Chapter 13 Hektor #3
His shoulders slumped as he walked away, the weight of her eyes—the hurt, the confusion, the unspoken disappointment—pressing down on him like stone. Her whispered no followed him, echoing in his chest, making each step feel heavier than the last.
The thought of facing her, of explaining what he couldn’t yet name, made him hesitate. His legs carried him almost instinctively to a quiet park, one of the few places he could think clearly or at least try to.
The bench creaked softly as he sat, elbows on his knees, fingers lacing together. The sounds of the city were distant, muffled, but he could still hear the occasional laughter of someone walking by, the rustle of leaves in the breeze.
I love you. His mind replayed her face, her voice, that trembling edge of vulnerability that had cut through him.
The words she’d spoken, so full of certainty and raw feeling, felt like a mirror reflecting everything he hadn’t dared to admit. He wanted to tell her, to wrap her in his arms and erase the doubt, but the fear of saying it wrong, of shattering something fragile, kept his mouth sealed.
Hektor leaned back on the bench, staring up at the darkening sky.
He couldn’t escape the pull she had on him, couldn’t ignore the way the beat of his heart seemed tethered to her.
And yet, the longer he sat there, the more he realized that staying away might be the only way to protect both of them until he could find the words.
Inside, he felt like he was being pulled in opposite directions, instincts clashing with one another.
Seeing Eleonora hadn’t stirred longing or regret.
What it stirred was irritation. Not at her, exactly, but at the reminder of a life that had once been planned for him.
A version of himself that had moved along tracks laid down by tradition, expectation, inevitability.
When he hadn’t been able to do what was expected of him, those tracks had vanished beneath his feet, leaving him lost and directionless.
The confusion had hardened over time, turning into bitterness, then anger, until it felt easier to carry that weight than to admit how badly it had broken him.
Until this moment made it clear how little he’d explained to Zara.
That was the knot in his chest now. Not Eleonora. Zara.
Why couldn’t he just say the words? Why did I love you feel like some impossible, dangerous confession, when his whole body screamed it?
Zara had slipped into his life and flipped it on its head. She hadn’t just been a distraction or a passing fascination; she had become the center, the pulse he didn’t even know he’d been missing. Eleonora, the past, any of that…it didn’t matter. None of it held a candle to Zara.
He thought of her laugh, the way her eyes sparkled when she was teasing him, the way she trusted him without hesitation, the warmth she brought into his life. She had claimed his mind, his home, his heart, and she didn’t even know it.
Going between thoughts, worries, the what-ifs—it was exhausting. And yet, amid all that chaos, one truth stood taller than anything else: Zara was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
She wasn’t just a part of his life. She balanced him. She softened the edges he didn’t know were rough, pushed him without breaking him, and challenged him in ways he didn’t know he needed.
This ridiculous, torturous hesitation had to end. He couldn’t let fear, old habits, pride, or uncertainty hold him back from saying what had been screaming inside him from the moment she walked into his life.
He stood, shoulders squared, and took a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill his lungs. He had to go back. He had to tell her, he had to. Because if he didn’t, the thought of her hurt, alone, questioning him, would haunt him far worse than any words could.
No more waiting. No more thinking. It was time.
He rushed home and through the front door. “Zara?”
Silence answered him. Not even the faint hum of her music or the rustle of her presence anywhere in the house. He darted to the bedroom first, throwing open the door. Her side of the bed was empty, the blankets undisturbed. Panic prickled at his chest.
“Zara?” His voice cracked slightly, tighter this time.
He swung open the closet, scanning for any sign of her. Her jackets, her bags, her shoes, gone. His heart dropped further.
The garage was next. He practically ran down the steps, adrenaline pushing him faster than his own thoughts. The car he had parked earlier was missing, leaving an empty space that made his chest tighten.
She was gone.
He knew, logically, where she was heading—Alindale. She’d needed space. She’d gone off on her own. But knowing it didn’t stop the sick twist of panic crawling up his spine. The thought of her driving alone, unsettled, reliving the fight in her mind, twisted his chest with pain.
Hektor grabbed the keys for the SUV from the hook by the door without another thought, his mind set, his heart hammering. She was out there, and he wasn’t going to wait another second.
His hands tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles white, as the roads blurred past him. She was gone, just like that, and he hadn’t even realized how close he’d been to losing control over everything that mattered.
Thoughts of her filled the car, sharp and vivid. Like the way she’d melt against him in those quiet moments, they all hit him like a punch in the chest. He hadn’t expected to feel like this. He hadn’t expected her to consume his thoughts, heartbeat, his very being.
He went over their fight, over her hurt expression, over the words she’d said that cut straight through him.
You lied to me. You didn’t tell me about Eleonora.
The memory made his stomach twist. He’d tried to act casual, tried to deflect, but he hadn’t prepared for the way her eyes could hold him accountable.
Why couldn’t I just tell her? The excuses and fears that had kept him silent now felt meaningless. The risk of sounding vulnerable, of giving her all of himself, seemed suddenly small, even foolish.
The thought of her hurt, of her thinking he didn’t feel what he felt, burned like fire through him. And he realized that she had changed everything. His life, his thoughts, the way he saw the world. She had filled the emptiness around him with her presence.
The further he drove, the more the fear of losing her propelled him forward. I can’t let her get away, he thought, a cold certainty settling in his chest. If he didn’t get to her now, if he didn’t say what needed to be said, he might lose her completely.
Every light, turn, and passing car was measured against the image of her in his mind.
The anxiety of being a few hours behind gnawed at him, but the sight of his car finally appearing outside her apartment made his chest lift with relief.
She was here. She was safe. And he wasn’t going to waste another second.
Hektor’s steps were heavy as he walked toward her building, the early morning air biting at his skin.
His mind was a tangle of thoughts, what he should say, how he should say it, but none of that mattered as much as the one truth pressing down on him: he needed to see her.
Each step brought dread and determination, a quiet tension building in his chest. He had no plan, no rehearsed words, only the certainty that standing outside her door until he saw her would feel better than sitting at home, letting the distance grow.
All he knew was that he couldn’t turn back, not now, not when the thought of leaving without her made his chest tighten painfully.
His knuckles still tingled from the firm knocks he’d delivered on the apartment door. When Liora finally opened the door, her brow furrowed and arms crossed, the scowl on her face barely contained her irritation.
“What do you want?” she asked sharply, her voice a low growl.
Hektor opened his mouth, ready to explain, but before he could say a word, Elian appeared behind her, giving a quick, “Liora, leave us,” with a hand on her shoulder. She stepped back, muttering under her breath.
Hektor’s eyes searched the doorway for Zara, hoping she’d appear any second. “I need to talk to Zara.”
“She’s not here,” Elian replied calmly.
“I saw my car,” Hektor pressed. “She has to be here.”
Elian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I like you, Hektor, so I’m going to tell you straight. Zara went home.”
Hektor blinked, stunned. “Home…the Upperworld?”
“Yes,” Elian said patiently. “Santa Fe.”
The words hit him harder than he expected. Hektor took a step back, the air seeming thinner now, his mind racing. “Santa Fe? She… she didn’t tell me she was leaving.”
“She just wanted to get back home for a while,” Elian said gently. “She’s fine, but she needs space.”
Hektor’s chest tightened, and he ran a hand down his face, trying to force his thoughts into order. “I…I should have known,” he muttered, frustration and worry coiling together. “I should have asked.”
“You’ll get your chance,” Elian said quietly. “She’ll come back when she’s ready, and she’ll know you’re waiting.”
He couldn’t just stand there; he couldn’t wait for fate to hand him a second chance. His chest tightened as he imagined Zara, maybe pacing, maybe thinking he’d let her slip away.
“We can all see it,” Elian said, hands tucked into his jacket pockets. “You and Zara. It works.”
Hektor shook his head immediately. “You’re her brother. Why are you saying that?”
Elian huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m her brother, which means I notice things other people miss.” His gaze sharpened. “And I know you, at least enough to know you don’t look at others the way you look at her.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m good for her,” Hektor said, the words coming out rougher than he intended.
“It means you’re trying. And that already puts you ahead of most.”
“She deserves more than…whatever this is.”
Elian studied him for a beat, then nodded. “Maybe. But what she deserves more is someone who doesn’t lie to her. Someone who doesn’t run when it gets real.”
Hektor swallowed, his chest tightening. Elian clapped a hand on his shoulder, not unkindly.
“I’m not asking you to promise forever,” Elian said. “I’m asking you not to break her by pretending this doesn’t matter.”
“I…I don’t know what to say,” Hektor admitted.
Elian’s eyes softened, but his expression stayed firm. “You don’t have to know, bro. You just have to go. Show up. That’s all she needs right now.”
Hektor’s jaw clenched. He had spent hours overthinking, turning countless scenarios over in his mind, and yet here it was: the simplest solution, and the hardest thing to do.
It felt impossible. How could he get to her now? The distance, the timing, all of it seemed stacked against him. But he couldn’t just let it be. He clenched his fists, determination hardening in his chest.
“I’ll figure out a way,” he muttered to himself, his mind already racing through every option, every route, every chance he could take.
He couldn’t lose her, not like this.