Chapter 19
Naomi
“You Only Come To Me When You’re Breaking”
Here I was again, laid up with Ares, me face down, ass up at six in the morning. We had been fucking all night, and it was good, but I knew Ares was fucking the shit out of me because he was irritated, lonely, sexually frustrated, and confused.
Ares only came to me like this when something heavy sat on his chest. And somehow, I always ended up being the place he landed when life started closing in on him.
I had tried pushing him away. God knew I tried.
But watching him unravel made me feel bad for him, and that was my weakness. Ares never asked for sympathy. He just existed so heavily that you felt it anyway.
I had my own life now. A man I was trying to do right by. A future that didn’t involve being somebody’s secret comfort.
And yet here I was.
Ares rolled me onto my back after he nutted, eyes locked on mine.
“I always liked how you never tap out on me,” he murmured.
His voice was softer than usual, less cocky, less dangerous.
That’s how I knew something was wrong, and he didn’t know how to tell me.
I whispered, “Why are you going to Marseille?”
He exhaled a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Family shit.”
“That doesn’t sound like just family shit, and you’ve been acting weird all night.”
He shook his head, then finally said it.
“They picked her.”
I frowned. “Picked who?”
He stared up at the ceiling for a second like he was trying to organize his thoughts.
“The woman I’m supposed to marry.”
“So you finally know who it is?”
He nodded, and then he said words I wasn’t expecting.
“She’s… fucked up.”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
He sat up, rubbing his hands over his face.
“She’s my best friend’s sister. I ain’t seen her in years. The family kept a lot of things quiet. Turns out she’s been out here struggling. Drugs. Streets. Whole life sideways.”
I sat up with the sheet clutched to my chest.
“Really?”
He nodded again, frowning.
“They handed me a problem and called it tradition.”
The little he had told me was a lot, and carried weight.
This wasn’t Ares bragging about power or playing games. This was a man realizing something bigger than him had already been decided.
“She knows who you are?” I asked.
He laughed dryly. “She barely knows herself right now.”
Silence filled the room.
I watched him carefully, and he looked soul-tired.
He turned back toward me, eyes dark.
“You’re the only person I can tell this to.”
He leaned in, forehead touching mine again, and for a moment neither of us said anything.
He kissed me, slow and heavy, like he was trying to forget the world outside this room.
“You gonna be okay?” I asked softly.
He smirked, but it didn’t feel real. “I don’t have a choice.”
I sat up.
He stood, pulled on sweatpants, and headed toward the bathroom.
I followed him out of habit.
Steam filled the glass walls as we showered quietly, the kind of silence that felt more intimate than conversation.
Finally, I said it.
“I know you are going through something, but… We can’t keep doing this.”
He laughed low. “Doing what?”
“This sneaking around. I got a life outside of you now.”
“You’re right,” he said quietly.
That was it.
No fight. No argument. Just acceptance.
And somehow that hurt worse, but I still stayed in that room with him, proving I was lying to myself.
After we got dressed, I curled up back in bed while he worked at the table, laptop open, coffee beside him. Like nothing had happened.
Eventually, exhaustion won, and I drifted off.
When I woke up, he was gone.
Breakfast waited for me, warm under a silver cover.
And a note.
My stomach dropped when I saw my name in his handwriting.
I didn’t wanna read it.
But I did.
Naomi,
I know you want distance.
I know you want your new life without me.
I’m trying to let go of everything that used to belong to me.
You’re the only part that still feels real.
I’m not asking you to wait for me.
I’m not asking you to betray your life for mine.
I’m just telling you the truth.
Everything around me is changing, and I don’t know where I fit in it yet.
You’ve always understood me without me having to explain myself. That’s rare.
I won’t chase you if you walk away.
But I won’t pretend I don’t feel the difference when you’re gone either.
Thank you for last night.
Thank you for seeing me.
— Ares
I folded the letter slowly.
My throat burned.
My chest ached.
This man knew exactly how to keep a piece of me without ever asking for it outright.
And that was the problem.
That had always been the problem.