The words hit like a sledgehammer.
My breath stutters. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’tforceher,” she says, cutting through. “But youengineeredher consent. You made her believe she was safe. Cared for. That’s what consent requires, Lucian—truth. You created a fantasy and let her build a life around it. That’s not seduction. That’smanipulation. You can believe to be real with someone and still hurt them in ways that have names.”
I don’t speak.
“What she felt wasn’t some exaggeration. You broke her reality.”
“I know,” I whisper.
“No. You’restartingto know. There’s a difference.”
I rub my face with one hand, voice cracking. “It wasrealto me. Eventually. But... I get what you mean. My therapist said the same thing. But I self-destructed. And...”
“And?”
My voice breaks completely. “And it hurts to have hurt her.”
“Good. It should.”
I blink.
It’s a slap. A deserved one.
She doesn’t offer comfort. Only accountability.
“I threw up after she said it to me,” I say before I even realize I’m speaking. “Like my body understood something I couldn’t accept yet. That someone like me—who knows what violation is—could still becapableof committing it.”
There’s a flicker in Diana’s eyes. The first human thing. A pause.
Then she leans forward. “So why are you here, Lucian?”
“Because I... I broke her,” I breathe. “And I want to know how not to do that ever again.”
She’s quiet for a moment.
“That’s what your therapist is for, Lucian. Not me. So... why are you here?”
Fuck. Why is this so hard?
“Did... did I ruin us for good?”
She’s scrutinizing me. I have no idea what she’s seeing because I’m just here holding my damn breath.
Because this is the first time I’ve let myself even think of this impossibility. Of hoping for something that I ruined with my own two hands. Of selfishly craving for a life withher—a life I don’t deserve.
Her eyes soften slightly. “You love her.”
It’s not a question. It’s a deduction.
“I do,” I nod and force myself to say more. “But she’s leaving. Going back to India.”
Diana sighs, her expression flickering. “I can empathize. Why would she stay in the same city as the man who... broke her—as you said?”
“I know.” I swallow hard. “But I—God—I just want to make things right.”
“Sounds impossible.”
