won't come, not with him inches away, but I can at least pretend. Maybe if he thinks I'm sleeping, he'll stop looking at me like I've ripped his heart out all over again.
Maybe he'll stop looking at me like he still wants me, despite everything. Maybe I'll stop wanting him to. It's a complication neither of us can afford.
Sleep, Stassi. Just sleep.
When I open my eyes again, we're turning onto the familiar tree-lined drive leading to the Kastaris summer estate. The Mediterranean villa rises from the hillside like something from a dream. White walls and terracotta tile roof against the backdrop of olive groves and sea.
My heart twists painfully. The last time I was here, I was happier than I'd ever been in my life.
Theo parks in front of the main entrance. For a moment, neither of us moves.
"We're here," he says unnecessarily.
I nod, staring at the house. "It looks the same."
"On the outside." He gets out without elaborating, and I follow, noticing how tense his broad shoulders are.
Inside is exactly as I remember. Cool marble floors, high ceilings, and windows that frame the sea like living paintings.
"You can take the spare room down the—"
"I remember where it is," I cut him off, unable to bear hearing him direct me to the room I once used as a pretense when his family visited, before sneaking to his bed each night. "I just need to rest. It's been a long trip here, and I'm jet-lagged."
He looks at me with something unreadable in his eyes.
For a heartbeat, the world stills.
Then he nods, short and sharp. "Fine."
He gestures for a housekeeper hovering nearby.
"Elena will get you anything you need," he says, his voice colder now. Distant.
I nod stiffly. "Thank you."
He watches me for a few seconds, like he's waiting for me to say something else, something that would make any of this make sense.
But I don't have the words. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
"We'll talk after you've rested. I expect answers then, Stassi. Real ones. Or this arrangement ends," he says.
I nod.
Theo hesitates for a moment like he's going to something else, but in the end, he just turns and walks away, disappearing into the shadows of the house.
I stand there, feeling like a ghost.
Out of place.
Unwanted.
Exactly as I deserve.
Elena shows me to the spare room in the east wing. I remember her, but if she remembers me, she's either not showing it or carries some of the resentment Theo does. Either way, I don't bring it up.
I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the carved wooden dresser, the heavy drapes, the faint outline of the doorway down the hall where Theo's room is—or used to be, anyhow.
I shouldn't be here. I never should have come back.
But I had no choice.
I still don't.
I glance down at my shaking hands and clench them into fists.
I'll survive this. I have to.
But as the walls close in and memories rise like floodwaters, I realize survival might come at a price I'm not ready to pay.
Not when it means facing the man I never really stopped loving.
And not when it means letting him see all the ways I'm broken.
I get up and close the door and finally let the tears fall.