Seraphina #2
My chest rose sharply, another sob catching behind my ribs.
"I should've gone outside sooner."
Elias didn't move toward me, not this time. The detective returned before the man did. He needed facts before feelings.
"What did you see?" he asked quietly.
"When you looked toward the trees."
I closed my eyes.
The clearing rebuilt itself behind my eyelids, the wind, the well the fog.
"A man."
"Tall?"
"I... I don't know."
My voice shook.
"He was already running."
"Build?"
"Broad... maybe."
"What was he wearing?"
"Dark clothes."
I swallowed.
"Heavy clothes. Like... like the men who work at the timber yard."
His expression never changed.
"Anything else. A vehicle. A weapon. A face?"
I squeezed my eyes tighter until they burned.
"The fog..." I whispered.
"It came down off the ridge, and it swallowed him. I couldn't see his face."
"I couldn't..."
A tear escaped despite my efforts.
"I couldn't remember enough."
"You remembered plenty."
His voice softened.
"You did good."
"I didn't."
"You did."
The certainty in his answer left no room for argument.
Evening settled quietly over Blackridge.
The last of the sunlight slipped through the windows, turning the old river-stone fireplace amber while long shadows stretched across the wooden floor. Beside me, Max snored softly. One ear twitched. His paws kicked once against the blanket as though he were chasing something through a dream.
I smiled. A real one.
"Goodnight, handsome."
My fingers disappeared into the thick fur behind his ears.
"You've earned every cookie in my kitchen."
Another sleepy sigh escaped him.
"I'll bake you the chocolate-chip ones tomorrow, well dog friendly once."
His tail gave one lazy thump.
I climbed to my feet. Every joint complained after the day's panic.
"I should probably let you both rest."
Elias stood almost immediately. He didn't stay by the couch; he walked me to the front door.
Neither of us spoke. The screen door creaked open.
Outside, the valley had disappeared beneath deep blue twilight.
Crickets filled the silence with their endless chorus while the smell of rain-soaked pine drifted through the cool evening air.
I stepped onto the porch. He stopped beside me. Close enough that I could hear him breathing. Close enough that, if I reached out, my fingers would brush the sleeve of his shirt.
I wanted to tell him everything. Thank you, I'm sorry that I'm glad Max is alive that I'm glad....you held me. Instead, the words tangled somewhere between my heart and my throat. So, we stood there. Two people separated by only a few inches and an entire lifetime.
"I'm sorry."
His voice was barely above the wind.
I looked up as he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes fixed somewhere beyond the trees.
"I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, especially on my porch...the cookies... I was cruel."
He let out a slow breath.
"I was angry. Walker. The case. The missing women. I brought all of it home."
His jaw tightened.
"And I unloaded it onto someone who didn't deserve it."
His eyes finally found mine.
"I'm sorry, Seraphina."
Something inside me gave way not because of the apology but because no one had ever apologised before, not really no one ever apologised to me and meant it. Before my mind could stop me, I stepped forward and rose onto my toes and rested my trembling hands against his chest.
And kissed him.
It wasn't planned, it wasn't dramatic, it was only meant to last a heartbeat, a quiet thank you and a silent I forgive you. The moment my lips touched his… I realised my mistake and I pulled back immediately.
"Oh..."
Heat rushed into my cheeks.
"I'm sorry."
"I shouldn't have-"
I never finished my sentence because suddenly his hands found my face. Large, warm and careful hands. As though he was holding something breakable or something precious. His forehead hovered only inches from mine while he searched my eyes for permission I hadn't realised I was giving. Then he…
He kissed me.
Everything disappeared, the crickets, the trees, the mountain and the whole valley dissolved into the warmth of his mouth and the steady strength of his hands.
He kissed me like a man who had spent weeks denying himself something he wanted more than air.
He kissed me like a man who was in a desert and saw water for the first time in weeks.
Not desperate, not rushed.
Simply...
All-consuming while feeling protected at the same time.
When he finally pulled away, he kept his forehead resting against mine. His breathing was uneven and his eyes stayed closed.
"Fuck. I'm sorry."
The words sounded broken.
"Elias?"
His hands slowly slipped from my face.
"I can't."
He stepped backward only one step, but it felt like miles.
"We can't do this."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because if I let myself..."
His voice cracked.
"I won't know how to stop."
Silence settled between us.
"I carry too much darkness home with me."
He looked away.
"You deserve someone who doesn't."
The tears returned before I could stop them. I nodded.
Sometimes loving someone means understanding the reason they're walking away. Even when it breaks you.
I turned and walked toward my cottage. I didn't look back.
People think broken hearts shatter all at once they don't. Sometimes they break so quietly that no one hears them, not even the person holding the pieces. Until one day...they discover they have shattered pieces from a wound they never felt being made.
And sometimes...
One heart attacks another so gently...
Neither of them realizes they're bleeding until it's already too late.