Chapter 19
The week crawls by in fragments.
Sleep doesn’t come easily. When it does, it’s broken. Sebastian’s face keeps flashing through my mind. His voice. His smirk. The way he said my name like it still belonged to him. I keep telling myself it doesn’t matter. That he can’t touch me anymore. That his betrayal is just part of who he is.
At work, I bury myself in numbers and schedules, anything that keeps my hands busy. Knox doesn’t mention what happened with Sebastian.
But I can feel the shift between us again. The distance that wasn’t there before. He’s back behind walls I can’t reach.
By Friday night, the weight of it presses too hard. The office is dark when I leave, the city glowing below like a thousand tiny promises. I walk without direction, past restaurants, past shops, past the same bar I swore I’d never enter again.
The sign hums in neon blue. The Velvet Room. My old life stares at me from behind tinted glass.
I stop in front of it, the memory hitting like a wave. The smell of alcohol. The sting of regret. The blur that used to make everything quiet.
My hands shake. I need to walk away. I should.
Instead, I push the door open. The sound of laughter and music crashes into me. The place looks exactly the same. Dim lights. Polished wood.
My replacement looks up, a smile flashing across his face. “Didn’t think I’d see you here again.”
“Neither did I,” I say. My voice sounds too calm.
He nods toward the bottles lined on the back wall. “What’ll it be?”
I stare at them. Amber. Clear. Gold. A hundred ways to forget.
My fingers twitch on the counter. One drink. That’s all it would take. One sip to quiet everything.
Then I hear a voice behind me.
“Don’t.”
I freeze.
Knox. He’s standing at the entrance, his eyes are locked on me, cold and sharp and full of something I can’t name.
I swallow. “How did you find me?”
“You left your tablet on your desk. I tracked your phone when you didn’t answer.”
“I’m fine.”
He steps closer, voice low. “No, you’re not.”
“Why do you care?”
“Because I’ve been exactly where you’re standing.”
I turn to face him fully. “And what did you do?”
He exhales, the sound rough. “I walked away.”
I laugh softly, but it breaks halfway out. “You make it sound easy.”
“It wasn’t.”
His eyes soften, but his voice stays steady. “You think this place will fix you for a night, but it won’t. It will only take from you again.”
The bartender clears his throat. “You two know each other?”
Knox doesn’t look away from me. “She’s with me.”
Something in the way he says it silences the entire room.
He extends his hand. “Come on.”
I stare at it for a long moment. My chest feels tight. My throat burns.
Finally, I reach for him. His fingers close around mine, firm and warm, pulling me away from the bar. We step into the street again, the air cold and damp. He doesn’t let go until we’re standing under the awning of a closed café across the street.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. Shaming for not being strong enough eating me up from the inside.
“Don’t be.”
“I almost—”
“But you didn’t.”
He studies me for a long time. “You can’t keep fighting this alone.”
“I don’t know how to do anything else.”
His voice lowers. “Then let me help you.”
“I’m not your responsibility.”
“No,” he says quietly. “You’re my choice.”
The words break something open inside me. My eyes sting, but I don’t cry. I can’t. Instead, I step closer until I can feel the heat of him. “Why do you keep saving me? If at the end of the day, you don’t want me.”
He reaches up, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Because no one saved me when I needed it and I do want you. I just can’t have you when every time he walks into your life you want to break.”
The space between us disappears. His forehead touches mine, his breath warm in the cold air. For a moment, I forget everything else. The noise. The fear. The past.
It’s just us.
He’s right. How could I have anything good if all I do is break every time Sebastian shows up.
He doesn’t kiss me, and I think that’s what hurts most. He just holds me there, steady and silent, like he’s trying to convince me I’m still real.
When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Let’s get you home.”
I nod, too tired to argue, too scared to refuse. And for the first time, I let someone walk beside me instead of ahead.