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He’s been my savior, my protector in the midst of chaos.
His rough hands have soothed my pain, his words have caressed my heart, and his eyes have whispered reassurance in my darkest moments.
So, where does all of this leave me?
Can the softer moments outweigh the nightmares?
Is it possible for a bond that was born amidst turbulence to somehow morph into something resembling normal, healthy love?
As I held Jade’s gaze, a realization dawned upon me.
Regardless of the tempests we’ve weathered, beyond all reason, there’s an undeniable part of me that loves him – both the darkness and the light.
“I do,” I whispered, my eyes shuttering closed, a single tear tracing its path down my cheek as I clung tighter to the pillow. “I love him.”
“But?”
“But I'm terrified. Terrified that if I let go and fall into his arms, it’s like handing over the reins of my life – the good, the bad, and the downright ugly – as if all our problems would be swept under the rug. I’m haunted by the fear that this might be a fleeting chapter, that he could outgrow me, come to the conclusion that he’s better off with the kind of women he’s used to.”
I paused, inhaling deeply to steady my quivering voice, a soft sob escaping my lips. “And the truth is, I’m scared of being loved. To have someone look at me, genuinely love everything they see, to value me, appreciate me – it’s petrifying. I’m haunted by the thought that he’ll peel away the layers and discover that I’m not as wonderful as he thinks. But my biggest fear, Jade, is becoming addicted to his love, and then having it taken away, shattering everything.”
As the words hung in the air, I let out a shaky breath, as if releasing the weight of my worries to the universe.
Jade rose from her armchair and crossed the room to the couch.
She settled herself behind me and then, with a gentle sigh, she spooned me, holding me close.
“It’s alright to feel scared,” her voice was a soft whisper in my ear. “Love doesn’t erase our fears; it helps us confront them, step by step. And you, my dear, are far stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
I took a soft breath and then asked, “Have you ever been in love?”
“Yes.”
“What was it like?”
“It was like a slow-motion heartbreak. He never loved me in return, but he took everything I had to give until I would’ve given him my life,” she let out a bitter chuckle. “But my situation was different. Volk loves you, and he loved you enough to let you go because he wanted your happiness. In my case, I was just used over and over again and then tossed aside like a dirty sock.”
Hearing her words, I felt a pang of sadness.
“I’m sorry you went through that,” I said gently. “You deserved so much more.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “You deserve all the happiness too. Don’t let fear stop you from embracing it.”
The apartment’s doorbell rang, abruptly interrupting our conversation.
We got up from the couch simultaneously.
Jade stepped to the door, her bare feet moving her forward, long hair swaying. She was in a casual outfit for once – white linen shorts hugging her curves and a white sports bra showcasing her cleavage.
As she opened the door, we were met with an unexpected sight: Mikhaïl and Angelo.
Jade’s eyes widened in surprise, and my heart skipped a beat.
Mikhaïl’s eyes found mine instantly, and he gave me a gentle smile that warmed my heart.
“Hello, Miss Whitenhouse,” Angelo said, his eyes scanning Jade from head to toe, his jaw ticking slightly.
He glanced at me briefly before turning his attention back to her.
