Chapter 11: The Soft After the Storm

Chapter 11: Chapter 11: The Soft After the Storm Those words hit harder than any thrust. Harder than the pain. Harder than everything he just did to me. I froze. His arms wrapped around my waist from behind, his face buried in the crook of my neck like a child clinging to something slipping away. Like I was the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely. "Please," he whispered again, like it hurt him to even say it. "Don’t leave me." I didn’t speak. Because in that moment... I hated him. But I also knew he was bleeding inside, far deeper than anything I could see. His tears soaked into my skin, and his grip didn’t loosen. It wasn’t possessive anymore. It was scared and raw. He wasn’t the monster now. He was just lost. And I didn’t know what scared me more. The fact that I still wanted to leave... Or the part of me that was thinking of staying. The room fell into a heavy silence. Only our breaths filled the space. I lay still, pretending I didn’t feel the tears he had shed against my skin. Pretending I was strong. That I didn’t care. But I wasn’t heartless. And I couldn’t pretend any longer. I turned to him. He was already staring at me, his eyes red, like he hadn’t slept in days. I leaned forward without thinking, my lips finding his in a slow, lingering kiss. No anger. No pain. Just softness. I pulled back. And then he said it again, quietly, almost broken. "I’m sorry... Please don’t leave me." I looked into his eyes, searching for something anything that wasn’t obsession. That wasn’t pain. And for the first time, I saw it. Fear. So I asked gently, "Do you want to talk about it?" He stared at me like he was searching for the right words or the courage to say them. But after a few seconds, he shook his head. "No." I didn’t push. I didn’t ask again. I just let it be. That’s when I murmured, "You were rough with me earlier... it kind of hurt." My voice came out softer than I meant. Almost playful and tender. He looked at me like he hated himself for it. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just lost it when you said you wanted to leave me. I couldn’t handle it." Somewhere between that apology and his eyes, something inside me shifted. The resentment, the confusion, it melted into something I didn’t want to name, but it felt dangerously close to love. "I won’t leave you," I said softly. "But only if you promise to stop stalking me." Even as I said it, I knew I wasn’t angry, I was scared. Scared of how much I wanted him. Scared of the voice in my head tearing me apart. Scared that we’d never have a real chance... because of who his father was. He must’ve sensed what I was thinking. His voice broke through my storm. He looked into my eyes and said "I won’t come to you unless you want me to. I promise. And I’m not stalking you... It just happens. We keep running into each other. Like fate." I didn’t know whether to believe in fate... but I believed in the way he was looking at me right now. We talked. We laughed a little. We agreed on things between us. Like two people afraid to step on broken glass but still trying to piece it together. We reached a fragile understanding. And then, without saying a word, he leaned in and kissed me again. This time, it wasn’t desperate. It was slow, warm, and full of apology. And I kissed him back. We made love again, but differently now. His touch was gentle, reverent, like he was trying to say everything he couldn’t voice. I felt every part of him. And this time... I let him feel all of me too. When we both reached the peak, our moans tangled like soft music. No pain. Just release. Just breathe. He pulled me into his arms afterward. No words. And I let him stay. Because for the first time... I didn’t want to leave. And just like that... I spent the night at his house. Wrapped in the arms of the man I swore I’d never forgive. But somehow... I did. I must have fallen asleep in his arms, because by the time I stirred, the morning light had already crept in. I reached over instinctively but Evric was no longer beside me. Instead, there was a neatly folded note on the pillow. Good morning, take a shower and change into the clothes I left for you. They should fit perfectly. I’m downstairs, waiting with a smile emoji. A smile broke out across my face before I could stop it. That stupid smile emoji... I hated how much I liked it. I freshened up, slipped into the outfit he’d left, of course, it fit like it was tailored just for me, and made my way downstairs. But the smile I wore quickly faded. Even before I reached the living room, I heard chaos. Voices. Shouts. Something heavy was crashing. And then... his voice. "Tell him to stop calling me! Tell him I don’t want to hear a damn thing from him!" The fury in his tone made my heart drop. As I stepped into the room, I saw Evric sitting alone on the couch, his arms tightly wrapped around his knees, his hands clamped over his ears like he was trying to block out the world. He rocked slightly, his breathing labored, his shoulders trembling with each gasp. All the maids stood frozen. The guards didn’t dare move. No one approached him. "What’s going on?" I asked in a low voice, turning to the nearest maid. She looked at me like a frightened deer, her hands trembling. "It’s... It’s between Mr. Rogan and the Boss," she whispered, as if even the walls were listening. I blinked. "Evric’s father?" She nodded once, almost fearful to confirm it. The room was full of people, maids, bodyguards, even his assistant but no one dared to approach him. It was like watching someone unravel, piece by painful piece, and no one dared to put him back together. But I did. When I stepped forward, one of the guards moved to stop me. Evric’s assistant raised his hand, halting him. I approached slowly. "Hey," I said softly, "Evric, are you okay?" His breathing was erratic. His arms were still wrapped around himself like he was trying to hold himself together. I crouched beside him, keeping my voice low and calm. "Breathe in. Breathe out. Slowly." At first, he wouldn’t let me touch him. But the moment he heard my voice clearly, he looked up, eyes red, face twisted with grief and then he suddenly threw his arms around me. He clung to me like I was the only solid thing in his collapsing world. "It’s okay," I whispered into his hair, stroking it gently. "I’m here." I had packed my things. I was supposed to leave immediately. But how could I walk away after this? After a few moments, I turned to the maid still standing nearby. "Has he eaten anything?" She shook her head. "No, sir. I turned to Evric, brushing back a lock of his hair. "Do you want something from what they’ve prepared? Or should I make something for you?" His voice came out hoarse and quiet. "Cook for me..." I gave him a small nod. "Alright. I’ll be back soon." Two maids followed me into the kitchen. I paused by the doorway, glancing at both of them. "Do either of you know what happened?" They exchanged a look. Fear flashed in their eyes. Silence answered me. "It’s okay," I said gently. "I understand." As I turned to the stove, one thought echoed in my mind. There are two sides to this family. The one they show the world... and the one they hide behind closed doors. This should’ve been the moment I realized I needed to run, but instead, it made me want to know him more. To understand the layers he tried so hard to hide. His pain didn’t push me away, it drew me in deeper. If anything, it made me want to stay. Not just out of sympathy, but because I wanted to be the calm in his storm. His comfort in the madness. Even when his voice trembled with rage and heartbreak, I still craved him, not to escape, but to understand him. To know what haunted him. And maybe... just maybe, help him heal.