55. Chapter 50 #3
“Oh, I see. This is jealousy, isn’t it?” She raised an eyebrow, amusement coloring her voice, but there was something else beneath it—something raw. “Because Rafael… what? Because he’s nice to me? Because he doesn’t treat me like some puzzle he wants to solve but never has the patience to finish?”
Ouch.
Her words cut deeper than he wanted to admit.
Bas pulled his lips into a thin smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Maybe.” He left the answer hanging for a moment before adding, “Or maybe I’m just wondering why you share things with him.”
Her eyes softened for a brief second, and for a moment, he thought he saw a crack in her walls.
“Maybe,” she said quietly, “because you never ask what I want.” She took a step back, her voice turning sharper. “You just decide. You make choices for me. Or maybe—because you left me waiting on our first Valentine’s Day.”
The truth in her words hit him like a punch to the gut.
His hands slipped out of his pockets, falling to his sides, and for a moment, he looked down, exhaling.
I never meant to hurt her.
"Maybe you're right," he finally admitted, his voice quiet but firm. "Maybe I'm the kind of guy who… just acts." His gaze returned to her, searching for hers without forcing it.
"Evin..."
"Sebastian."
"Do you want me to give you more space?"
The surprise flickered across her face, even as she tried to hide it. Her lips parted as if to sa y something, but she closed them again. Finally, she gave a small shake of her head, her shoulders dropping slightly.
"More space? What are you going to do, leave the country?" she asked, her gaze burning into his skin.
For a moment, she wanted to fire off another sharp remark, but she held herself back, inhaled deeply, and exhaled before speaking again—this time, with raw honesty.
"No, I don’t want more space! I just want you to… be here. Don't make decisions for me, just... be here."
Bas nodded slowly, letting her words settle in. They felt heavier than they sounded, yet they gave him something to hold onto—some kind of direction.
"Okay," he finally said.
A single word that meant everything and nothing at the same time. He still didn’t know how to do that when she kept pushing him away, but now wasn’t the time for that discussion.
As they walked along the pier, side by side, without another word, the distance between them felt smaller. The cool breeze played with her hair, and though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, something had shifted. It wasn’t a victory, not a clear step forward.
But it was something—a beginning, maybe.
__________
Evin
P arked outside her house, Evin couldn’t bring herself to get out. Milka had been occupied with Bellamy, leaving her and Bas alone with the unspoken tension between them. The steady hum of the engine cut through the silence, a constan t reminder of everything left unsaid.
She watched Bas. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw clenched—a telltale sign of his inner struggle. Finally, he broke the silence.
"There are places beyond this darkness," he said, his voice steady but quiet. "Places that don’t feel like a prison, but like an escape."
Evin’s pulse quickened. His words struck something deep inside her. She had felt trapped in her own mind since that night. But for a fleeting moment, she almost believed he might be right.
"Maybe we just haven’t found the right way out yet," he continued, his tone softer now. "But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist."
Evin turned to look at him, their eyes locking. In his gaze, she saw a flicker of hope, of understanding—something that made her heart race.
He smiled, barely noticeable, but enough to send a shiver down her spine.
"Maybe I can help you find it," he said seriously. "And if I can’t…" He hesitated. "Then I’ll stay here. Until you can see it for yourself. If you let me."
His words washed over her like a warm wave—carrying both comfort and vulnerability. Relief tangled with the familiar ache in her chest, as Milka’s voice echoed in her mind: If you want him to do something, sometimes you have to show him.
Her hands trembled slightly, but she refused to pull away from the moment. Instead, she reached for her seatbelt, unfastening it with a sudden, impulsive movement.
"Evin—" Bas started, his voice tense, but she silenced him by turning toward him, her eyes burning with resolve.
She didn’t hesitate. She leaned in and kissed him.
His breath hitched, and for a moment, the kiss was hesitant—unsure.
Her fingers clutched the hem of his hoodie like she needed to hold onto something solid. Her other hand slid into his hair, soft but desperate. God, I missed you.
Bas hesitated only for a second before his hand came up, barely grazing her cheek before he cupped it gently. His touch was reverent, cautious—like he was afraid of shattering something fragile.
But it wasn’t uncertainty. It was something else. Recognition.
His thumb brushed over her skin, while his other hand rested lightly on her waist.
Slowly, she pulled away, letting her forehead rest against his, her eyes still closed as she tried to catch her breath.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt like she could breathe.
"Wow," Bas murmured eventually, a lopsided smile playing on his lips. The sharpness in his eyes was gone, his tension had melted away.
Evin mirrored his grin, a teasing glint in her gaze, as the moment lingered between them.
"Do you want to listen to music?" Bas asked after a pause, breaking the silence.
Evin let out a quiet laugh, her voice still raspy from the kiss. "Music?"
"That’s all you have to say?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, smirking.
"Better than the things running through my head right now."
She leaned back in her seat, a mischievous smile curling on her lips. "Fine. But if you play ‘Hotel California,’ I’m getting out."
Bas chuckled and reached for his phone. "Don’t worry. I have something else in mind. Something that fits you better."
Evin raised a curious eyebrow. "Oh? And what exactly fits me?"
He hesitated, h is gaze flickering between her and the screen. "This song… it says everything I can’t." His voice was lower now, almost hesitant. "It’s not about me wanting to fix you…"
His words caught her off guard. Her chest tightened, and tears stung her eyes. Unsure whether to laugh or cry, she looked at Bas as the first notes of the song played.
Fix You.
A choked sound escaped her, all the suppressed emotions finally breaking free.
Bas noticed immediately, and without hesitation, he gently pulled her toward him.
She didn’t resist. She moved over the center console until she found herself in his lap, her head resting against his chest. She curled into the soft fabric of his hoodie, letting the tears fall freely.
He just held her.
His arms wrapped around her—not restraining, just grounding her. His hand moved in slow, steady circles across her back, his grip gentle but unwavering.
After a while, he finally spoke, his voice deep and quiet. "You know," he murmured, "I’m so glad I’m here with you."
She didn’t say anything, but she felt his steady breath against her hair, a silent reassurance that she wasn’t alone.
"I got you, Evin," he whispered. And she knew he meant it.
The music filled the silence—not as a barrier, but as a shared breath between them.
When Bas finally turned off the engine, Evin realized something.
She didn’t have to carry this weight alone anymore.
Not with him by her side.