“What’s on your mind?” I ask gently, watching him closely.
He hesitates, his gaze dropping, and for a moment, I think he won’t say anything at all. But then he sighs, jaw clenching as if bracing himself. “She’s back,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.
I blink, confused. “Who?”
His eyes flick back to mine, dark and stormy. “Helen,” he says, the name falling from his lips like a curse. “I thought she was dead… years ago. But she’s back, Alessia. I saw her.”
Shock ripples through me. I don’t know much about his mother, only the fragments he’s let slip—enough to understand she’d caused him unimaginable pain. “Romiro…” I start, reaching out to touch his face. “I didn’t know. How… how do you feel?”
He laughs bitterly, pulling back from my hand, his gaze hardening. “How do I feel? After everything she did, after I thought I’d escaped her ghost for good… Now she’s here, like it’s nothing. Like she didn’t destroy my life.”
My heart aches for him, but a part of me is desperate to understand. “Romiro, please,” I say softly. “Help me understand. You’ve never told me what really happened with her. What did she do to you?”
His jaw clenches, and he looks away, every muscle in his body tense. “There are things about my past, Alessia, that you don’t want to know. Things I don’t want you to know.”
“But I want to help,” I whisper, my hand hovering near his arm, unsure if he’ll even accept my comfort. “Whatever she did, you don’t have to carry it alone.”
He shakes his head, his expression shutting down, a cold mask replacing the pain that had been there moments ago. “No,” he says firmly, pulling his hand from my hip. “You don’t understand. This is my burden. My history. You don’t belong in that part of my life.”
The finality in his tone makes my heart sink, but I press on, unwilling to leave things this way. “Romiro, if we’re going to be together, you can’t just shut me out every time things get hard. I want to know you—all of you. Not just the parts you’re willing to share.”
He stands up, running a hand through his hair, frustration etched in every line of his face. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, Alessia. You say you want to know me, but there are parts of me that are broken beyond repair. Parts that will only hurt you if you get too close.”
“Then let me decide that,” I insist, a pleading note in my voice. “I can’t stand by and watch you go through this alone. Not if you’re going to keep shutting me out.”
He looks down at me, his eyes softening for just a moment, and I see the flicker of something raw, something vulnerable. But just as quickly, he pulls back, his expression hardening again. “I’m sorry, Alessia,” he says, voice distant. “But there are things I can’t share with you. Not now.”
A painful silence stretches between us, his words hanging heavy in the air. I swallow, feeling a hollow ache in my chest. “So… what does that mean for us?”
He hesitates, avoiding my gaze. “It means… I need time. Time to deal with this—alone.”
I nod, though my heart feels like it’s shattering. “If that’s what you need,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice steady. “But Romiro, I can’t keep waiting forever. One day, you’ll have to decide if you want me in your life… or if you’ll keep me at a distance.”
He doesn’t answer, and I can see the struggle in his eyes. He presses a brief, almost desperate kiss to my forehead, lingering as if he’s memorizing the feel of me. “I’m sorry, Alessia,” he whispers. “For everything.”
I watch as he turns, heading for the door, and I feel something inside me crack, a deep, aching sadness that settles in my chest like a weight. The door closes behind him with a quietclick, and I’m left alone, the silence of the room pressing in on me, thick and suffocating.
I sink back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, my chest tight with a quiet, lingering ache. I’m not sure how to handle this—how to accept being kept in the shadows, hidden like something he can’t fully claim.
I lift a hand to my lips, still tingling from his kiss, but the hollow feeling only settles deeper, rooting itself in the pit of my stomach. I want to be strong enough to believe this is temporary, that one day he’ll let me into his world completely. But right now, I just feel… adrift.
Mr. Marvin hops onto the bed, curling up beside me, his soft fur and gentle purr a small, steady comfort. I run my fingers through his coat, grounding myself in the rhythm, letting his warmth ease some of the emptiness around me.
I take a deep breath, trying to hold onto the hope that somehow, we’ll find a way through this—that he’ll let me all the way in. But as dawn breaks, casting pale light across my room, a flicker of doubt lingers, wondering if I’m just setting myself up to be let down all over again.
The morning light spills through the curtains, growing brighter, casting a soft, golden hue across the room. I feel its warmth on my skin, but it does little to chase away the chill that has settled in my bones. Mr. Marvin’s purring fills the silence, a small, rhythmic sound that usually soothes me, but today it barely makes a dent in the storm of thoughts swirling in my mind.
I wipe at the tears still clinging to my lashes and let out a shaky breath, trying to gather myself. It’s ridiculous to feel this way, to feel so raw and hollow over a conversation that, deep down, I knew was coming. I knew Romiro would push back; he’s been protecting me since we were kids, always watching my back, always stepping in when things got rough. But this time, it feels different. This time, it feels like he’s building walls around himself, between us, and I don’t know if I have the strength to climb over them.
I force myself to sit up, push the sheet away, and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The hardwood floor is cold beneath my feet, a sharp contrast to the lingering warmth of the sheets. I run a hand through my hair, my fingers tangling in the messy strands, and close my eyes, trying to find some clarity in the chaos of my mind.
What am I supposed to do now? Pretend that everything is fine, that I’m okay with hiding in the shadows, with keeping this part of my life locked away from the people I care about? How can I stand next to Romiro at family gatherings and act like nothing has changed when everything inside me feels different, feels so much more? How can he act like nothing has changed between us?
I think about his words, about the fear in his voice, the way his hand trembled just slightly when he touched my cheek. I know he’s scared, scared for me, scared of what might happen if people find out about us. I know our world is darker than that of “normal” couples, filled with threats and dangers I can barely comprehend. But I also know that I can’t live like this, can’t keep pretending that my heart isn’t tangled up in his.
I stand up, crossing the room to the window, pulling the curtain aside to look out at the city below. The streets are starting to come alive, cars moving slowly through the morning traffic, people hurrying along the sidewalks, their coats pulled tight against the chill. I watch them for a moment, feeling a strange sense of detachment, like I’m standing on the outside of my own life, watching it unfold without me.
I press my forehead against the cool glass, closing my eyes. Maybe I’m being selfish, maybe I’m asking too much. Maybe Romiro is right, and it’s better this way, safer this way. But it doesn’t feel safer. It feels like I’m trapped, like we’re trapped in a space where we can’t move forward, can’t go back, just stuck in this endless loop of hiding and pretending.
