Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Alaric
It’s a door.
A fucking door.
How can something so ordinary, something everyone else seems to move through without thought, feel like a wall, a barrier that’s kept me caged for so long? My hand trembles as it hovers over the door handle as Jinx weaves between my legs, her green eyes peering up at me as if sensing the storm brewing inside me.
It’s not just fear. It’s a shame that crawls under my skin and settles deep in my chest, clawing at me every time I so much as glance at the door.
I’m humiliated about how I acted yesterday. Koen, Sylus, Ezra, and Levi were all there dressed to the nines in suits and masks. They looked like they belonged in that world as if they were born for it. And me? I felt like a fucking fraud just standing near them.
“Everything will be all right,” Koen says quietly, leaning against my doorway. “You don’t have to do anything, Ric. Just… be there. That’s enough.”
“Yeah, man,” Sylus adds, smirking at himself in the mirror as he adjusts his tie. “You don’t even have to talk to anyone. We’ll cover for you. Just think of it as standing in a fancy room with free food.”
Ezra stood farther back, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, studying me like he was trying to figure out the exact combination of words that would get me through that door. He settled for not saying anything, but the weight of his gaze was heavier than all the words Koen and Sylus threw my way.
I wanted to believe them. God, I wanted to believe it could be that easy.
I’d tried. I’d put on the damn suit, even wrestled with the mask until it sat snug on my face, suffocating me in more ways than one. I made it down the stairs, each step feeling like it was dragging me deeper into a pit.
Levi turned as I reached the bottom, his glittering suit almost blinding me. His grin was easy like this was all just another performance for him.
“You’re halfway there,” he tries to reassure me, his voice bright and full of misplaced confidence. “Just trust your wings, yeah?”
But I couldn’t.
The walls felt like they were closing in, the air thinning until every breath burned. My heart pounded so loud it drowned out everything else—Koen’s steady reassurances, Sylus’s teasing, even Levi’s grin.
My fingers slipped from the doorframe, and I turned away, retreating upstairs before anyone could say another word.
I couldn’t do it.
I didn’t even make it to the car.
So, I had to watch her dance through Sylus’s video call, my chest tight with envy and regret. I’d wanted to be there. For her. With her. But I wasn’t strong enough .
Never fucking strong enough.
It haunted me all night, the thoughts tangling into a knot I couldn’t unravel. Was I even worthy of being her friend if I couldn’t show up for her the way she might need? If every step forward felt like a betrayal of the girl I’d already failed?
Because thinking about Glitter this much feels like treachery. Like I’m leaving the memory of her behind, the girl whose laugh still echoes in the quieter corners of my mind, whose smile still haunts my every step. And yet, Glitter is impossible to ignore. She doesn’t just take up space in my head, she floods it, relentless and unapologetic, like she’s dared me to forget.
And maybe that’s the real betrayal. That part of me wants to let go of the past and grab hold of something or someone who makes me feel alive again. But how the hell do I reconcile that with the guilt that’s become second nature?
Now, I’m here again. Standing in front of the damn door. This time, though, I’m not just debating whether I deserve to be her friend. I’m wondering if I can ever be enough for anyone, even myself.
“What are you doing?” Koen’s voice startles me, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. I glance over my shoulder to find him standing in the hallway, his sharp gaze soft with concern. He steps closer, leaning against the wall, giving me space but making it clear he’s not leaving.
I swallow hard. “I… I want to go outside.”
Koen’s eyebrows lift slightly, and he nods as if he’s been waiting for this. “But you can’t,” he finishes for me.
“No.” My voice cracks, and I grip the door handle tighter as though sheer force will anchor me.
He doesn’t push, doesn’t press. Instead, he folds his arms across his chest. “Breathe, Ric. Just breathe in through your nose. Count to four. Hold it. Then out.”
I follow his instructions, shaky at first, but the steady rhythm of his voice helps. The air doesn’t feel quite as thin anymore.
“Better?” he asks after a moment.
“Not really.” I force out a bitter laugh, but there’s no edge to it. Just exhaustion.
Koen steps closer, close enough that I can feel his presence at my side. “Open the door. Just a little. You don’t have to go through it. Just open it.”
My fingers tighten on the handle, the cold metal biting into my palm as if daring me to let go. Slowly, I twist it, and the door creaks open, an inch at first, and my breath hitches as warm sunlight spills through the crack, pooling on the floor like molten gold.
“See?” Koen says softly with a tone that grounds me even as my anxiety claws at my chest. “Nothing’s happening. It’s just a door.”
But it’s not just a door. It’s a threshold, a line I haven’t crossed in what feels like forever.
Jinx weaves between my legs, brushing her fur against my calves as if she knows exactly how close I am to falling apart. She looks up at me, then pads forward, settling herself just in the sliver of sunlight now creeping across the threshold. Her tail flicks once, lazily, before she stretches out and closes her eyes.
I huff a quiet laugh. “Traitor,” I mutter, but my hand loosens slightly on the door handle. If she can sit there like it’s no big deal, maybe I can do this.
The sunlight stretches farther as I nudge the door open another inch, then another. The air changes, no longer stagnant and heavy like inside but fresh, carrying with it the faint scent of warmth. It’s just air and sunlight. But to me, it feels like standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down into a void.
“You’re doing good.” Koen doesn’t push, doesn’t rush. He’s just there.
My hand trembles as I pull the door a bit wider. It’s open enough now that I can see the driveway, the edges of the mansion’s path bathed in light. My panic rises, but I grip the handle harder, willing myself to hold on.
The sunlight is foreign, too bright, too open. It’s as though stepping outside would strip away my last layer of protection, leaving me raw and vulnerable.
And then Koen moves.
He steps forward, crossing the threshold like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The sunlight catches the edges of his hair, making it glint like gold as he turns back to me, his expression patient. “Your turn.”
I want to, but it’s as if my feet are glued to the floor, my body waging a war between the instinct to retreat and the desperate desire to follow him.
“You don’t have to go far,” Koen adds, his voice coaxing. “Just one step. That’s all. Just enough to feel it.”
My heart hammers against my ribs, the fear screaming at me to slam the door shut and run back upstairs. But there’s something in Koen’s gaze, in the quiet confidence he radiates, that keeps me rooted in place.
I take a shaky breath and force my foot forward. The moment my shoe hits the sunlight, warmth floods over me, and I freeze, my body locking up like I’ve just stepped onto a live wire.
“Good.” Koen praises. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”
I suck in a breath, then another, trying to steady the whirlwind inside me. The sunlight doesn’t hurt. The open air doesn’t swallow me whole. It’s just warmth. Just light .
I look up at Koen standing just a step ahead of me. “You’re doing it.”
I don’t know what compels me to take another step, but I do. My foot crosses fully into the light, and then the other follows. I’m standing outside. Not far, but enough to feel the breeze on my face.
“Just sit with it.” Koen steps aside, giving me space but staying close enough that I can feel his presence. “Feel it. You’re not in danger. Nothing bad is happening. It’s just you and the sunlight. The air. The sound of the birds.”
I close my eyes for a moment, letting his words sink in. The anxiety doesn’t disappear. It’s still there, coiled tight in my chest, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating. The warmth of the sun, the subtle scent of the outdoors, the distant chirping, they’re small, simple things, but they anchor me.
When I open my eyes, Koen is sitting on the porch steps, his posture relaxed as he watches me.
I hesitate, my body still trembling slightly, but after a long moment, I lower myself onto the step beside him and feel how warm the stone is under my palms. “You’re right,” I murmur, my voice hoarse. “Sitting with it… it helps.”
Koen nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If you want to confront this, you have to keep doing things that scare you. Sit with them long enough until you see they don’t hurt you.”
I glance down at Jinx, who’s now next to me and has rolled onto her side, soaking up the warmth like she’s completely at peace. My hand finds its way to her fur, stroking absently as my mind pulls me in two directions.
I missed this—the sun, the air, the world outside these walls. But at the same time, I dread it—the openness, the vulnerability. I’ve been locked away for so long it’s like the world out there has grown bigger and scarier, and I’ve grown smaller .
“I hate this,” I mutter, more to myself than Koen.
“I know,” he just states. “That’s why it matters.”
I keep petting Jinx, grounding myself in the softness of her fur and letting my thoughts spiral. I think about why I’m even trying. Why am I here instead of retreating back to the safety of my room like I did yesterday?
And I don’t have to think about it long. It’s because of her. She dared me to come out and play. And isn’t that what I did once before? For someone else?
Oscar flashes through my mind, his wide grin, the way he’d nudge me forward with that effortless confidence. He was the one who made me brave, who pulled me out of my comfort zone and showed me that the world wasn’t always something to fear.
And maybe it’s pathetic that I needed him for that. Maybe the Alaric I was before prison would laugh at what I’ve become. But was it really so bad, needing someone to show me how good life could be if I were brave enough to face it?
I swallow hard. “I want to be normal.”
Koen doesn’t say anything. He stays where he is, letting me have the space to figure out my next move.
Normal. What a ridiculous word. But I want it. I want to be able to walk through a door without feeling like my lungs are going to collapse. To go to a fucking ball. To sit in the sunlight and not feel like I’m being suffocated by my fear.
For her. Even if it’s wrong. Even if I shouldn’t need someone else as my reason to get over this.
But it’s not just her. It’s me too.
I can admit I’ve been through shit and not strong enough to do this on my own.
Not strong enough yet.
I think about how close I was before Oscar died. How I’d started to believe I could stand on my own, live on my terms. Then his death threw me right back to the place I started.
And now? Maybe she’s the catalyst this time. But I want to be able to do it for myself. To be strong enough not to need someone else to drag me out of the darkness.
“Koen,” I say after a long pause.
“Yeah?”
“I think…” I hesitate, the words sticking in my throat. “I think I need help. Real help. Someone who can handle this.” His brow furrows slightly, but there’s no judgment in his gaze, only concern. “I can’t keep putting this on you. Or Sylus.” Or her. I glance down at Jinx now purring softly under my hand. “Oscar wanted to be that person for me. He was okay with it. But I can’t ask that of you. It’s too much. And it’s not fair.”
“You’re not a burden, Ric. None of us see you that way.”
I force a bitter laugh. “Maybe not now. But if I keep leaning on you guys for every little thing? That’ll change. And I’m not willing to risk that.”
Koen tilts his head slightly, studying me. “So, what are you saying?”
I take a deep breath, the air feeling just a little easier now, the sunlight less overwhelming. “Will you help me find a therapist? Please? I’m over this. Over being scared. I don’t want to be stuck anymore.”
“Of course,” A slow smile spreads across Koen’s face. “We’ll find someone. Whatever you need, we’ll make it happen. I’ll find you the best there is. Fuck, I’m so damn proud of you.”
“Nothing to be proud about yet.”
“I disagree wholeheartedly.”
I look back at the open door, at the sunlight spilling across the hallway, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself entertain the idea of moving forward, of not being stuck.
Turning again, I imagine her standing before me in the sunlight, laughing at me, daring me again. Come out and play.
I will. Not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But I will. For her. For me. For whomever I’m still trying to become.