Love And Betrayal | ✔️

40. Break my heart in two

You can break my heart in two
But when it heals, it beats for you
I know it's forward, but it's true
Won't lie, I'd go back to you.

-Selena Gomez (Back to you)

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ADEN'S MOTHER GREETS me at the door.

My stomach twists into knots as I remember the last time we met. I had lied to her face, pretended to be sick only to drag her traitorous daughter down the stairs and out of the house moments later. She should hate me. Has every reason to.

Yet, she doesn't.

Her kind face breaks into a smile as she invites me in. "Aden's upstairs. He won't admit it, but he's waiting for you."

I follow her. With each stair I climb, the butterflies in my stomach seem to multiply. The smallest movement threatens to bring the contents in my stomach back up.

Up the stairs, down the hall, I draw closer to his room. His scent grows stronger with every step I take.

Grasping the sides of my jacket, I force myself to calm down.

"Aden is good man. You have nothing to be afraid of." Luna Diana tells me softly, as she knocks at his door. "Remember to breathe."

There's a brief pause as my heart thuds against my chest. Then—

"Come in."

I step in. The door closes after me with a click.

The room is dark. Gloomy and cold— like I remembered. Aden's silhouette is perched at the windowsill, slumping forwards as he listlessly overlooks the snow covered lawn. Hair ruffled. Shirt creased as if he slept in it.

At the sound of my footsteps, his stiffens.

"What do you want?" His voice is rough, devoid of emotion as he faces away from me. It's impossible fathom what he really feels. Dark and brooding—so unlike him.

My wolf stirs, sensing the tension.

I bite my lip, suddenly at a loss of words. "Aden."

He doesn't answer. But the way, he inclined his head slightly at the sound of his name, shows he's listening.

Even when I open my mouth, no words come out.

Tension hangs thickly in the air.

Finally, he sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. "What do you want, Kiara?"

"At least look at me." I hate the way I sound right now—so small, so insecure. "Or am I too late?"

This time, he turns. His dark grey eyes meet mine.

I see his soul reflected in his eyes. He swallows as he struggles to keep his cool. Hope flares, deep inside of me as I realize he mirrors what I feel. He's as nervous as I am.

A single nod. "You're too late."

A sad, broken expression on his face—like a veteran who after all these years, finally lost his will to battle, like there's nothing that gives him life anymore. The pain in his eyes is heartbreaking.