"He was her lifeline,
she was his sanity."

•────•°•❀•°•────•

MONDAY 

Max's POV

I kept my gaze fixed on the hall's entrance, my eyes flicking between the door and the ticking numbers of my watch. Each second that passed felt like a tiny thread of hope unraveling. When the clock finally struck the start of class, and the professor stepped inside, my heart sank a little. She wasn't coming.

I was about to give up, to let my shoulders drop and turn my attention to the front, when a flash of ginger caught my eye. My heart skipped as I watched her walk in, emerging from behind the professor with that friend of hers chattering away at her side. Valerie seemed distant though, almost detached from the ongoing conversation, her thoughts somewhere far away.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I watched her. She clutched the notebook—my notebook tightly to her chest, her eyes scanning the room, searching for an empty seat. Midway through her search, her eyes locked with mine and she paused, just for a second. A second too long.

A second where everyone else disappeared.

A second where everything vanished. Almost like—like she never once got hurt before. Almost like I never lied to her. Almost like we were just two normal happy people, who met at college and clicked. No more. No less.

I felt so much relief within the fabric of that one little second.

My heart lurched but before I could make her uncomfortable and per my promise to steer away, I forcefully averted my eyes away from her, focusing ahead on the professor as he started his lecture.

Beside me, Cole was aware of everything that had just transpired. His eyes followed Valerie as she made her way to a seat I supposed was far away from ours. He flashed her a wide smile, waving his hand. I didn't turn to look if she waved him back, keeping my eyes trained on him.

I shot him a warning glare.

"What?" he mumbled, raising an eyebrow at me.

I shook my head, dismissing him with a tight-lipped sigh.

•────•°•❀•°•────•

Valerie's POV

As the first part of the lecture came to a close, the professor announced a fifteen-minute break. The room stirred to life, students shuffling out in different directions—some heading for the cafeteria, others outside for a smoke, and a few grabbing their backpacks, clearly planning to abandon the rest of the lecture.

"I'll get coffee, want anything?" Tanya asked, already standing and reaching for her purse.

"No, thanks," I replied, my lips pressing into a very small smile.

My gaze drifted from her retreating figure to the nearly empty hall. Almost everyone had left, save for a few stragglers—five people, at most. Among them, of course, was him.

My eyes couldn't help but linger on his side profile longer than I should, sitting just a few rows to my left. The way he leaned back into his seat, his focus seemingly glued to his laptop screen, stirred something deep within me. His fingers drummed lightly on the edge of the desk, one after the other, in a rhythm that betrayed his tension. Even from this angle, I could see the subtle tightness in his jaw, and the way his shoulders seemed to carry an invisible weight.

My eyes traced the sharp angle of his jawline, the way his chin seemed to catch the light just so, casting shadows that softened the strength there. His nose, straight and noble, led the way to lips that were neither too full nor too thin, but perfectly balanced, as if they had been shaped by a master sculptor. His hair, tousled in a way that seemed unintentional, added to the quiet intensity that radiated from him, even in stillness.

I could feel my heart thudding against my ribs, my breath catching as I imagined those eyes of his—eyes that held the depth of forests, so green and endless—turning toward me. But he didn't move. His fingers, however, tapped lightly on the desk, as if betraying a rhythm that only he could hear, a sign of restlessness that matched my own.

There was something in his posture, the tension in his shoulders, that told me he was just as aware of my presence as I was of his, though he fought not to show it.

I forced myself to look away before he'd catch me ogling at him. My eyes landed on the pages of the notebook, where a small orange sticky note clung to the edge. My lips curled into a soft smile as I lightly ran my fingers over the little piece of paper, tracing its edges.

I don't know how much time passed with me reading and rereading the few sweet words he wrote for me, I was so absorbed in my own little world that the only thing that pulled me out was the shadow hovering over me. I lifted my head, my eyes falling on Cole as he stood ahead of me, his eyes narrowing slightly, his hand holding a cup of coffee to his lips.

"So, I hear you broke up with my boy," He started the conversation, addressing it ever so casually.

My heart sank, at the mere thought that he might know the reason. Cole lowered his cup down, leaning a bit closer, so he could look more clearly at me, "Even though he didn't tell me the reason," Oh phew, "I have this feeling that it is fixable, so how about we skip all the heartbreak and drama chapters and jump right into the happily ever after?"

I backed into my seat, my eyebrow raising slightly at the hint of mockery in his tone. 

"What would it take for you two to get back together?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'm ready to do whatever it takes. Make him apologize? Make him grovel? Sacrifice someone at the altar?" He added with exaggerated sarcasm, his lips curling into a sly grin.

I couldn't stop the smile that tugged at my lips, and Cole caught it, giving me a playful wink. "It'll work out, believe me," he said, his voice laced with a confidence that almost made me believe him, as if he knew something I didn't, could see into a future invisible to me.

He started to turn away, ready to head back to his seat, but before I could think it through, my hand instinctively reached out and caught his wrist, stopping him mid-step.

His head turned around, his eyes falling back on me, a questioning look in his eyes.

"How is he?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, betraying the struggle within me—not to pry, not to let my emotions spill over, not to break all the walls I had carefully built again after the wreckage.

I was torn, angry at him yet aching with every fiber of my being.

"Miserable," Cole replied without hesitation, though he winced immediately after. "But, uh, never tell him I said that."

"Seriously, Cole," I stressed out.

He sighed, "I am serious," he answered, "I mean he has been unpleasant for like a year, ever since he got that new Hitler's kidney, but now...now he is extra unpleasant, extra difficult and so very annoying," He said.

I gulped down, "His health, I mean," I mumbled, "Is he okay?"

Cole nodded, his expression softening. "Yeah, he's fine," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "But my well-being? That's at risk if you don't plan on letting go of my wrist anytime soon." He glanced pointedly at my hand, still wrapped around his.

Startled by the realization, I quickly withdrew my hand. Instinctively, my eyes drifted across the room to find him. And there he was, watching us, his gaze piercing through the space between us. Our eyes locked and his jaw ticked. His fingers that had been idly tapping against the desk now curling into a tense fist.

"Rest in peace, me," Cole muttered under his breath

Just then, Tanya returned, sliding into her seat beside me and unintentionally blocking my view.

I tore my gaze away instantly.

"Uh, hey," Tanya addressed Cole with a small polite smile.

Cole glanced at her, his eyes flicking from her head to her toes before a look of recognition crossed his face. He shuddered slightly, as if recalling something unpleasant, and then shot her a glare before nodding to me and heading back to his seat.

Tanya watched him go, her brow furrowing in annoyance, "Who the hell does he think he is?" she grumbled, rolling her eyes as she stabbed her straw into her iced coffee with unnecessary force, taking a very aggressive first sip.

I let out a quiet sigh, sinking deeper into my seat, the weight of everything pressing down on me once more.

•────•°•❀•°•────•

Max's POV

I pushed open the glass door, and the little bells at the top jingled their shrill greeting. The sound grated on my nerves, so much that I shot them a glare as if daring them to jingle again. If they did, I might have ripped them off the door entirely.

The frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface since today's morning lecture was dangerously close to boiling over.

Some guy, too absorbed in his phone to notice anything else, plowed into me as he tried to rush out, his shoulder colliding with mine with unnecessary force. His half-full coffee cup tipped just enough to spill a dark stain across my white sweatshirt.

"Oh, sorry, man," he mumbled, barely looking up as he continued out the door, leaving me standing there.

I turned to glare at his retreating back, my hands clenching into fists. The urge to chase after him, to vent all this pent-up rage on his oblivious face, was almost overpowering. But I forced myself to let it go, reminding myself that this spiraling anger wasn't really about him—it was about her, about everything that had been twisting me up inside lately.

I needed an outlet, something to release this tension before it consumed me. Pulling out my phone, I quickly typed out a message.

Can I come by this evening?

Seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity before his response finally came through.

Kidney Donor: Raincheck?

My jaw tightened, a muscle in my temple pulsing with the effort to keep my composure. I replied with a curt Okay, the word feeling as hollow as I did at this moment.

I shoved the phone back into my pocket and forced myself to keep moving. As I approached the counter, my eyes met Aubrey's. She smiled softly, sensing the storm brewing inside me.

"What's up?" she asked, her voice light, trying to ease the tension.

I leaned on the counter, a sigh tearing its way out of my chest as my head dropped in defeat. "Terrible," I grumbled.

Aubrey chuckled softly, her fingers ruffling my hair playfully, "You kids make my life so much more interesting," she teased, her tone gentle, trying to coax any other reaction out of me.

I shot her a half-hearted glare, she gave a wink before she turned around and reached beneath the counter, picking something up.

When she faced me again, she extended her hand forward, "Someone left this for you," She said with a knowing tone, her smile widening.

My gaze fell into the notebook, my notebook. My heart kicked it up a notch, my pulse quickening as I slowly reached forward for it, my eyes taking notice of the brand new pink sticky note resting on top, with words scribbled over.

I held it with two hands, careful, scared it might vanish, or fall apart and I'd never get to read the note. I glanced back at Aubrey, whose smile had softened, as if she understood how much this meant to me. "Oh, and wait," she added, as if just remembering, "This is for you too," She added, extending forward the cup of coffee.

I couldn't help the low chuckle that escaped, my mood shifting like the flip of a coin, the weight on my shoulders lifting just a little for the simplest silliest of reasons.

I clutched the notebook tightly in one hand, reaching for the cup with the other. "I'm not paying for this, am I?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes, "Imma go bankrupt because of you two, but yeah, it's on the house," She said, teasingly. 

I looked down at the cup, the familiar aroma of gingerbread wafting up to me, and Aubrey's next words made my heart skip a beat.

"She made it herself."

A smile tugged at my lips, "She might've poisoned it then," I muttered.

Aubrey chuckled lowly, her hand reached forward and she tapped it over my arm, "Just give her time, she'll come around."

I nodded my head, my hope although little, was there still, "I know."

Aubrey had to rush off after to tend to other customers, but not before giving me a quick wave and a knowing smile. I nodded back and made my way to my usual spot, placing the cup and notebook on the table. My eyes immediately fell on the pink sticky note, and I traced the familiar handwriting with my fingertips, savoring every word.

"Dear Kidney boy,

First of all, thanks for the protein bar, I ate it right after my hotdog, such a treat it was ;)

Second of all, you didn't have to write down all of these lecture notes for me, thank you, everything was so clear that it felt like you were sitting right across from me, being my tutor again and all...

Considering you'd never take money from me, here is your latte, and no, it's not poisoned.

Seriously tho, this was so sweet of you.

P.S. Take care of yourself.

Sincerely,
V."

I probably read it twice or maybe like—ten times, but who was counting, really?

It was hard to erase the stupid smile off my face as I pulled out my laptop, went to the notes I took today, and started scribbling them down with immaculate attention to every little detail.

Hours later, when I finally finished, I carefully placed her note into my other notebook—couldn't risk losing that—and pulled out a fresh sticky note. Apparently, this was becoming our new form of communication,

"Dear V,

You never have to thank me, I am just really glad you chose to take this course again, you made the three-hour lecture a bit more bearable.

Anyway, you can find inside today's notes, and if anything is unclear, just highlight it in red, and leave the notebook with Aubrey. I will try to explain it better next time.

P.S. I liked that little strawberry clip you had on the side of your hair today. It's cute. 

Another P.S. If you want Cole to stay alive, don't touch his hand again.

Oh, and another P.S. As much as I like the coffee you prepare for me, but I think I might be turning into a caffeine addict. Also, I think the ginger is causing me heartburn because my heart never burned this bad before.

Sincerely,
Dr. Maxwell."

•─────•°•❀•°•─────•

THURSDAY

"Dear Dr. Max,

First of all, are you ever going to stop tutoring me?

Second of all, as your certified future doctor, I need you to get your heart checked out. Also, as I previously mentioned, ginger could cause diarrhea too, have that checked out as well :)

P.S. The lecture notes were very clear, thanks...

Another P.S. I threw the strawberry clip in the trash.

Oh, and another P.S. Today, I accidentally brushed Cole's arm from over his shirt sleeves when we walked past each other; is he still in danger?

P.S.S I made you a matcha latte this time, try it :)

Sincerely,
Dr. Valerie."

With a knowing smile tugging at my lips, I tucked her note into my bag, savoring every little bit of it. I pulled out a blank one, scribbling a few words before I placed it over the notebook that contained the new lecture notes.

"Dear Dr. Valerie,

To answer your first question; no, I won't stop.

Second of all, worry not about my heart, I heard that a cure is within reach ;)

P.S. You're always welcome, gingy.

Another P.S. I am buying you ten more of those clips.

Oh, and another very annoyed P.S. Don't be surprised when you see Cole walking around with a black eye.

P.S.S It's disgusting. A total disgrace to the word latte. Never make it again. I want my gingerbread, I am having withdrawals already.

Oh, and Valerie, I miss you.

Sincerely,
Max, who despises matcha."

•─────•°•❀•°•─────•

MONDAY

"Dear caffeine-addicted-Max,

I have to rush out to catch the bus, so here it goes:

- Matcha is all you're ever getting from now on.
- Stop threatening Cole, he is the sweetest.
- I threw the ten hair clips you sent me in the trash. Stop wasting money!
- What's the cure to your heartburn? I might need it as well.

Seriously tho, stop wasting your time writing me all these lecture notes, you don't have to. I'll take care of it on my own.

Oh, and Max, I kinda miss you too.

Sincerely,
I-can-study-on-my-own Valerie."

God, this crazy girl.

I took a new blank note and wrote on it.

"Dear I-am-so-full-of-pride Valerie,

You can find my answers below:

-Matcha sucks
- Cole is an asshole
- I sent you twenty clips this time, wear one of them!
- The cure is in your own hands, actually.
- I am never stopping my lecture notes, you need them, can't have you fall behind in class, we need to become doctors at the same time, so our wedding invitations could say: 'You're invited to Dr. Maxwell & Dr. Valerie's wedding...etc.'

- Btw, how many people are you inviting to the wedding? I am paying, remember, so keep it within the limit.

P.S. Can I see you?

Sincerely,
Your future husband."

•─────•°•❀•°•─────•

THURSDAY

"Dear my future homicide victim,

As I can see, you've begun to live in your fantasy world all over again, which means your mental state is at risk, which means you are not reliable, which means I am no longer studying from your notes. It's so sad to see our story end here (she said ever so sarcastically).

Btw, I am inviting everyone to my wedding, except you :)

P.S. I can't.

Sincerely,
Your murderer."

•─────•°•❀•°•─────•

"Dear future wifey,

Why can't I see you?

Sincerely,
Max."

•─────•°•❀•°•─────•

MONDAY

"You know why."

I stared at the three words, the only three words she'd left me this time. They stared back, stark and unyielding, as if they alone could explain everything—yet they explained nothing. I found myself tracing each letter, searching for hidden meanings, hoping that somehow, more words would magically appear to fill the growing void inside me. But nothing came—nothing except the ache that had been gnawing at my heart, which is probably why I ended up at the coffee shop during her shift today.

For the past two months, I kept my distance, I didn't push her, scared I'd lose her more than I already did. I never looked at her when inside the lecture hall. I never dropped by the shop when she was in here.

I tried to cling to the bits and pieces. I tried to hold onto the fragile remnants of what we once had, clinging desperately to the silly notes we exchanged every week. They were my lifeline, the last thread connecting me to her, and I cherished them, savored them, each one a fleeting moment of closeness in the vast distance that had grown between us.

But now, even that lifeline feels like it's slipping through my fingers, and I'm left with nothing but those three words, echoing in the emptiness she's left inside me.

So, I didn't act with logic—I acted on impulse, driven by the growing need for her, like an addict desperate for a fix, knowing that without it, he might collapse with no way back this time.

I pushed open the door and walked inside, determined, focused, a madman on a mission.

The shop was nearly empty, just a few people scattered with their laptops, lost in their own worlds. My eyes immediately sought her out, and there she was, behind the counter, her elbows resting on the wooden surface, her eyes completely absorbed in her book, tracing every line as if the words were the only thing anchoring her to the moment.

I moved forward with purpose, pushing past the small sliding door that separated workers from customers. The sudden sound of my approach startled Valerie, pulling her out of her little world. Her eyes widened as she realized how close I was.

Without hesitation, I reached for her wrist, my fingers curling around it gently but firmly, and guided her with me into the storage room in the back. The door creaked open, and I led us inside, closing it behind us with a click before finally turning to face her, the air between us charged with so many unspoken words.

I closed the distance between us, and when she looked up, her eyes—the eyes I'd missed so much—were clouded with a sadness that cut through me. In them, I saw the echo of her pain, the memory of her curled up in her room, back pressed against the wall, tears streaking down her bruised face.

My heart twisted, tightening in a way that felt irreparable, as if the burn was so deep, scorching every good memory we had.

She stared at me in silence, a storm of emotions flickering in her gaze, each one tearing at the edges of my soul. Tears welled up in her eyes, breaking and ruining me all over again.

"You shouldn't be here," she whispered, her voice fragile, as if the words themselves might shatter.

"I missed you," I confessed, my voice rough with the weight of everything I was holding back, the ache in my throat like a blade carving through me.

She tilted her head, her expression so heart-wrenchingly sad that I feared I was the source of her pain. "Max," she breathed, her voice trembling with all the words she couldn't bring herself to say.

"Valerie," I shook my head, unable to hold it in any longer. "I can't...I can't keep going like this. I can't function without you anymore. The only thing that kept me from completely losing my mind was those little notes we shared. But I need more, Valerie. I need you. I need you so I can breathe, so I can feel anything but this maddening emptiness."

She looked at me, her gaze softening just a fraction, but her pain was still there. Tears brimmed the edges of her eyes, and I reached forward, my hand trembling as I rested it over her cheek, my thumb tracing the area underneath her eyes in a feather-like touch.

The contact released her tears and a few spilled through, clashing with my fingers as I instantly wiped them away. She closed her eyes, pressing them shut to stop herself from unraveling. Her voice, choked, broke through the silence, "Why didn't you say anything?" she asked, her words barely more than a whisper.

"You tried so hard to not let me know, so how was I supposed to say anything, Valerie?"

She pried her eyelids open and looked at me, a storm raging within her, the part that wanted me and the one that got hurt because of me, both fought a war within her heart. Her lower lip trembled slightly and she shrugged, a gesture heavy with resignation, "It wasn't exactly something to be proud of, so of course I didn't want you to know."

I shook my head, lines etching between my eyebrows, "But you didn't do anything wrong, Valerie, it wasn't your fault," I stressed out because she addressed it like it was, "You survived, that's not something to be ashamed of."

Her lips curled up into a somber smile, "You call this surviving?"

I nodded, "Yeah, you survived." I said, "Valerie, and you're not just existing; you're thriving. God, you are the best sister Reneé could have, you are taking care of her like a mother would. You're here, forging a future for yourself, balancing studies and work, doing it all on your own, without anyone's support. That's not just surviving, it's also strength, Valerie."

She didn't seem to believe in those words, she shook her head, "I am not strong, if I was, I would've not fallen weak the second he showed up, I would've not allowed him to keep controlling my life like this," She sniffled, "If I was strong, I would've fought back."

"You can fight back."

She shook her head, "No. I can't. I am scared, Max, I am so scared," She whispered, "Last time I fought, I lost my father."

"Val—"

"What if this time I lost—you?" She mumbled over a broken whisper, shattering my heart once again.

I shook my head, cupping her face with both hands, "You won't, he holds no power over us."

"He does, he'd hurt Reneé, he'd hurt mom, and...and you," She said, "He told me, he threatened me, that if I stay with you, he'll hurt you, he'll—"

"He won't, and he can't," I stressed out.

"You don't know him, you don't know the power his family holds."

"I do," I nodded, "I know everything," My words drew confused lines over her forehead, "Just like I know the type of power my family holds as well," I added, "I am not alone, Valerie, and neither are you."

I shook my head, "Nothing will happen to Reneé, no one will harm her, and nothing will happen to your mother either. I know that you don't have any reason to trust me, but please, believe me in this at least, I promise you, no harm will befall them."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'll tell you all about it, if you let me," I said, ready to spill out every secret my family holds. I needed her to believe me, to trust me, to let me fight alongside her, to hold some of this heavy weight that she carries around.

Her eyes met mine with a helplessness that mirrored my own, but somewhere in that gaze, no matter how faint, was a flicker of belief. A belief in me.

Gently, I brushed away her tears with my thumb, the touch as soft as the emotions swirling between us. As she slowly lifted her hands, I braced myself, thinking she might push me away, and sever the fragile connection we still held onto. But instead, her hands settled over mine, grasping them tightly, as if she too was clinging to the frayed thread that bound us together.

I let my hands slide down just enough to move, to gather her into my arms. And as I did, she responded instantly, wrapping herself around me with a desperate urgency.

Our grips tightened simultaneously, like two lost souls finally finding their way back to each other. My eyelids fluttered closed, the scent of her hair filling my senses as I pressed my face into it, while she nestled her head into the crook of my neck, her tears soaking into my skin.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, the words catching in my throat. I was apologizing for everything—for the lies, for the ways I'd failed her, for allowing even a sliver of harm to touch her. "I'm so sorry, Valerie."

She sniffled, her head shaking slightly against my chest, as if to deny my words. She clung to me with a fierce determination, as though letting go would mean losing not just me, but herself as well.

I held her close, terrified as well that if I let go, she would slip through my fingers once more.

Emotions welled up, burning in my eyes, constricting my chest, as she slowly pulled back. But even as she broke the embrace, she didn't move far, keeping us close enough to breathe the same air, her heartbeat echoing the frantic rhythm of my own. We were both fighting a battle we couldn't afford to lose, and in this moment, it felt like we might just—win.

My hands cupped her face, fingers gently brushing away the strands of hair that had come loose, tucking them behind her ear.

A faint smile tugged at my lips the longer I looked at her, and as I gazed into her eyes, I saw something shift—through the heartbreak, her lips twitched ever so slightly. That small gesture was enough to calm the storm raging in my heart, piecing together the parts of me that had shattered.

"But Max, we have to be so careful," She said and I nodded my head, ready to do anything and everything, "We will be," I assured her.

"We can't..." She shook her head, "We can't be seen together in public. He knows, somehow he knows, he sees things, I don't know how but he does and I need to be careful."

I wanted to tell her a hundred times over that he didn't matter, that he held no power over us, but I knew she needed to believe that herself. So, I'd do it her way, whatever it took. "Okay, whatever you want," I agreed softly, "We won't talk in public."

I shrugged, "I prefer meeting behind closed doors anyway," I added with a playful tone.

Her little smile nearly healed the burn on my heart; see, the cure was in her hands all along.

I leaned in, pressing my lips to her forehead, letting my eyelids fall shut as I savored the moment. The warmth of her skin against mine, the scent of her filling my senses—it was everything I'd been missing, everything I needed to feel whole again.

•────•°•❀•°•────•

Later that evening...

"So, you're back together?"

I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my arm before tightening my gloves. The room was dimly lit, the overhead lights casting long shadows across the mat.

"I mean yeah," I said, adjusting my stance, "Kind of," I added, "Well, I guess we are."

Nikolas's eyebrow raised, kind of amused, "Cool," He said, his tone deliberately neutral, giving nothing away.

I met his gaze for a brief second, then shifted my focus back to the punch mitts he was holding up. Without another word, I threw myself back into the rhythm, driving my fists into the padded targets with each strike. The sharp thuds of my punches filled the room.

Nikolas held the mitts steady, his body bracing against the force of each blow.

"Well, I am just glad the sticky notes era is over," He commented, his sarcastic tone making me pause mid-swing.

"Hey!" I shot out, annoyed at how he kept mocking my previous attempts to connect with her through those little notes we shared.

"What," he said back, his eyebrow raising as I glared at him, "I've had enough of you whining about how long it took for her to reply back, and the whole back and forth," He added with a bored roll of his eyes, very much displeased.

"Should've sent them with a pigeon, would've reached her faster," He mumbled, his voice lower as if saying it to himself. My glare hardened, "You're not funny," I grumbled.

He gave me a knowing look, "I am not trying to be," He said, his tone casual, almost indifferent.

"Anyway," He lowered his hands, slipping off the mitts and tossing them aside. "Let's do this the old-fashioned way," he said, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up, preparing for our usual sparring session.

He untangled the first few buttons of his shirt. His demeanor shifted from teasing to focused, signaling it was time to get serious, "What was the score last time?"

I smiled, "Seven for me," I said ever so proudly, reveling in how I was able to strike him seven times in total during these sessions.

"And for me?" He asked, his eyebrow raising.

My smile faded, "Twenty-seven," I grumbled. True I've struck him seven times, but he's bested me twenty times over, but that wasn't going to stop me. I wasn't giving up until I could stand on equal ground with him.

He took his position, cracking his neck and getting all ready, "Let's make it twenty-eight then," He said, an apparent tease in his voice to infuriate me more, which made my glare harden as I took my position as well.

This time, I had a plan—to attack differently, catch him off guard. As we started, his eyes were sharp, tracking every minute movement, anticipating my next move. But then, something distracted him mid-swing. His focus wavered, just for a split second, and his eyes flicked away from me.

Seizing the opportunity, I pressed forward, driving him back toward the mat's side ropes. Victory seemed within reach; I could almost taste my eighth score. But before I could celebrate that I noticed the sudden tension in Nikolas's stance, the way his gaze had shifted, and the rigid line of his jaw.

Instinctively, I pulled back, following his line of sight. My head turned, tracing the path his eyes had locked onto, my eyes falling on Dad, standing by the entrance. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his coat, his eyes steady and unreadable as they bore into us both.

The air in the room shifted, charged and heavy with unspoken tension.

My heart plummeted into my stomach, dread settling in with a cold, hard weight.

Dad's silence felt like a storm waiting to break, and the tension in the air told me all I needed to know—if he wasn't speaking, then he was angry. Angry, and likely disappointed.

His footsteps echoed in the room as he moved forward, his eyes darting from me and settling on Nikolas, "Max, wait for me outside," he commanded, the authority in his voice raised my panic.

I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening. Reluctantly, I stepped away from Nikolas, lowering my hands and beginning to peel off my gloves, words ready to spill out in my defense. "Dad, I—"

His gaze cut back to me, sharper this time. "Outside, Max," he repeated, each word carefully controlled, but the tension in his jaw betrayed the simmering anger beneath the surface.

You see, Dad rarely ever got angry. He was always calm, and probably never raised his voice on me before. He was always the steady hand that guided me through everything. Seeing this side of him now, was like stepping into unfamiliar territory, and it terrified me more than I cared to admit.

Deciding it was wiser to keep silent for now—especially since I was partly to blame for keeping so much from him—I moved away, slipping outside of the ring, just as Nikolas did the same. He walked closer to Dad, ready to talk this over.

I kept walking, but as I neared the door, I hesitated, lingering on the threshold, unable to tear my focus away from the brewing storm inside. Part of me needed to hear what was about to unfold between them.

"Alex, listen—" Nikolas began, his voice calm, but Dad cut him off with a cold precision that made my stomach tighten.

"So, if Cara didn't slip and tell me this, you weren't planning to?" Accusation flared in his tone, accusing him, but it was my fault mainly, not his.

"It's not like that, let me explain," Nikolas said but Dad didn't want to listen to logic now.

"I don't want your explanation," Dad's voice dropped, each word laced with a dangerous edge that sent a shiver down my spine. "But I want you to keep one fucking thing in your mind, Nikolas," he continued, his tone now lethal, seething with barely contained rage. "Max is my son," Furiously, he added, "Don't you ever forget that!"

The air crackled with tension, suffocating and thick. My chest tightened with a mix of confusion and guilt, and my legs moved before I could think, carrying me out of the bunker.

I paused next to my car. The cold night air hit me like a slap, whipping through my hair and biting at my skin, a stark contrast to the inferno raging within me, the one that refused to be extinguished.

I didn't wait for too long, just a few minutes later, I heard footsteps approaching. My head snapped up, and I saw Dad making his way to his car. The sound of the it unlocking echoed sharply in the night air. "Get in," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"But my car is here—"

"Get in, I said." The finality in his tone made it clear there was no point in arguing. Without waiting for my response, he slid into the driver's seat, expecting me to follow. Frustration and anxiety churned in my gut as I left my car behind and opened the passenger door of his, slipping inside.

The second the door clicked shut, Dad was speeding down the road. I sank into the seat, my elbow propped against the door as I covered my mouth, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery. My mind raced with how to explain everything—going to Nikolas for help, training with him, attacking David, and the lies I'd spun to keep it all hidden. I knew he wouldn't like any of it.

The silence stretched on, unbearable. Finally, I broke it, I tore my gaze away from the window and turned to him, "Aren't you going to say something?"

If possible, his fingers tightened further over the wheel at my words, his knuckles turning white, the muscle of his jaw ticking, about to explode.

"I was the one to ask him not to tell you," I added. The last thing I wanted was for them to fight because of me.

Dad's eyes remained fixed on the road, the anger in his silence more palpable than any words could convey as he pressed his feet harder over the gas pedal, speeding down the highway.

He wanted silence so I gave him that, keeping my mouth shut till we reached home.

He parked the car outside, but neither of us moved. The silence hung heavy, thick with unspoken words. I waited, hoping he'd say something, anything. The tension was unbearable, so I broke the quiet once again.

"I know you're mad that I went to him for help—"

"That's not why I'm mad," he cut me off, his voice sharp, his gaze locking onto mine with a ferocity that made my breath catch.

"I was the one who wanted you two to mend things between one another, so no, I am not mad because you went for him to get help," He said, "I am fucking enraged because you and your sister, you both keep going back to the world I tried so hard to get you out of!"

"That's not what I am doing," I tried to explain.

"It's exactly what you're doing!" he shot back, his voice rising with each word, the frustration rolling off him in waves. "I didn't do everything just for you to get sucked back into that life. I've told you before, and I'll say it again—I won't let you become a part of the world Nikolas is from. You saw what happened not that long ago, you almost died because of that life, Max!"

"But that's not it—"

"It is, okay? It is. It always starts like this, Max. You dip your toes in, thinking it's just a little taste, but before you know it, you're drowning with no way out." He shot back, "What were you expecting to do? To go after that guy and what? Kill him? Is that what you want?" He added, his voice bellowing into the interior of the car, "Become a killer? Because you think it's just so damn easy to take a life away? You're thinking Nikolas does it, so what's the worst thing that could happen, right."

My fists clenched over my thighs, the agitation in my body manifesting in the relentless tapping of my foot against the floor. The anger boiled inside me, rising like a tidal wave, threatening to crash over everything.

"I wasn't going to do that," I grated out, but the tension in my voice betrayed me, the tapping of my foot only growing more frantic.

Dad scoffed, "You might have Nikolas fooled, because he is weak when it comes to you, but not me, Max. You are my son, I know you, I know what you are thinking about," He said, "I know exactly why you want to be trained, I know why you are getting closer to Nikolas, trying to get into his mind, see his way and learn from him."

The tapping of my foot intensified, and I felt like I was about to break if he kept on talking, "You are pretending to warm up to him, just so he'd let you in, you want to know how he does it, how he thinks, so you'd do it in the same exact way."

"I know that your plan is to go after that David guy all on your own and kill him, isn't it?"

I shoved the door open and stumbled outside, running away from the truth he figured out but he came right after me, "And that's why you went for Nikolas for help and not to me, because you knew I'd figure it out in a heartbeat," He added as I rushed toward the door's entrance.

I spun around, my jaw clenched so tightly it ached, my heart hammering in my chest, "He deserves to die."

"It's not up to you to decide that," he said.

My eyebrows pulled together in a mixture of anger and disbelief, "It is! It is up to me!" I shot back, accusation flared in my tone, "Isn't that what you did? When Mom got hurt, didn't you do the same thing?"

He nodded, "I did, and I've had to live with that for the rest of my life, which is exactly why I won't let you do the same thing."

I shook my head, unlocked the door, and marched into the house, anger simmering at the edges of my consciousness, ready to split my head in two.

As I turned to head upstairs, desperate to escape before things spiraled further, Dad's voice cut through the tension, "Max, wait!"

I whirled around, "Look Dad, we are not going to see eye to eye on this, which is exactly why I went to Nikolas, because he does."

His jaw tightened and he shook his head, "I am your father, I am not supposed to see eye to eye with you on everything, I am supposed to protect you!"

His voice raised with a painful edge, and I could see Mom approaching us from my peripheral vision, "And that is what I've been doing since the first day you were born."

I nodded my head, my tone full of anger and mockery and everything I wasn't supposed to feel, "Well, now I am freeing you of that burden, you don't have to protect me anymore," I shook my head, "You don't have to, you're free, twenty years are more than enough."

Lines etched between his eyebrows, his angry tone dropping lower, "What are you saying?"

I moved closer to him, "I am saying what you are refusing to say out loud," I said quietly but with intensity, "Twenty years ago, you fixed your brother's mistake by raising his son. Well, you just don't have to do that anymore," The seething calm in my words erupted storms in his gaze, understanding fully what I was hinting on, "So, let's stop pretending, shall we."

Mom's voice broke through, "Max, stop!" Her eyes were wide, pleading as she tried to intervene.

I turned to her, "You promised you weren't going to tell anymore," I mumbled, my voice calm but accusation flared in my tone at how she broke my trust.

I averted my gaze away from her and pushed past Dad, my shoulder brushing his as I made for the door. The slam behind me was a final punctuation to our fractured conversation. Stepping out into the cold night, I let the chill wash over me, trying to numb the ache that surged with every step away from the house.

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Hey :)

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Whenever I say this story is close to the end, more trouble shows up xD

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