Chapter 20 Falla
FALLA
Four days.
Four days since Ressa thanked me for being a good partner like I was some hired help she'd dismissed after a job well done.
Four days since I walked out of her cabin with my chest feeling like someone had taken a blade to it.
Four days of existing in this hollow space where everything feels muted and wrong.
I'm not angry with her. Can't be, not when I understand exactly what happened.
She'd been through hell—months of captivity, torture, violations I can only imagine in my worst nightmares.
And I'd pushed her too far, too fast. Let her believe she was ready for intimacy when clearly she needed more time to heal.
I should have been more careful. Should have insisted we wait, no matter how much she said she wanted me.
The guilt sits heavy alongside the ache of missing her.
I reorganize the same shelf of supplies for the third time this morning, my hands needing something to do.
The healing house feels too quiet without her presence, without the possibility of her appearing for another check-in.
I've avoided leaving these walls since that morning.
No point in going out when the only person I want to see has made it clear she doesn't want to see me.
"Still moping?"
Kai's voice makes me turn. He's leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, that knowing look on his face that's been irritating me for days now.
"I'm working."
"You're hiding."
"I'm giving her space." I set down the bandage roll I've been holding. "Like she asked for."
"Right. Because that's working so well for both of you." He moves further into the room, his ice-blue eyes assessing. "You look like shit, by the way."
"Appreciate that."
"And according to Saela, Ressa looks worse."
My hands still. "She's not doing well?"
"Back to hiding in her cabin. Not eating properly. Saela says she looks like those first weeks again." He watches me absorb this information. "Real healthy space you're giving her."
The words hit harder than they should. I tell myself Ressa's healing isn't my responsibility anymore—she made that clear when she dismissed me. But the image of her spiraling again, alone in that cabin, makes something twist in my chest.
"What do you want me to do, Kai? She told me we were done. I'm respecting her wishes."
"Are you? Or are you just using her words as an excuse to avoid fighting for what you want?"
"That's not—" I bite off the protest, turning back to my shelves. "She panicked. Woke up next to an orc and couldn't handle what that meant. I'm not going to pressure her into something she's not ready for."
"Who said anything about pressure?" Ursik's voice joins the conversation. He appears in the doorway, looking far too cheerful for someone who's been listening to me be miserable for days. "You could just talk to her."
"She doesn't want to talk to me."
"Did she say that?" Kai asks. "Or are you assuming?"
I don't answer because I don't have a good response. Ressa thanked me and made it clear the week was over. The implication seemed obvious.
"Look." Ursik moves closer, his expression turning more serious. "You spent weeks being patient with her. Giving her space when she needed it. And that was good—she needed someone who wouldn't push. But maybe now she needs someone who won't give up."
"I'm not giving up. I'm giving her time to heal."
"Alone?" Kai's tone sharpens. "Because that worked so well before you started checking on her regularly."
The accuracy of that statement makes me flinch. Ressa had been deteriorating when I first started visiting. Had been locked in that cabin letting fear consume her until I'd pushed past her protests and made her start engaging with the world again.
And now she's right back there because I'm giving her exactly what she asked for.
"Fuck."
"There it is." Ursik grins. "Now you're catching on."
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." The admission comes out rough. "Show up and demand she talk to me? Force my presence on her when she's already scared?"
"Not force," Kai says. "Just... don't disappear. Don't let her spiral alone thinking you've given up on her."
"I haven't given up."
"Then prove it."
Before I can respond, Shae appears in the doorway, her warm green eyes taking in the scene. "Oh good, you're all here. Makes this easier."
"Shae." I straighten, some instinct telling me this visit isn't coincidental. "If Saela sent you to lecture me—"
"Actually, I came on my own." She moves into the healing house with that quiet authority she carries so naturally. "Though Saela did mention you've been hiding in here for four days straight."
"I'm working."
"You're moping." Her tone leaves no room for argument. "And it needs to stop."
"I'm giving Ressa space—"
"I know. That's the problem."
I blink at her. "What?"
Shae crosses her arms, her expression shifting into something that reminds me why even Bronn listens when she uses that tone. "You think you're being respectful by staying away. Giving her time to process what happened. But all you're actually doing is confirming her worst fears."
"Which are?"
"That she's too broken. That she panicked, pushed you away, and you haven't seemed to care about her since."
The words hit like a physical blow. "That's not—I never said—"
"You didn't have to say anything. You just disappeared." Shae's gaze turns knowing. "Ressa spent weeks learning to trust you. Learning that you'd show up consistently, that you wouldn't abandon her when things got hard. And then she had one panic attack and you vanished."
"She told me to leave—"
"And you did. Immediately. Without question.
" Shae moves closer, her voice gentling slightly.
"I understand why. You were trying to respect her boundaries.
But Falla, that female has been abandoned by everyone who was supposed to protect her.
Her settlement turned their backs when the Stonevein took her.
Her captors treated her like garbage. And now the one person who made her feel safe has given space to spiral alone because she freaked out when she thought you understood her better than that.
I know you are trying to do the right thing.
But you two have not done a good job figuring out what that is. "
Guilt knots in my stomach. "I thought she needed time."
"She does. But not away from you." Shae's hand finds my shoulder, warm and grounding. "The reason she started healing wasn't because you gave her space. It was because you showed up consistently and refused to let her hide. You made her feel safe by being present, not by staying away."
I think about those weeks of check-ins. How Ressa had protested at first, insisted she didn't need me there. And I'd shown up anyway because she clearly did need someone, even if she couldn't admit it.
Had kept showing up until she stopped protesting. Until she started expecting my presence. Until we'd built something I'd convinced myself was real.
Ressa started to come out of her shell with more time around me. Not space. When she panicked, I showed her I was right there. And everything that happened between us wasn't because I was healing her. It was because I was there for her.
I knew she was scared this whole time, but I thought it was of me. Of something I'd done. But maybe, I have been looking at it all wrong.
"She pushed me away because she was scared," I say slowly, understanding clicking into place. "Not because she wanted me gone."
"Exactly." Shae's expression turns sympathetic.
"And by leaving without a fight, you confirmed that her fear was justified.
That being vulnerable with you was a mistake.
That wanting you means abandonment when things get hard.
You showed her orcs weren't all violence and abuse, but she needs to know that she can be vulnerable and that's safe, too. "
Her words make my chest constrict. "I didn't mean to—"
"I know. But intent doesn't matter when the result is both of you miserable and alone." She squeezes my shoulder. "So stop giving her space to spiral and go talk to her."
"What if she doesn't want to see me?"
"Then you convince her otherwise." Shae's smile turns knowing. "You're good at that, remember? Convinced her to be your partner for the week when she was terrified of leaving her cabin. Convinced her she was safe with you through every panic attack. This is no different."
"This feels very different."
"Only because the stakes are higher." Her tone turns gentle. "But that's exactly why you can't give up. Ressa needs someone who'll fight for her even when she's pushing them away. Someone who won't abandon her the moment things get hard."
"I wasn't abandoning her—"
"I know. But she doesn't. Not when you disappeared for four days without a word."
The truth of that sits heavy in my chest. I'd been so focused on respecting her boundaries, on not pressuring her, that I'd forgotten the most important thing—Ressa needs consistency. Needs to know I'm not going anywhere even when she's scared.
"Where is she?"
Shae's smile widens. "Now you're asking the right questions."
The directions Shae gives me lead away from Ressa's cabin, toward the eastern edge of the settlement where there’s the small clearing I led Ressa to during her first panic attack. I don't understand why she'd be out here instead of hiding in her home, but Shae had been certain.
"Trust me," she'd said. "Just go."
So I go, my boots crunching through the grass as afternoon sunlight filters through the branches. The air carries that particular scent of early spring—wet earth and new growth and possibility.
The clearing appears ahead, and I slow, not quite believing what I'm seeing.
Rainbow light dances across the space in overlapping arcs. Dozens of them, created by carefully positioned crystals catching sunlight and reflecting it through hanging water droplets. The effect is stunning—like walking into a living aurora of color.