The Thin Line Between Us
Cade
I pace my office, my hand running through my hair for what felt like the hundredth time. My eyes kept darting to the clock, and each passing second heavier than the last. Five minutes until Aviana’s session. Five minutes until I could find out if she was still willing to talk to me—or if I had completely messed everything up.
I wasn’t even sure she would show up but Nightshade promised he would bring her. I don’t know why she trusts him to stay in that cabin with her but I will find out who he is.
It has been days since the obstacle course incident. I have thought long and hard about what had happened and the guilt eats me alive every day and every night.
I won’t blame her if she is angry with me. I can’t blame her, really.
I want it to be just the two of us to talk this through but the only way Nightshade would bring her to this session was if he got to sit in on it. I cringed about the idea but I agreed to it otherwise I would not get to see Aviana.
I hated this feeling.
It was hard not to worry, especially when it came to her. She reminded me so much of Izabella.
Izabella was the kind of woman who could light up a room with a simple smile, though it never quite reached her eyes. She had dark, almost midnight-black hair that fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and her skin was pale, almost ethereal, in contrast to her fiery spirit when she was well. Her laugh was infectious, and she had a way of making everything feel lighter, like nothing could touch her. But behind that facade, there was a quiet sadness that I could see in the way she held herself—always a little guarded, a little distant.
She was strong in a way that I admired. She fought every day to overcome the things that haunted her, but the scars left from her assault—those things never really went away. No matter how much therapy she did, no matter how many pills she took, the nightmares still came. They were relentless. The anguish never eased. It followed her like a shadow, whispering to her in the dead of night.
I remember the first time she opened up to me about the assault. She spoke so quietly, as if the words themselves might break her. I could see the pain in her eyes, the weight of it all, and I wanted to help, wanted to make it go away for her. But no matter what I did, no matter how many times I held her in the dark when the memories came flooding back, it wasn’t enough. She still found herself sinking deeper into a place I couldn’t reach.
She started taking more pills—prescribed, of course—but they never seemed to make a dent in the darkness. She was drowning in it, no matter how much she tried to fight it. And one day, when the weight became too much, when the nightmares finally tore her apart, she ended her life. It was the last thing I expected, though in hindsight, I could see the signs—the slow withdrawal, the quiet resignation in her eyes.
I’ll never forget that day. The emptiness that followed her absence was a void that couldn’t be filled. And the guilt? It’s something I’ll never shake. It’s a shadow of its own, one that’s with me every moment, because I wasn’t enough to save her.
I sank into the chair behind my desk, elbows propped on my desk, head bowed. The weight of Izabella’s memory pressed on my chest, but it was Aviana who filled my mind now. Her face—so vivid, so alive—haunted me in a way that Izabella’s memory never had. Izabella was my failure. But Aviana ?
I glanced at the clock. Time was slipping away, until a soft knock came at the door. I jumped and hurried to open it, finding Cynthia there.
“Dr. Brenner, your 10:00 is here.”
“Thank you, Cynthia. Bring them in,” I said, trying to mask my excitement.
The door swings open, and Aviana steps inside. My breath catches as I take in the man following close behind her. The same man from the obstacle course. The one who moved like a shadow, always watching, always near.
Nightshade.
But this time, he wasn’t hidden. He stood in plain sight, his presence heavier than ever.
“Avi,” I greeted, though my voice felt stiff.
“That’s Aviana,” he corrected, his tone low and possessive.
Tension filled the room.
“Have a seat,” I said, motioning to the couch. He sat first, relaxed yet intentional, and she followed, sitting close—too close.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Tired,” she admitted. “And in some pain, but the bruising will heal.”
“It could’ve been worse,” he cut in, his gaze sharp with accusation.
I exhaled. “We should address that before moving forward. But first, I’d like a proper introduction—calling you Nightshade seems out of place.”
Aviana turned to him, searching his face, then looked back at me. “Dr. Brenner, this is Ryan.”
The name hit me like a freight train. Ryan Fraizer. Her foster brother. The name I’d seen on the registration list when I was tracking Nightshade.
I extended my hand. He glanced at Aviana, then finally took it. His grip was iron, sending a clear message: I’m not letting go of her.
Aviana brushed her fingers against his knee, subtly. I released his hand and refocused.
“Aviana, the reason you’re still exhausted is because your body went through trauma—”
“You don’t say,” Ryan interrupted, mocking.
I force myself to continue, keeping my voice even. “Your body went through trauma, and because of that, it triggered what’s called a PTSD coma, disrupting your natural sleep patterns. With the right training, you’ll be back to normal in no time.”
Ryan lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Is there really ever a normal , doc?”
I clenched my jaw. “Ryan, if you’re staying, I need you to remain quiet.”
“Your bruising will heal,” I continued, forcing neutrality. Aviana shifted, her voice soft.
“About that day at the obstacle course…”
Ryan stiffens beside her, his grip on her hand tightening just slightly—just enough for me to catch. His entire demeanor sharpens, his body going rigid, like he already knows where this conversation is headed and he’s daring me to say the wrong thing.
I swallow, a heavy feeling settling in my chest.
I know what’s coming. I’ve been dreading it.
I failed her that day.
And worse than that—I know Ryan won’t let me forget it.
“You didn’t catch me.”
Her voice is quiet, but the words hit like a punch to the gut.
I exhale, slow and measured, nodding once. “I know.”
“I trusted you,” she said, her voice edged with hurt. “And you let me fall.”
Ryan shifts beside her, his posture tightening like a coiled spring, but for once, he stays quiet.
I hold her gaze, the weight of her words settling into my bones. “I should have caught you.”
“You could have.” Ryan scoffs. His tone is sharp, biting.
I close my eyes for a second, just a second, because I can feel my control slipping.
Ryan being here is bad enough. Ryan speaking is worse.
“Ryan,” Aviana warns softly, but she doesn’t pull away from him. She doesn’t shut him down. And that’s what really makes my blood run hot.
Her lips pressed together, and I can see the battle playing out in her mind. The war between logic and emotion. Between wanting to hold on and wanting to let go.
“You broke my trust.”
I nod, jaw tight. “I know.” I have no defense. Because she’s right. Because nothing I say can take back the look on her face right now.
Ryan lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”
The room goes silent, thick with tension that’s impossible to ignore. I can feel Ryan’s glare boring into me, but I don’t look away from Aviana.
Then, she does something that makes my breath catch.
She exhales slowly, like she’s warring with herself, and when she speaks, it’s hesitant. Soft.
“I want to forgive you.”
Ryan tensed. “Little Bird—”
She didn’t look at him. “I don’t understand why, but I do.”
“I don’t expect you to,” I said. “But if you let me, I’ll earn it back.”
She looked away. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Then I’ll wait.”
Ryan lets out a sharp breath, shaking his head. His grip on her hand never loosens. “She doesn’t owe you anything.” And with that he drags her out of the room but Aviana does something that makes the room feel like it is held together by nothing but the thinnest thread.
She pulls her hand away from Ryan’s, slowly, deliberately, and turns her eyes to me.
“I want to stay,” she said firmly.
Ryan’s jaw clenched. “Little Bird— ”
She raised her hand, stopping him. “I need to talk to him.”
Ryan glared, then muttered, “Fine.” He grabbed her hand, yanked her to him, and kissed her—possessive and rough.
I can’t tear my eyes away, even though every part of me is screaming to look away. But I don’t. I watch as they break apart, his hand still gripping hers tightly, holding her in place, like he’s unwilling to let her slip away—like he’s marking her in a way that says, she’s mine.
When they broke apart, he glared at me. “Don’t make me regret this,” he threatened, slamming the door behind him.
Silence stretched between us.
“Dr. Brenner—”
“Aviana—” we spoke at the same time. I swallowed hard.
“I need you to understand something, Avi,” I said. “This… you being my patient and me feeling… this… it’s wrong. But I can’t ignore it. I care about you. More than I should.”
She flinched, looking down.
“I know you don’t feel the same way,” I say, my voice already thick with emotion. “You won’t. But there’s this … pull, this connection that I can’t just ignore. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do. I want you to choose the right path, Avi. I want you to be safe, to heal, to be happy and not get tangled in something that can only hurt you in the end.
She flinches at my words, her eyes drop to the floor for a brief minute. I know then she is thinking of Ryan. Of only him.
“You’re better than this. You deserve better than . . . him.” The words come out sharper than intended, and I immediately regret them. I can’t stop now. “But I also know that you are going to choose him. You are going to choose what’s easy, what’s familiar, what you think you want, even if it’s not the right choice. Even if it’s not good for you.”
She stepped back, her expression hardening.
“You don’t know what it’s like,” she whispered. “To feel unwanted by everyone except the one person you least expect. To always feel like you’re making the wrong choice.”
I wanted to apologize, but stopped. She was right .
“I just . . . I care about you, Avi. More than I should. More than I ever should.”
“I have to go,” she whispers, stepping away from me slowly, her hand brushing the door handle, “I. . . I need to think.”
And with that, she’s gone, leaving me alone in the room with all the things I never should have said. All the feelings I never should have let surface.
I watch through the window as Ryan takes her hand in his and starts to drag her towards the cabins. He glances back and shoots me a look that should scare me. I will get more information on Ryan Fraizer especially now that I know what his brother Liam did to Avi.