"The past doesn't return
because it wants revenge.
It returns
because it was never finished."

Nathan's POV

I was no longer Luna's favorite human.

A tragic development, truly.

That honorary title—once held by yours truly—had now been reassigned to my beautiful princess.

Under normal circumstances, I would've been deeply offended by such betrayal, possibly even vengeful, but unfortunately for my pride, the new owner of that title happened to be my Aylin.

Which meant I completely understood.

I leaned against the doorway, arms folded loosely across my chest, observing the very obvious treason unfolding before my eyes.

Luna was fast asleep, not just asleep. The little traitor is dead to the world, stretched comfortably across Aylin's lap like she had finally discovered the meaning of life, and apparently that meaning was...Aylin.

My princess sat on the couch, slightly slouched, one leg tucked beneath her, the other hanging lazily over the edge of the cushion. Her fingers glided slowly through Luna's fur in gentle, repetitive strokes.

At first, she had been hesitant, but the longer Luna stayed there without attempting murder, the more comfortable Aylin became.

Now her fingers moved absentmindedly, scratching behind Luna's ear, tracing slow circles along her neck. The cat purred and practically melted under her touch, the complete opposite of how the little devil had bitten my ankle the moment we stepped into the house.

Aylin's lips twitched slightly the longer she gazed down at the tiny beast, her expression soft, almost surprised by her own affection. Then she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Luna's furry head.

Hmm, that was new.

For the record, never in my life had I wished to be a cat, until now. Lucky little demon.

I tried to relax at the sight of her smile, because she'd been...strange lately, even by our already questionable standards.

Ever since her session with Natalie and then her visit to her father, something had shifted. Something inside her had started moving again, like the gears in her head had begun turning after years of being rusted shut.

She had grown quieter, too thoughtful.

Her mind had been wandering somewhere dark lately, I could feel it, digging through old graves in her memory, and every time she returned from one of those silent trips, she looked a little different.

A little further away.

It made something ugly twist inside my chest. It made me...nervous? Well, here we go, another new emotion my dear princess had successfully introduced into my life. Just lovely.

I had survived fire, betrayal, abuse, attempted murder, and several years of questionable life decisions without ever experiencing something as inconvenient as nervousness.

But my princess? She had apparently decided to expand my emotional vocabulary, how very generous of her.

My gaze stayed on her as she continued stroking Luna's head, completely unaware that the tiny demon had replaced me as her chosen human.

I was still debating whether I should reclaim my rightful throne or simply throw the traitor out of the house when movement caught my attention from the other side of the room.

My eyes landed on Christian as he paused by the other entryway, his gaze falling on Aylin. He seemed to hesitate for a long second. He looked behind him, as if searching for me, then back at her.

After a moment, he made his choice and started toward her. My jaw ticked as memory replayed the way he had spoken to her earlier, the way he'd nearly earned himself a very permanent vacation from breathing.

My fingers flexed against my folded arms, imagining how satisfying it would feel to cross the room and drive my fist directly into his skull, possibly twice.

Three times even, if I was feeling generous.

Before I could fully commit to that excellent idea, Christian reached the couch and sat down beside her, "Hey," He said.

Aylin startled slightly, her legs dropped from beneath her, sliding down from the couch as she straightened, her posture suddenly alert.

"Hey," she whispered, her wary eyes flicking toward him, and I almost moved, almost ended this interaction before it even began, but a darker, more entertaining part of my brain whispered something far more interesting.

Let him talk.

Because if he said one wrong thing this time...Well, I had been looking for a reason to permanently bruise his skull anyway.

Much to my surprise, though, he let out a low sigh and said, "Look, Aylin, I am sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said earlier," He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "I was just angry and all over the place."

My princess—being far too soft for this ugly world—shook her head immediately, "No, it's okay..."

He shook his head, "It's not," he said firmly. "I know you didn't hurt him on purpose or anything. It's just..." he huffed out a frustrated breath. "When the prick gets hurt, I kind of lose my ability to think like a rational human being."

Aylin's expression softened slightly at his words. Christian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Old memories tend to crawl out of their graves when that happens," he added quietly. "So really, I'm sorry. Usually, I'm the sane one between the two of us. I don't know what came over me."

Aylin shook her head, "Actually...if anything, it makes me so happy that he has someone who cares about him and his well-being the way you do."

Christian's eyebrow raised, "Me? I hate the fucker," He grumbled, ever so offended.

This fucking asshole.

Aylin chuckled softly, and even though it was just Christian, something inside me still simmered, something territorial and violent...something deeply offended by the fact that another man could make her chuckle or laugh or relax. I hated it. It should be just me.

"You two are just so silly, you both care about one another a lot, but won't admit it," Aylin said playfully, relaxing against the cushion, letting her guard down and trusting the fucker, "It won't make you less of a man if you cared for your best friend."

"Nathan? Cares about me?" Christian scoffed ever so mockingly, "Nathan cares about no one but himself..." His brows pulled closer, "and you, apparently."

Aylin frowned and shot him a look that was dangerously close to a glare.

My god, that little flash of her claws? Absolutely adorable.

"I don't agree with that," she said firmly, jumping in to defend me. "Nathan cares about more than himself."

I smiled slowly, loving that little protective tone of hers.

"Yeah," Christian said dryly. "You."

"No, not just me," Aylin shot back, "Don't talk about him like he is...emotionless, Nathan cares a lot, even though he doesn't show it like the rest of us do," She added, still very defensive.

I noticed the small twitch in her fingers, like she was two sarcastic comments away from scratching Christian's face off. This cute, tiny warrior was preparing for battle on my behalf.

I had half a mind to walk in and end their little conversation before Christian said something that forced me to rearrange his face, but unfortunately for my violent impulses...I was enjoying this far too much.

There was something deeply satisfying about watching Aylin get worked up on my behalf. I loved it when she showed me that I wasn't the only one completely gone for her, loved it even more when I realized I had crawled under her skin just as deeply.

That she'd bare her teeth for me.

That she'd fight the world for me, exactly the way I would for her.

"He cares about you a lot, and about Maria and little Nathan," She added, counting them as evidence, "He also cares about Natalie, Ronald, and Nikolas, even though he'd never say it out loud, but he does." She sighed and shook her head, "He cares about Lilly, too."

Christian watched her with a confused look, "We are talking about the same Nathan, right?"

Aylin's eyes narrowed immediately, the mockery in his tone clearly not sitting well with her. "You know what," she muttered, her voice sharpening slightly, "I am glad Lilly left you."

Well, that escalated beautifully.

Christian's lips twitched slightly. The bastard actually looked amused, this fucker. He chuckled and leaned back against the cushion, "You two make the perfect couple, don't you?" He commented.

"We do," Aylin answered, flashing him a proud look before turning her head, her hair flipping lightly over her shoulder as she returned her attention to Luna. God, I could just eat her up.

She sucked in a slow breath after, clearly trying to calm herself down after getting all worked up over me.

Her throat bobbed slightly before she looked back at him. "Sorry about the...uh...Lilly comment," she muttered. "But you triggered me, don't talk bad about him."

Christian's grin widened, and he shook his head, "It's okay," he said easily, like this entire exchange had somehow benefited him. "You and I actually have more in common than I thought."

What the—

Aylin's brows pulled closer, "How so?"

Christian shrugged, "Well, for starters, we're the exes that everyone doesn't like." He shot her a playful wink, which made my princess's skin flush a faint pink, "And, we both care about Nathan more than we should."

He stressed the word care deliberately. Wait till I have him to myself, I will fuck him up.

"So, I'm counting on you to control your family, because the next time something even remotely close to this happens..." He added, his tone roughening slightly now, "My reaction won't be so peaceful."

Aylin shook her head almost instantly, "I won't let them hurt him again," She said, ever so protectively.

Well, this was certainly an unexpected development.

Apparently, while I had been busy building my criminal reputation and generally making people's lives miserable...I had accidentally acquired my very own Nathan fan club.

And the president of that club was currently sitting on my couch, petting my cat, threatening people on my behalf.

Honestly, I couldn't have designed it better myself.

I pushed myself off the doorway before the two of them bonded any further or, god forbid, became friends or something equally disturbing.

I walked in, and Christian's eyes landed on me immediately, his expression shifting into a glare sharp enough to cut glass. I shot him one right back. Petty bastard. All I did was convince him I might be in danger.

It's not my fault the idiot panicked and flew across half the planet. I really needed to find him a girl, someone capable of distracting him from his unhealthy attachment to me.

Unfortunately, for reasons that continued to puzzle me, I had yet to come across a girl fitting for him.

Aylin's eyes flickered to me next, her face relaxing instantly, her lips twitching softly. I smiled back as I stepped between them and shoved Christian sideways.

"Move," I muttered.

Christian glared up at me.

"Go sit somewhere else," I grumbled, already positioning myself between him and Aylin like the civilized, emotionally stable man that I was.

I pretended he didn't exist and wrapped an arm around my princess's shoulders and pulled her closer to me.

She fit there perfectly.

I dropped a kiss on the top of her jasmine-scented hair and breathed her in slowly. God. Heaven, she was my heaven.

"I am leaving tonight, I—"

"Do I look like I care?" I interrupted without even glancing at him, which immediately earned me a smack to the back of my head. Why the fuck do they keep doing that?

I whipped my head toward him, glaring murder, but before I could return the favor, preferably with interest, Aylin leaned forward slightly and looked at him.

"Uh...actually," she said politely, "we're travelling to the UK in like two days. So maybe we'll see you then?"

My head snapped toward her.

Excuse me?

Wasn't she on my side like...two seconds ago?

I redirected my glare to her, but she simply gave me that innocent, confused look of hers.

"You are?" Christian asked, clearly confused.

I turned to him and nodded, "Oh yeah," I said, and that's when I realized I had been presented with an opportunity, and I was morally obligated to make Christian's life miserable with it.

"Do you want to know why?" I continued casually, "Of course you do. So, remember your ex-girlfriend? She and her new boyfriend invited us over," I continued, flashing him a bright smile. "We're having a lovely double date in Paris, so very romantic, I know."

It wasn't exactly like that, but details were flexible things. Back at the cabin, Aylin had mentioned Lilly had invited her to visit. Apparently, some other friend—Sarah, Sandra, whatever her name was—was going too.

Naturally, I invited myself over, as well.

"Then I'll take Aylin to England and show her around," I added, hoping the little trip overseas might help her loosen up and relax.

Christian shot me a thoroughly unfazed look at the way I had phrased all of that.

Then, to get his revenge, this petty fucker looked at Aylin, "Did you know that Nathan actually planned for your grandfather to catch him?" he asked conversationally.

My eyes snapped to him.

Oh, this was fucking war.

"The whole thing," Christian continued calmly. "From getting caught, to me calling you, to you saving him, and then him dragging you off to a..." His brows furrowed as he tried to remember. "A cabin, I guess, yeah...all of that was part of his fucked-up little master plan."

He smiled brightly, his gaze flickering between us, "So, have fun in Europe."

Then he turned and walked away.

My jaw ticked. "You insolent fucker, I am going to kill you!" I called after him, but he only flipped me off and left the room.

I slowly turned my head toward my princess. For reasons I refused to examine too closely, I felt slightly scared, which was ridiculous. I wasn't scared of anyone.

Her eyes were wide as she pushed herself out of my arms.

"Seriously, Nathan?" She shot out in bewilderment, rageful enough for Luna to wake up. She meowed in offended protest and hopped off the couch, wanting absolutely nothing to do with whatever chaos was about to unfold.

"What?" I said innocently. "I mean, technically speaking, I just made it easier for him to catch me."

Her stare sharpened.

"He wanted to catch me anyway, you know that, so if anything, I was doing him a favor. He's an old man, princess. I didn't want to tire him out by running after me. So I delivered myself directly to him, that's all."

The fire in her gaze grew brighter with every word. Fucking Christian...

"If anything, I deserve gratitude," I added, "God forbid the man had a heart attack chasing me through the streets."

"You manipulated me," She muttered, her eyes blazing.

"That's such an ugly word."

Her eyes narrowed, "You made me believe you were in danger, how could you do that?"

"I was in danger," I corrected.

"You arranged the entire situation!"

"Well, yes," I said reasonably. "But your grandfather's threats were still very real."

She groaned and dragged a hand down her face.

"I cannot believe you," she grumbled. "Every time I think you've done the worst possible thing...you somehow outdo yourself. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

She shot me a murderous look and pushed herself angrily to her feet.

Absolutely not.

My hand shot out and clasped around her arm before she could take two steps. I tugged her back with enough force that she lost balance and tumbled onto the cushion again with an offended little huff.

I used the moment to my advantage, leaning forward and caging her beneath me.

One hand braced beside her head. My knee pressed into the couch next to her thigh, effectively blocking any escape routes.

Her glare snapped up to meet mine, her cheeks flushed, eyes burning with that fierce spark that drove me completely insane.

"Move away," she shot out, shoving her palm hard against my chest.

"Nope."

She groaned loudly, "I hate you."

My hand moved, sliding up to wrap around the delicate column of her neck with just enough pressure to keep her right where I wanted her. Silky, warm skin beneath my fingers.

"Take that back," I said, the humor draining from my voice.

Her glare sharpened, "No, I hate you," She said it again, playing on my fucking nerves.

"Don't make me fuck that word out of you," I muttered darkly, "You know exactly how capable of that I am."

Her eyes flashed, "Touch me and I'll scream," she threatened, a furious little thing trapped beneath me.

I leaned a fraction closer, "You know that I love it when you scream, so go ahead."

Her eyes narrowed at me, that stubborn, defiant fire inside them only burned brighter the closer I leaned.

God, I liked my princess feral.

My thumb dragged slowly along the side of her throat where my hand still held her, feeling the quick rhythm of her pulse beneath my fingers.

Fast.

Alive.

Mine.

Then, she tilted my fucking world when she tipped her head up just enough, only as far as my grip allowed, until her lips brushed mine. For a second, my brain shut off completely.

Defenseless.

Ruined.

I gave in instantly, crushing my mouth against hers, certain she was finally surrendering, but since she was my fucking ruin, she used the moment to her advantage, and her teeth sank into my lower lip, so fucking hard, hard enough to draw blood out.

Pain exploded through my mouth, and I pulled back, wincing, "Fucking hell, princess," I grumbled, my lower lip throbbing as I watched a thin smear of my blood glisten on her mouth. Fuckkk.

That sight did something deeply wrong to my brain.

She glared up at me, completely unrepentant, "Move away from me, I said."

I tightened my grip on her neck, "Your aggressive side only turns me the fuck on, so go ahead, princess, show me your claws," I said, barely suppressing my groan as I crushed my lips against hers, kissing her brutally this time, swallowing whatever sharp retort she was about to throw at me.

Our mouths clashed, teeth scraping, breath stolen. My grip tightened as I angled her head exactly the way I pleased, taking what she had started and turning it into something far more dangerous.

Her teeth grazed my lip again.

I bit hers right back.

The metallic taste of blood spread between us.

God. She was going to kill me one day, and I was going to enjoy every fucking second of it.

Her hand moved to the side of my neck, sliding into my hair at the back of my head. Her fingers wrapped tightly around it, and she yanked at the strands, so fucking hard, harsher than usual, purposely inflicting pain.

I groaned into her mouth.

This wicked princess. It seemed I had finally infected her with my violence.

I kissed her deeper, rougher, ready to devour her whole. Her breath tangled with mine, the couch creaking slightly beneath us as she struggled beneath my hold, though the struggle had lost its sincerity somewhere along the way.

I didn't stop, didn't pause, didn't pull back. Fuck oxygen and air, I only needed her.

Her breath hitched when I dragged my mouth along her jaw, biting lightly just below her ear before whispering against her skin, "You started this," I muttered, huffing a quiet laugh. "But then again...this is what we always do, isn't it?"

Her chest rose sharply beneath me.

"I fuck something up," I continued, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, "you pull out your claws, we clash and crash, and then we spiral into the same beautiful disaster we always do."

Her nails dug into my scalp again, tugging harder like she wanted to rip me apart, "Only you trigger this violent reaction in me," she breathed out.

"Good," I murmured.

My mouth dragged down the line of her throat, not quite gentle. "I'd be deeply offended if someone else could make you this feral."

Her fingers tightened in my hair again, trying to yank my head back so she could glare up at me properly.

I helped her and edged back a fraction, my hand sliding from her throat to grab her chin, the side of her jaw, my thumb brushing against her lower lip.

God, she was beautiful like this, ethereal even.

"Get off me and stop kissing me," she grumbled again, still breathing a little unevenly. "Christian could walk back here any moment."

"Would give me a final reason to end him," I said, ever so unbothered.

She huffed loudly, and I didn't dare to look away from her. My gaze stayed locked on those blazing green eyes for a moment too long, something dark and certain settling in my chest.

"You'll marry me, right?"

She went completely still beneath me.

Her eyes widened slowly.

"What?" she whispered, like she hadn't heard me.

"You'll marry me?"

Her throat worked, and she tried to shove me away, kicking lightly at my leg. "Move back and let me go," she groaned.

I kept her caged, "You keep refusing to answer me, princess."

Her eyes snapped back to mine, frustration flaring again. "Maybe because you keep asking it like you're asking me to have lunch, for god's sake!" she snapped.

"Do you want me on one knee? I could do that," I said, "On two knees? Even better," I added as my thumb dragged slowly along her lip again. "A ring? I'll buy you every ring in the world if that's what it takes. You want me to burn half the planet down so no one else bothers you again? Also doable."

I tilted my head, studying her like she was the most complicated puzzle I'd ever decided to solve.

"I'll even try to behave like a normal human being," I added. "Though that one might be the hardest, I'll do it. Just tell me what it would take for you to say yes."

Her face flushed instantly, and she looked away, unable to meet my eyes. When she realized she had absolutely nowhere to escape to, she groaned and lifted both hands to cover her face.

"Stop asking me that," she mumbled behind her palms.

"Why?"

"Because..."

"Because?"

"We...we can't, our relationship is still new..."

"You do realize that next month it'll be a year since we met?"

Her hands slowly slid down her face, peeking at me with fearful eyes, as if I had asked her to kill me and not promise to spend the rest of her life with me.

"A year?" she whispered, stunned. I nodded...not that I was counting or anything.

"Still..." she said quickly, trying to recover, "we didn't start this correctly right away, so it's...not actually a year."

"It's still a year."

She gulped down. "People date for years before marrying," she argued weakly.

"People are boring."

"People are healthy, this..." She gestured between us both, "This is not."

"So?"

"Nathan, stop," She muttered in that whiny sound that usually gets me, but now, it didn't.

I gazed into her eyes, "I'll ask you something, and I want you to truthfully answer me," I said, my tone strangely calm even though she was evidently trying to run away from giving me my yes, "If you lie, I'll know it anyway, so don't even try."

I could feel her tensing up already, knowing exactly which direction I was going to take.

"When you were dating that fucker, if he'd asked you to marry him, even though you were together for only a year, per your words, would you have said yes?"

Her eyes widened instantly, "What the..." Her gaze sharpened, anger flashing across her face. "After everything we went through, I really thought the whole Chase topic was finally behind us," she snapped. "Why do you keep dragging it back?" 

"Just answer the question," I said quietly. "And I'll put it behind us."

"You can't ask me that!"

"Why not?"

"You just can't...you are doing that thing again, manipulating the situation so you'd come out as the right one."

"That's not an answer."

"Nathan—"

"Would you have said yes?"

Her nostrils flared, "I am not going to answer you."

For a moment, we just stared at each other.

Then I nodded slowly.

I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. "That's answer enough."

I backed away from her and got up to my feet, turning around and walking out of the room before my damned first instinct had the chance to take over. I had to fight it, because my first instinct was so very ugly.

This whole thing was fucking exhausting. Kudos to Nikolas for managing to fight his instincts for years. I'd barely lasted ten minutes.

You see, the problem was, I knew she felt things for me. I knew she cared. I knew she was just as addicted to me. I knew she no longer had feelings for prince fucking charming, but there was always that tiny, poisonous thought sitting in the back of my mind.

Would I ever be to her what he once was?

Fuck. Okay, no. We are not going down that road. Nope. Absolutely not.

Fight it.

Repress.

I dragged a slow breath in, then out, then in again.

Then I followed my second instinct, which was significantly less healthy but far more entertaining.

I pulled my phone out and typed a message.

Me: Are you in the mood for some drama?

Three dots appeared almost immediately.

Lilly: Always.

I smiled.

This Europe trip was going to be so much fun, indeed.

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

Aylin's POV

Nathan has a very special talent.

A truly impressive, almost supernatural ability to go from being the one completely at fault...to somehow making me feel guilty.

When I tell you that man is manipulative, I mean it with my entire chest.

After that little moment, he didn't get angry, didn't retaliate, didn't even start another argument.

Which was honestly worse, much worse. Instead, he was calm, cool, and suspiciously normal. He made me food, forced me to eat it, and made sure I took my meds. Then he prepared me a matcha latte, claiming I hadn't had my usual one that morning and that we couldn't ruin our rituals.

He played with Luna afterwards and overall acted as if nothing had happened.

It was deeply unsettling, because the thing about Nathan is...he doesn't let things go. He burns them, obsesses over them, turns them into psychological warfare.

But now? Now he was acting...fine.

He was scaring the crap out of me. First, he goes and charms my father. Now he's acting completely relaxed about a topic that drove him absolutely insane just a month ago.

What the hell was happening to him?

He was sitting on the couch, typing something on his phone. I found myself dropping down beside him, swallowing hard for some reason I couldn't explain.

I nudged him lightly with my elbow. "Are you mad at me?"

See? Told you, he is so damn manipulative. I feel like I should apologize for a crime I didn't even commit. I hate him. I hate him...I wish I could hate him. It would make all of this so much easier, wouldn't it?

Nathan's eyes flickered up from his phone. His brows pulled together slightly before he shook his head, "No."

He tossed the phone aside and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him, "Why would I be mad at you?"

I shrugged, "I didn't give you an answer to...you know what," I muttered, refusing to say the words out loud.

The whole marriage topic was still spinning my world sideways.

He had no right to just drop that on me like that.

"You didn't say no," he replied calmly. "So I'm hanging my hopes on that."

I studied his face carefully, trying to find the catch. Trying to figure out when he'd suddenly switch personalities and start a fight, but he didn't.

What was his angle?

"Can you give me...time?" I asked quietly, hoping it would soften the situation.

"Aylin, I wasn't asking you to run to a church and get married tonight." He said, "I was just checking if it's something you'd want in the future. Near future, far future, it doesn't matter."

His thumb brushed absently against my arm. "I just wanted to know if we're walking in the same direction or not."

I swallowed hard, "I know, it's just...everything is still all over the place, my relationship with my parents, with grandpa, with my health, and all these memories coming back, I...I need time, I need to gather my thoughts, to sort the mess in my head before I give you an answer to such a question. Can I have that?"

He nodded his head, "I'd wait decades for you, you can have all the time you want, princess."

Why was he being so mature?

My brows pulled together suspiciously. Then I lifted my hand and pinched his arm.

He blinked, startled. "What was that for?"

I squinted at him.

"Who are you," I muttered, "and where is my psycho boy? I want him back. He's the one I know how to deal with."

His eyebrow raised, "So you complain about me misbehaving all the time, and when I do actually behave, you want me to go back to my factory settings?"

I nodded, "Yeah, exactly."

"Want me to get myself kidnapped again?"

I shot him a glare, "I still haven't forgiven you for that."

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. He leaned closer, brushing a slow kiss against the side of my neck like he knew exactly what that did to my brain.

"Hmm," he murmured. "Then tell me, princess...what should I do to earn your forgiveness?"

I tilted my head back slightly and looked at him. His eyes were softer than usual. The amber in them catching the light, mixing with the green and gold. For once, they weren't sharp or calculating or full of some chaotic plan.

"Can I ask for a favor?" I mumbled.

He nodded instantly, "Anything."

"Can you...come somewhere with me?"

"Yeah, sure," He said, "Where?"

I hesitated, the thought that had been circling my mind since my session with Natalie finally forcing its way out.

"My grandfather's summer house," I said quietly. "I haven't been there since I was a kid, and since some memories started coming back...I keep thinking maybe something there will help me remember more." I lifted one shoulder in a weak shrug, "or at least understand something."

Nathan's brows pulled together slightly, the easy humor leaving his face. "Yeah, of course, let's go," he said.

I shook my head quickly. "Not now. It's like a five-hour drive from here. I meant maybe after we get back from the UK or something."

Nathan studied me for a moment. "Why not now?" he asked.

"Because it's late."

"You have tomorrow off, right?"

I nodded, "I have the whole week off."

"Okay then," He stood up like the decision had already been made. "Let's go."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He tilted his head slightly, like the answer was obvious. "Because you're clearly terrified of whatever you'll find there," he said, reading me like an open book. "And if we postpone it, you'll spend the entire week thinking about it and stressing, we can't have that."

He wasn't wrong...

I swallowed hard, that part of me that loved postponing the inevitable wavering for a second longer.

I nodded my head, giving in, "Okay, let's go."

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

The five-hour drive passed much faster than it should have, mainly because Nathan had a very irritating talent for knowing exactly how to pull me out of my head.

He didn't say it outright, didn't point it out like a normal person would. Nathan never did anything in a normal way. Instead, he just...adjusted the world around me.

He was hyperaware of my mood, of what made me tick, of what made me laugh, and Christian had the audacity to say Nathan cared about no one but himself.

Nathan might not let people in easily, but once he did...he cared with his whole terrifying soul.

Most of the drive, he kept talking about random things, half of which made absolutely no sense. The other half was his usual sarcastic observations about the world and how stupid most people were.

At some point, he put on the music I liked, right after insulting my taste in it.

He even bought me a ridiculous amount of snacks that I kept munching on the entire ride, trying to release my stress through food. My mom would've had a field day if she saw me now, in my baggy sweats, cozy socks, legs curled up on the seat, eating chips straight from the bag.

Yeah, she would've fainted on the spot.

Too bad I never fit into her perfect aristocratic image. I was always the smudge on her carefully polished world.

The thought didn't even sting anymore. Her opinion used to live in my head rent-free, judging everything I did. Now...I think that part of me had quietly died somewhere along the way.

Good riddance.

At one point, Nathan refused the chips I offered, so naturally, I forced two into his mouth anyway. I stole kisses from his cheek whenever I could and played with his hair, twisting the soft strands around my fingers. I loved his hair, how ridiculously soft it was, always falling into that perfectly imperfect mess.

He wasn't any better.

He kept touching me the entire time as well, my thigh, my hand, brushing my hair back, his fingers grazing my cheek, like he physically couldn't help himself.

I think I'd gotten so used to his insanity that it took me about five minutes to forgive him for orchestrating the whole thing with my grandfather kidnapping him. Nathan would always be Nathan. Crazy, possessive, completely unhinged, and somehow...mine.

It was already late when we arrived. Nathan parked the car in the gravel drive, then came around to open my door, offering his hand as I stepped out. His eyes immediately started drifting around the property in that calculating way of his, scanning the trees, the windows, the edges of the garden like he was silently checking that nothing was out of place.

"You have a key?" he asked.

I shook my head. "The groundskeeper stays in that little cottage," I said, pointing toward the small stone house near the edge of the garden. "He'll let us in."

The old man still remembered me when I knocked. His face softened the moment he saw me, and he asked how I'd been, how long it had been since my last visit. His voice carried that same quiet warmth I remembered from years ago.

Then he handed me the keys without questioning.

Nathan unlocked the door, and we stepped inside. He reached for the light switch, and a moment later, the house lit up around us.

The house smelled the same, I think. Wood, and a hint of the lemon polish the housekeeper used on the furniture.

My eyes drifted slowly around the space, trying to catch pieces of all the summers we had spent here, once upon a time.

I recalled running down this very hallway, my bare feet slapping against the floor while Grandpa chased after me, pretending he couldn't catch me even though he obviously could.

I recalled sitting on the kitchen counter while he made me waffles, swinging my legs while he told me stories about his life, and about grandma, too.

He used to add extra whipped cream to my plate when Mom wasn't looking. Then he'd dab a bit of it on the tip of my nose and laugh while I tried to wipe it off.

I remembered the swing he installed in the backyard after I told him once that I liked the one my friend had. The next day, there was a much bigger one waiting for me, because Grandpa always did things like that.

If I mentioned something once, it somehow appeared the next time I visited.

I recalled him letting me stay up late on the porch with him, wrapped in one of his warm blankets, while we counted stars.

I remembered him telling everyone that his granddaughter was the smartest and prettiest girl in the world.

Even when I spilled juice on his expensive carpets. Even when I broke one of his antique clocks while playing.

He never scolded me, never once.

To him, I had always been perfect, not broken, not abnormal. He used to say I was the only reason he kept going after Grandma passed away. The only thing that made the house feel alive again.

The thought twisted something deep in my chest.

Guilt, mostly.

I'd been ignoring his calls ever since I freed Nathan and drove away.

God, after I go back, I should talk to him, fix this mess somehow. I have to make  Grandpa and Nathan sit in the same room without trying to kill each other and force them to tolerate one another.

My eyes drifted to Nathan, whose eyes were already on me, watching me closely. He didn't ask what was wrong, didn't interrupt the storm in my head. He just stepped closer, his fingers slipping between mine, threading through them.

I tightened my grip on his hand before turning away and walking deeper into the house.

My feet carried me toward the pool without thinking. My body remembered the way by heart.

It was strange how my mind forgot the big things, the important things...yet somehow held onto the smallest details. This brain of mine, it was just so messy, a broken archive of sorts.

I slid the glass door open and stepped into the cold night. The air was sharp against my skin, but inside I felt hot...burning, even.

I stopped at the edge of the pool.

One hand still locked safely in Nathan's grip, while the other hung at my side, trembling slightly until I curled my fingers into a fist.

The water shimmered under the lights.

Blue. I knew it was blue, but all I saw was red.

Dark.

Heavy.

Thick.

My eyes stayed fixed on it, searching, hoping the water would give something back. A memory. A fragment. A clue my mind had buried too deep for me to reach, but no, nothing came back, not even that murky image of hands wrapping around my neck and pushing me under...no, nothing.

I shook my head and tried to drag oxygen into my lungs.

It didn't work.

Nathan stayed silent beside me, but his presence was steady, so goddamn warm, like a tether tied around my ribs, ready to yank me back if I slipped too far.

A crazy, reckless idea hit me out of nowhere, and I turned to him, voicing it out loud, "Will you jump with me?"

His eyebrows pulled closer, "Jump with you where?"

"In the pool?"

"Now?" he asked, caught off guard. "Princess, it's freezing, you'll get sick."

I shook my head, refusing logic, "Will you?"

His eyes searched mine for a long second, reading everything I wasn't saying, then he nodded his head, "Okay."

I turned back to the water, trying to find what was missing. The pool shimmered under the lights, so calm and deceivably innocent, like it hadn't once swallowed pieces of my life.

I stared at it, daring it. My feet trembled on the edge. My fingers twitched uncontrollably. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to step away, to run, to stay far from the water.

But another part of me, the broken one, leaned forward instead.

My body remembered something. I could feel it. My muscles tightened. My lungs felt tight. My pulse climbed into my throat.

But my mind...my mind had nothing, it was blank.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Nathan," I whispered, the plea in my voice barely audible, but Nathan heard it. He understood me without words.

He grabbed me by the arm so firmly and took the initiative as we both jumped. The splash of water mixed with the sound of my low gasp before we went under...down...further down the redness, the blackness...

My eyes stayed shut as I sank beneath the surface. I held my breath, waiting...for the hands, for fingers to wrap around my throat, for someone to shove me deeper, for the panic, for the memory to break through and finally show me what my mind had buried.

I waited, and waited, but nothing came...

Two very different hands touched my cheeks, cupped my face, and guided me back to the surface.

Air rushed back into my lungs in full force, and my eyes opened slowly.

Nathan's wet hair clung to his temples, dark strands plastered across his forehead. His chest pressed against mine beneath the water, holding me steady as his frantic eyes searched my face.

The water was no longer bloody. The redness turned into blue the longer I gazed at him. No one pulled me under, no one pushed me further, no one...maybe really no one tried to hurt me, maybe I made that all up in my messed-up head and believed it somehow...

"Aylin," Nathan said, worry tightening his voice. "Are you okay?"

My hand reached for him under the water, my fingers grasping and curling into his wet sweatshirt. I shook my head, feeling a tremor surge through my chest, my whole body trembling and not from the cold, from something else, like my body remembered something, but my mind couldn't.

It hurt.

Tears gathered in my eyes, blurring my vision.

"Princess," Nathan whispered, "Do you...do you remember something?"

I shook my head, one tear falling, followed by another, "No, nothing, but something hurts, I don't...I don't know what it is, but..." My hand pressed against my chest, right over the ache blooming there, "but it hurts so bad."

Nathan's hand rose, warm fingers sliding along my cheek, brushing away the tears that kept slipping down no matter how hard I tried to stop them.

"Aylin..." he murmured.

When more followed, he didn't try to stop them anymore. He simply pulled me closer.

My body collided with his beneath the water, his arms wrapping around me fully now, locking me against him like he was afraid the water might try to take me again.

His lips brushed my temple, so softly, so carefully.

Then he kissed the wetness on my cheek, tasting the salt of my tears, chasing them away, one after another.

"It's okay," he murmured, "It's okay, let go, just let it go, princess."

"I—" My voice cracked before the word could even form.

Nathan pressed another kiss against my temple, his hand sliding into my hair, holding the back of my head against him.

"You don't have to fight it," He said, his voice tight, on the edge.

His lips brushed my forehead. "If you need to cry, then cry," he said, "I am right here...I've got you."

The sob that tore out of my chest was raw and ugly and violent. It shook my entire body as if something inside me had finally cracked open after years of pressure.

I clutched him harder, my fingers dug into his skin.

He didn't move, didn't shush me, didn't try to stop the storm ripping out of my lungs.

He just held me, with one hand on the back of my head, the other wrapped around my waist beneath the water.

A wall against the world, a shield against every force that wanted to hurt me.

I cried like something had died inside me, like something had been buried in this pool a long time ago.

A little girl.

A memory.

A piece of my life that never made it out of the water.

My chest heaved against Nathan's as the sobs kept coming, and he stayed there through all of it.

Holding me.

Anchoring me.

Like I really had drowned here once...and he was the one dragging me back to the surface.

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

We stayed the night in the house.

It had been too late to drive back, and I had been far too drained, emotionally wrung out after everything that happened in the pool. Nathan didn't even argue about it. He simply took control of the situation the way he always did.

He dried me off, changed my clothes, and pulled me into his arms when we lay down in my old room. I fell asleep there, tucked against his chest.

No memories came back.

Not a single one.

But something had shifted inside me. Crying in that pool had cracked something open, like a pressure valve finally giving way. The weight I'd been carrying around for months, maybe years, felt...lighter, somehow.

When we woke up, the weather was almost perfect, the warm sunlight almost felt unreal after the storm of the night before.

Nathan and I sat by the edge of the pool now. He had his coffee. I had my matcha. My legs dangled into the water, absentmindedly stirring the surface with slow swings.

The water stayed blue.

It didn't turn red once.

That alone felt like a victory.

"You promise not to ruin my girls' night?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at the menace sitting beside me.

"Of course not," he said. "Since I'm the greatest boyfriend  currently walking this earth, I'll generously allow you to have your little girls' night with Lilly and...uh...Sandra—"

"Sally," I corrected.

He blinked. "Huh?"

"Her name is Sally, not Sandra."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered. "Sally, Sandra, Susan. The point is, I know you're excited about it, so I'll allow you this one night of freedom." He took a sip of his coffee, completely unbothered. "Just one, though, don't get used to the luxury."

The more nonsense he kept spewing with that infuriating mouth of his, the harder it became to pay attention to anything he was actually saying.

Because my eyes kept drifting down, shamelessly staring at him.

The sun spilled over his bare chest, sliding across the sharp lines of muscle like it had been personally hired to sabotage my concentration. Every small movement, lifting his cup, leaning back slightly, stretching his arm behind him, shifted the muscles beneath his skin in a way that made my brain short-circuit.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.

God. I still couldn't quite believe that he was mine only, not borrowed, not temporary, just my man, that I didn't have to share him with the rest of the world. If I had met him earlier, years ago, how different would everything have been?

"You know," he said casually, clearly aware of exactly where my attention had wandered, "Lilly suggested that while you girls go out, I could have a...guys' night with Chase."

My head snapped up so fast my neck nearly cracked.

"And I almost hired a hitman to shoot her for even suggesting it," He added, rubbing at his temple like the thought alone physically pained him. "The level of disrespect from that girl is honestly getting out of control."

Dear god, the last thing I needed was Nathan and Chase hanging out together...the thought felt wrong in every way.

Nathan's eyebrow lifted slowly as he studied my expression. "You look more horrified by that idea than I am," he noted.

"Would you like it if I hung out with your ex-girlfriend?" I shot back.

He shook his head calmly. "I don't have an ex-girlfriend."

"Fine," I muttered. "One of your ex-flings then."

He shrugged, "You could, why would that bother me?" He said, taking another sip and licking his lips, I had to stop myself from ogling at them glistening beneath the sunlight. Damn him and his provocative actions.

"Maybe I could introduce you to some of them when we go to the UK," he added, smug as ever. "A little tour of 'here lay the women Nathan emotionally destroyed before settling down.'"

I shot him a glare, my fingers curling around the edge of the pool.

"Don't make me throw you into the water," I muttered.

Nathan chuckled, clearly delighted by the threat. Then he leaned closer and pressed a slow kiss to my temple. "You sound awfully territorial for someone who keeps insisting she needs...time."

"Me needing time doesn't mean you're allowed to..." I cut myself off, heat rising in my chest, irritation prickling beneath my skin, "That you're allowed to look at any other woman." I narrowed my eyes at him, "Remember my warning? I'd stab you."

His grin widened as if I'd just told him something deeply romantic.

He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to the top of my shoulder. "Just say yes, let me have you forever, and spare the rest of the world from your violent tendencies."

I knew exactly where this was heading. That dangerously calm, coaxing tone meant he was about to start circling the topic again. He'd corner me just like he had yesterday, twist the conversation around until my already weak brain short-circuited and I somehow ended up saying yes.

So I did the only responsible thing.

I swatted him away before he could keep going. My legs slipped out of the water, and I pushed to my feet quickly.

"I'll—uh—change so we can leave," I muttered, already backing away, and then I ran before he'd force me to answer him again.

"Nah-ah," his voice came from behind me immediately. He got up quickly and came after me, of course, "Come back here, you little minx," Nathan called after me, his voice full of tease, "You think you can just run away from your problems?"

"Yes," I shouted back over my shoulder. "It's been working great so far!"

I quickened my pace, nearly breaking into a run as I crossed the patio and rushed toward the house.

Behind me, I heard his footsteps picking up speed.

"Princess, you know that you can't run from me," He said, dangerously amused now. "I'll catch you, and you won't like what I'll do to you then...well, who am I kidding, you'll very much like it."

I couldn't help the laugh that slipped out of me as I hurried forward, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air.

This man was insane...completely insane, and apparently so was I.

I darted toward the back steps, my heart racing as I heard him getting closer.

I tried to move faster and nearly tripped over my own feet. My hand shot out instinctively. My fingers wrapped around the wooden railing beside the steps to steady myself.

The moment my skin touched the worn wood...something snapped inside my head. A flash, sharp and blinding, like déjà vu ripping through me.

I laughed and laughed, running as fast as my little two feet could take me. I almost tripped, but my fingers grasped the wooden rail for balance.

I paused, panting, trying to gather my oxygen before I'd sprint off again to hide. I had to win this time—

"You cannot interfere again, not this time, Dad," Mom's angry voice echoed from somewhere close, loud enough that my laughter died instantly.

I turned my head.

The back door was slightly open, and through the crack, I could hear her.

I stepped closer, curiosity tugging me forward the way it always did when grown-ups raised their voices.

"Adrian and I already made our decision," Mom continued, her voice shaking with something I didn't understand back then. "It's final. We're putting her back in the institution. It's the only way...nothing else is working."

My small hand stayed wrapped around the railing as I leaned closer to the doorway. Across from her, grandpa stood. He looked angry, furious even.

"You can't do that," he snapped.

They were fighting again...it must be because of me. They only ever fought because of me.

"I told you," Grandpa continued, his voice rising, "leave her with me. I'll look after her, I'll take care of her. I know how to deal with this, how to handle it..."

Mom shook her head. "No...this isn't working. It won't work that way."

"It's not working because you and fucking Adrian don't know how to deal with her," Grandpa shot back, "How do you expect her to get better when she never feels safe with you? When all you do is shout and blame her for everything?"

"Dad, I—"

"Layla, I will not let you send her back to that place!" He interrupted, his voice bellowing off the walls, "Don't you remember how she was the last time? How the fucking meds they gave her changed her? She is only a kid, for god's sake. That place would slowly kill her."

"What else am I supposed to do?" she cried. "Do you think I enjoy any of this? Do you think it doesn't break my heart, but...but what else could I do?"

"Leave her with me," Grandpa said, "I will take care of her."

"Just like you took care of mom?"

"Layla—" he warned.

"What? What?" she snapped. "Why can't you see it? You're doing it again...you stopped Mom from getting treated. Every time they sent her there, you brought her back."

Her voice broke, years of anger spilling into the room.

"She didn't ruin our lives, you did, Dad, you did it! If only you were able to let her go, if only you let her stay there and get treated the way she should've, maybe we would've had a normal life...So no, no, I won't let you do the same to my daughter!"

"Treated? That place killed her spirit more every time, the doctors prodding and poking her, testing drugs on her that only killed the light in her eyes," Grandpa said, his voice pained, "How did you expect me to leave her there? Leave her to wither away?"

"You didn't, but what else happened, Dad? How many times did you end up in the hospital because of her? How many times did she hurt you and me?"

He shook his head, "It didn't matter, that was a small price to pay. She was okay when she was with me, with us, she laughed and smiled—"

"And she pushed me down the stairs when I was pregnant!" Mom said, interrupting him.

My heart thumped loudly in my chest. I didn't understand a thing...

"Did you forget that? I was bleeding, I had to stay on bedrest till the pregnancy ended, I almost lost Aylin..." Tears glistened in her eyes, "And maybe I should've had...maybe mom knew I was only going to give birth to another version of her."

"Stop—"

"Isn't it the truth?"

"Layla, stop!" His voice thundered through the house. "You know exactly what happened after that, how you begged me to send her away, and when I did, what happened? She couldn't handle it and...and killed herself!"

He shook his head, fury and grief tangled in his voice.

"The only thing that got me through that without losing my fucking mind was Aylin...so, I will fight you and Adrian with everything I have before I let you do the same thing to this little girl, keep that in your mind!"

The memory fractured, the faces blurring, Mom's face dissolving into streaks of color, Grandpa's figure fading like smoke. Their voices stretched and warped, echoing through my head before slipping away completely.

I blinked, once, twice...more, but my vision refused to clear.

Everything around me turned white, blinding, weightless. I couldn't focus my vision, but...the pool, I could see it again, no longer blue, red...again, it was red again.

My lungs burned.

Grandpa's big, strong arms wrapped around my shivering body so tightly as he pulled me out of the water.

He pulled me against his chest so tightly it almost hurt, his hands rubbing my back, my shoulders, my face like he was trying to warm life back into me.

I was shivering. My clothes clung to my skin, so heavy and soaked. My hair dripped into my eyes as I tried to lift my head.

I tried to turn...tried to see what was happening on the other side of the pool, but Grandpa's hand slid to my cheek, guiding my face back toward him.

"Look at me," he said roughly.

I shook my head, stubborn even then, twisting to look past him anyway.

Mom was crying, she was...sobbing, she was saying something I couldn't hear, the water filled my ears, everything sounded distant, muted, like the world had been pushed underwater with me.

Grandpa's hands, very warm hands, cupped my face, turned it back to him, a type of pain in his eyes I had never seen before.

"It's gonna be okay," he whispered, like a vow.

"I'll make it okay," he added, his voice tight with a promise I didn't understand back then, "I'll make it all okay, I promise."

A promise that felt heavier than the water clinging to my skin, than the suffocating pain over my chest.

Because years later, I would realize something terrifying.

Grandpa wasn't promising to save me.

He was promising to fix what had already happened.

⊹˚₊‧─────────────────‧₊˚⊹

Author's note:

Hello :)

If my calculations are correct, not the next chapter, the one after it, you will learn the truth, and guess what, Nathan will be the one to figure it out first ;)

Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter!

Also, isn't it amusing that Nathan actually listened to Nik's advice and keeps trying to fight his first instinct? xD

He's going to explode, lol

See ya soon 🩶