Amara rushed out of the laundry room, her breath uneven, her hands shaking. She didn't look back. She couldn't. If she did, she knew she would fall apart right there in his arms.
She walked fast — almost running — straight to her room.
She slipped inside, closed the door, and sat on the edge of her bed, pressing a hand over her chest, trying to steady her breathing.
Her eyes burned.
Her throat tightened.
She felt like she was holding herself together with shaking fingers.
The doorknob turned.
Her heart dropped.
Adrian stepped inside.
He closed the door behind him.
She stood immediately, wiping her eyes quickly, pretending she wasn't falling apart.
"Amara," he said quietly.
She looked away. "Please... just go."
"No."
Her breath caught.
He stepped closer. "You're not running from me again."
She tried move past him, but he reached out gently, catching her wrist.
She froze.
Slowly, he turned her around to face him.
Her eyes stayed on the floor.
"Look at me," he said softly.
She didn't.
He lifted her chin with his fingers — gently, carefully — until her eyes met his.
And he saw everything.
The hurt.
The fear.
The confusion.
The heartbreak she'd been hiding all day.
His voice softened instantly. "Amara... what happened?"
She shook her head, trying to pull away. "Nothing. I'm fine."
"You're not."
"I am."
"You're not," he repeated, firmer this time. "You've been avoiding me since yesterday. You won't look at me. You won't talk to me. You won't even let me near you."
Her breath trembled.
He stepped closer, his forehead almost touching hers. "Tell me what I did."
"You didn't do anything."
"Then why are you hurting?"
She swallowed hard. "I'm not—"
"You are," he whispered. "I can feel it. And it's killing me."
Her eyes burned.
She turned away from him, walking toward the window, trying to breathe.
He followed.
Before she could step away again, his arms wrapped around her from behind — a desperate, tight backhug that made her breath catch.
"Amara," he whispered against her hair, "Please stop running from me."
She closed her eyes.
His voice cracked — just a little. "Do you know what it feels like to be ignored by you?"
She swallowed hard.
"I couldn't sleep," he admitted. "I couldn't think. I kept replaying everything, trying to figure out what I did wrong."
"You didn't—"
"Then why won't you look at me?"
She didn't answer.
He held her tighter, his forehead resting against the back of her shoulder.
"Tell me," he whispered. "Tell me what I did. Tell me why you're hurting. Tell me why you're pushing me away."
Her hands trembled.
His voice dropped, raw and honest. "I can't fix it if you don't tell me."
She finally whispered, "I heard something."
Adrian froze.
"What did you hear?" he asked softly.
She shook her head, her voice breaking. "I don't want to say it."
"Amara," he murmured, "please."
She turned around slowly, her eyes already filling with tears.
And then she broke.
"I heard her," she whispered, choking on the words. "I heard Lyra confess to you."
Adrian's breath caught.
Amara continued, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I heard her say she liked you. I heard her say she cared about you. And I—"
Her voice shattered.
"I didn't want to hear the rest."
Her chest shook with sobs she couldn't hold back anymore.
Adrian's expression changed instantly — pain, disbelief, something fierce and protective all at once.
He reached for her.
She didn't pull away this time.
He pulled her into his chest, holding her tightly, his hand cradling the back of her head as she cried into him.
"Amara," he whispered, voice shaking, "you should have stayed."
She cried harder.
He held her closer.
"You should have stayed," he repeated softly, "because I didn't say any of that."
She froze in his arms.
Her breath caught.
Slowly, she lifted her head, eyes red, tears still falling.
Adrian looked right at her.
And for the first time, she saw the truth in his eyes.