Chapter 25 Break Up With Her #2
Hearing the desperation in his voice hurt.
It hurt far more than she wanted to admit.
But no matter how much it hurt, she couldn't forget the cruel words he had thrown at her the night before. The humiliation, the distrust, the complete lack of respect—those wounds were still fresh, still bleeding.
They were enough to stop her from turning around.
Behind her, Cassian's breathing grew increasingly ragged and unstable. Every harsh inhale and uneven exhale echoed through the darkened room. His broad shoulders were taut, his entire body radiating frustration, helplessness, and desperation.
Yet Juliet still refused to look at him.
The rejection finally snapped the last thread of restraint he had left.
In the next second, the mattress dipped sharply beneath his weight.
Cassian climbed onto the bed, his expression dark and tormented. Reaching out, he grabbed her shoulder and forcefully turned her over to face him.
Before Juliet could even react, he leaned over her, caging her beneath his body, one hand braced beside her head as he lowered himself and tried to kiss her once again.
Juliet turned her face away, refusing to let him kiss her, and the rejection hit Cassian like a spark thrown into fire.
His breathing grew heavier as he leaned in once more, more forceful this time, but she immediately pressed both hands against his chest, pushing him back with firm resistance that stopped him cold.
“Let go of me,” she snapped, her voice sharp as she held her ground, refusing to let him close the distance again.
Cassian’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening as anger and frustration rolled across his face, mixing with something deeper and more raw as he tried to hold himself together. But Juliet didn’t flinch, didn’t soften, didn’t give him even a moment of hesitation.
“Get off me,” she said again, colder this time, shoving him with enough strength that his balance finally gave way.
He stumbled back and fell onto the bed, the impact silencing the room instantly.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
The air between them felt heavy, almost suffocating, as Cassian stayed where he had fallen, staring at her with a tense, unreadable expression while his chest rose and fell unevenly, every breath controlled with visible effort.
Then, without a word, he pushed himself up, his movements sharp and rigid, and stormed out of the room, the force of the door shutting behind him echoing through the entire house.
Hours passed without relief. Cassian remained restless, unable to calm the storm inside him, his anger refusing to settle no matter how far he walked or how long he stayed away.
It only made everything worse, twisting into frustration that lingered in his chest until late at night when he finally returned.
The room was dark and quiet when he stepped inside.
Juliet was still on the bed, her back turned toward him exactly as before, unmoving even when his footsteps filled the space.
Cassian paused near the doorway for a brief moment, his gaze locking onto her still figure, and something in him shifted as the sight of her sleeping there softened the sharp edges of his anger without fully erasing them.
“Juliet,” he called out, his voice lower now, rough with exhaustion and restraint.
There was no response.
He walked closer, circling the bed slowly, then lowered himself beside her, his eyes tracing her face as she lay there unmoving.
His hand lifted almost instinctively, brushing her hair back from her face in a motion that was far gentler than anything he had shown earlier, his fingers lingering as though grounding himself in the moment.
“Juliet, answer me,” he said again, softer this time, but the unease beneath his voice deepened when she still didn’t respond.
A shift came over him immediately. His body went rigid as he leaned closer, his hand moving to her shoulder as he shook her slightly, the worry breaking through the frustration he had been carrying all night.
“Juliet,” he called again, louder now.
But she didn’t wake.
Panic struck him so fast it stole the air from his lungs. He turned her carefully, and the moment he saw her face, everything inside him tightened painfully as realization hit—she wasn’t just sleeping.
She was unconscious.
Cassian cupped her face at once, his hand freezing slightly at the heat radiating from her skin. His expression changed instantly as he realized that she was burning up, her body far too hot, her breathing faint and uneven.
“Juliet…” His voice broke slightly this time, fear slipping through the control he had left.
She still didn’t respond. He immediately slid one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her shoulders, starting to lift her into his arms with urgent care.
And just as he straightened, Juliet let out a weak, broken whimper in her sleep.
“Vincent…”
Cassian froze the moment Vincent’s name slipped past her lips.
Even in sleep, Juliet looked unsettled, her brows drawn tightly together, lashes damp against flushed skin as if she were caught inside something no one else could see. Her lips trembled faintly.
“Vincent…” she whispered again, softer this time, almost lost in her breath.
Cassian’s jaw locked so hard it ached. A muscle ticked near his cheek as he stood over her, completely still, the only movement in him the slow tightening of his fists at his sides.
Something sharp and hot twisted through his chest—jealousy, anger, disbelief—coiling tighter with every syllable she uttered.
“Even like this…” he muttered under his breath, voice low and rough, eyes fixed on her fevered face. “You’re still calling his name.”
Juliet’s fingers shifted weakly against the sheets, her breathing uneven, fragile.
And then her voice changed.
“Cassian… don’t…”
Her lashes fluttered faintly, her expression softening for a fleeting second. “Leave… please…”
The words hit him so suddenly his breath stalled. She wanted him gone?
For a moment, everything inside him stalled—anger, jealousy, even that suffocating heat in his chest. His gaze sharpened, searching her face.
She slipped again into distress, her body trembling harder, her lips parting as if she were caught between two worlds. The fever seemed to spike all at once—her skin turning warmer, her breathing turning shallow and uneven. Heat radiated off her skin, her expression twisting.
Then her eyes snapped open.
Glassy. Unfocused. Panicked.
Before Cassian could react, she turned sharply away from him and lurched off the bed.
“Juliet—” His voice broke as he moved at once.