EPISODE 21
ALTHEA
I shouldn’t have felt that.
That was the first thought that hit me.
Not the shock.
Not the humiliation.
Not even the fact that everyone was watching.
No— that.
The way my body reacted.
The way, for a split second, I forgot where I was.
Who I was supposed to be.
Who I had worked so hard to become without him.
It made everything worse.
It made him worse.
My fingers pressed hard against his chest as I shoved him back.
Not gently.
Not hesitantly.
With force.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
My voice cracked through the air louder than I expected, sharper than I planned—but I didn’t care.
I couldn’t care.
Not when my heart was pounding like this, not when my lips still burned like they remembered him.
Elias barely moved from the push.
Of course he didn’t.
He just looked at me—steady, unreadable, like he hadn’t just turned everything upside down.
And that— that infuriated me.
“You don’t get to do that,” I continued, stepping forward again despite myself, my hands shaking slightly at my sides.
“You don’t get to just decide—whenever it suits you—that you can walk back into my space and—”
I stopped.
Because if I finished that sentence, I might say something I wouldn’t take back.
And right now?
I was already too close to losing control.
“—and what?” he asked quietly.
That quiet tone.
That calm.
Like he wasn’t the problem.
Like I was overreacting.
It snapped something in me.
“And make a scene like this?” I shot back.
“Humiliate me in front of everyone? Is that what this is to you? Some kind of game?”
“It’s not a game.”
“Then what is it, Elias?”
My voice dropped this time, but it didn’t soften.
If anything, it got worse—more dangerous, more fragile.
“Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you just crossed every boundary I set and decided it didn’t matter.”
Silence.
Not the easy kind.
The kind that presses against your chest.
The kind that makes everything feel heavier.
“I wasn’t going to let you answer that,” he said finally.
A hollow laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.
“Of course,” I muttered.
“Of course you weren’t.”
Because why would he?
Why would he ever let me have control over anything that involved him?
“You don’t even hear yourself, do you?” I added, shaking my head.
“You’re still doing it. Right now. Acting like you get to decide what’s best for me.”
“I wasn’t deciding for you,” he said, his voice tightening just slightly now.
“I was stopping something that didn’t need to happen.”
“You mean something you didn’t want to see happen.”
That hit.
I saw it.
The flicker in his expression.
Gone quickly—but not fast enough.
And for some reason— that hurt more than it should have.
“Althea.”
Adrian’s voice came from my right, steady and grounding in a way I didn’t realize I needed until that moment.
I turned slightly.
He was already closer now, not invading, not overwhelming—just there.
Present.
“You don’t have to engage with this,” he said gently.
“You can step away.”
Step away.
It sounded so simple.
So easy.
And yet— my feet felt glued to the deck.
Because stepping away meant admitting this affected me.
Admitting he still affected me.
And I hated that.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, even though it came out too fast, too tight.
Adrian didn’t look convinced.
Neither did anyone else.
“Well, this is entertaining.”
Lucia.
Of course.
Her voice slid in like poison wrapped in silk, soft and amused and entirely too pleased with herself.
I turned slowly.
She was leaning back again, one leg crossed over the other, watching us like this was a show she had paid for.
“Not exactly the answer I expected,” she continued, tilting her head slightly, “but I suppose actions speak louder than words.”
My stomach twisted.
“That wasn’t an answer,” I said sharply.
“No?” she raised a brow.
“Because from where I’m sitting, it looked like one.”
Mira scoffed.
“Oh my God, Lucia, can you not?”
“What?” Lucia smiled.
“I asked a simple question. He gave me a very clear response.”
“That wasn’t his question to answer!” Aria snapped, finally stepping forward, her patience clearly gone.
“In case you forgot how this works.”
Lucia shrugged lightly.
“Then maybe she should’ve answered faster.”
That did it.
“Or maybe,” I said, my voice quieter now but cutting, “you should learn when to stay out of things that don’t concern you.”
For the first time—
Lucia’s smile faltered.
Just slightly.
But it was enough.
Enough to remind me that she wasn’t untouchable.
That she just liked to act like she was.
“Careful,” she said softly.
“You might not like where this conversation goes.”
“I already don’t,” I replied.
Tension snapped tight between us.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
Ready to break.
“That’s enough.”
Aria’s voice came down hard this time, cutting through everything like a final warning.
“Both of you. Stop.”
She turned to Elias next, her expression even colder.
“And you—what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Elias didn’t answer immediately.
For once.
Good.
“Because last I checked,” Aria continued, stepping closer, “this is my event. My wedding activity. And if you can’t control yourself—”
Her gaze flicked briefly to Lucia.
“—or your guest—then you can forget about being part of this.”
The implication hung heavy in the air.
Best man.
Gone.
Just like that.
“Aria—” Lucian started.
“No,” she cut him off.
“I’m serious. I’ve had enough of this.”
Silence followed.
Again.
But this time— it felt final.
Like something had shifted.
Irreversibly.
I exhaled slowly, the tension in my chest finally starting to feel unbearable.
I couldn’t stay here.
Not like this.
Not with everyone watching.
Not with him standing there like he hadn’t just turned my entire world upside down again.
“I’m done.”
The words came out quieter than I expected.
But they carried.
They always did.
Aria’s expression softened slightly.
“Thea—”
“I can’t do this right now,” I said, shaking my head, already stepping back.
“I just… I can’t.”
And for once—
I didn’t wait for anyone to stop me.
Didn’t wait for him to say something.
Didn’t wait for anyone’s permission.
I turned.
And walked away.
Each step steady.
Controlled.
Even though everything inside me was anything but.
I could feel it— his gaze on me.
Heavy.
Unrelenting.
Familiar in a way that made it harder to breathe.
But I didn’t turn back.
I wouldn’t.
Not this time.
“Althea.”
Adrian’s voice.
Behind me.
Close enough to follow.
Firm enough to stop me.
My steps slowed.
Then stopped.
My back still to them.
My fingers curling slightly at my sides.
And for a moment— just one—
I considered turning around.
ELIAS
She stopped for him.
Not for me.
That was the only thing running through my head as I stood there, watching her back, watching the way her steps slowed at the sound of his voice.
“Althea.”
Adrian didn’t raise his voice.
He didn’t need to.
And she stopped.
Not fully turning, not moving forward—just pausing, like she was considering him.
Choosing whether to stay or go.
My jaw tightened, something dark and unfamiliar twisting in my chest, sharp enough to make it hard to breathe.
“She didn’t stop for you.”
Lucian’s voice came from beside me, low and careful, like he knew exactly how close I was to snapping.
“I know,” I said.
The words came out flat, but inside, nothing about this felt controlled.
Because I had seen this before—not like this, not with hesitation—but I had seen her choose.
Just not like this.
The memory hit before I could stop it.
It was past midnight.
I remember that because the roads were empty—the kind of empty that made everything louder.
My thoughts.
My anger.
My mother’s voice, still echoing in my head.
“You don’t get to make choices like this, Elias.”
“This is bigger than you.”
“You will do what is expected of you.”
I had left before she finished.
Didn’t argue.
Because if I had, I would have said something I couldn’t take back—or worse, I would have listened.
The drive was a blur.
Streetlights passing too quickly, my hands gripping the steering wheel harder than necessary, my chest tight like something was closing in on me.
I didn’t even realize where I was going at first.
But somehow, I ended up there.
Her house.
I sat in the car for a moment, just breathing, trying to steady myself, trying to figure out why I came.
Because this wasn’t something I did.
I didn’t show up like this.
Didn’t let people see me like that.
But with her, that line blurred.
I stepped out, the night air cool against my skin.
Her room was on the second floor—I knew that.
Of course I did.
The window was closed, the curtains slightly drawn.
No light.
She was asleep.
I hesitated for a second, because this was insane.
Climbing into her room in the middle of the night?
Unannounced?
Then I heard my mother’s voice again, and suddenly this felt like the only place I could breathe.
So I climbed.
It wasn’t graceful.
My shoe slipped once, the railing scraping under my hand before I steadied myself, but I made it.
I tapped lightly on the window.
Once.
Twice.
Then a little harder.
Movement stirred inside.
The curtain shifted, and then her face appeared—sleepy, confused, hair messy around her shoulders.
She blinked at me, then her eyes widened.
“Elias?”
Her voice was soft as she pushed the window open.
“What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”
I climbed in without answering, brushing past her.
Because the second I was close enough, something in me gave out.
I reached for her and pulled her into me.
Held on.
Tight.
Like if I let go, everything would fall apart again.
She froze for a brief second, then her arms wrapped around me without hesitation.
“What happened?” she asked softly against my chest.
I didn’t answer.
Didn’t know how to.
So I just held her.
And somehow, that was enough.
Her presence steadied me, slowly, piece by piece.
The way she didn’t push, didn’t demand, didn’t force me to explain something I couldn’t put into words yet.
“You okay?” she asked after a moment, pulling back just enough to look up at me.
Her eyes were soft.
Focused.
Entirely on me.
I nodded once.
A lie.
But she didn’t call it out.
“You don’t look okay,” she said gently.
A breath left me, half a laugh.
“Yeah… I figured.”
Silence settled between us, quiet but not uncomfortable.
“Ice cream?” I said suddenly.
She blinked.
“Ice cream?”
“Yeah. Let’s go out.”
“At…” she glanced at the clock, “…two in the morning?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
Then she smiled.
Soft.
Real.
Effortless.
“Okay.”
I frowned slightly.
“That’s it?”
She laughed quietly.
“What?”
“You’re not going to ask where? Or why? Or if I’ve completely lost my mind?”
She stepped closer, pulling on a hoodie before looking back at me.
“I’ll go anywhere with you.”
Something shifted in that moment.
Because she meant it.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just trust.
In me.
And that was when I knew.
This wasn’t just friendship.
Wasn’t just comfort.
It was more.
And for the first time, I didn’t want to run from it.
I wanted her.
And I wasn’t going to let her go.
“Elias.”
The present snapped back hard.
My gaze lifted.
Althea still stood there, her back to me, paused between leaving and staying.
But this time— it wasn’t me she stopped for.
And that realization hit harder than anything else.