Chapter 81: Scared.

Heading straight into his study, Steven lit a cigarette and took in a deep drag, letting the smoke swirl around him like a comforting shroud. He poured himself a generous glass of strong whiskey, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal his strong hands adorned with intricate tattoos. As he finally sank into his chair, he unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt and took a long sip of his drink, feeling the warm burn slide down his throat like fire. Calm washed over him temporarily, but the storm inside raged on.

Steven stared blankly at the wall, his thoughts spiraling into a maelstrom of confusion and hurt. His love had returned to him, only to slip away again. His heart clenched painfully, and his rage intensified at the world, at fate.

Inhaling deeply once more, the cigarette smoke formed a haze that mirrored his despair. "This fate between us... can't it have a little twist?" he muttered to himself, his voice heavy with emotion. Each sip of whiskey helped him forget, if only for a moment, the gnawing realization that he was caught in a cycle of life and death, love and loss.

A sharp knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts. “Steve?” Shane’s voice was cautious, almost hesitant. “Can I come in?”

Steven sighed, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “Yeah, sure. Why not?” He leaned back, attempting to appear composed, but the turmoil etched on his face betrayed him.

Shane entered slowly, glancing around to take in the cloud of smoke and the half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the desk.

"Someone with a hole in his heart doesn't seem to mind smoking," Shane shot Steven a disapproving glare.

"It's not like I enjoy it; I don't have a choice," Steven replied defensively.

"You don't have a choice?" Shane scoffed. "And what about the whiskey? You think drowning your sorrows will help?"

“What do you want, Shane?” Steven snapped, the weariness evident in his tone.

Seeing Steven’s weariness, Shane decided to approach gently. “Look, I get it. You’re angry. You’re scared,” he began, but Steven cut him off.

“Scared? Scared doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Steven leaned forward, fists clenched, frustration radiating from him. “My whole existence feels like it’s crumbling, and the worst part is, I don’t know how to keep the woman I love safe. She wants to sacrifice herself for me. How am I supposed to just stand by and let that happen?”

“By letting her do what she thinks is right,” Shane replied softly, though his expression was laced with understanding.

"You want me to stand by and watch her die for my sake?" Steven scoffed, incredulous.

"That's not what I mean, Steven," Shane responded, his tone firm yet gentle.

“Then make me understand what you mean,” Steven insisted, impatience edging into his voice.

“You can’t control her,” Shane explained, a hint of exasperation creeping in. “Dua is strong. She’s always been strong. She has a mind of her own, and she won’t back down just because you tell her to.”

“And what if her strength leads her to a path where she gets hurt or worse?” Steven’s voice dropped to a whisper, the weight of his fears settling heavily in the air between them. “I can’t bear the thought of losing her again.”

Shane leaned against the doorframe, his expression shifting to one of seriousness. “Then fight for her. Not by forcing her to stay, but by showing her that you’re there. Be her partner, not her warden. You both carry scars from the past, but that doesn’t mean you can’t build something beautiful together.”

“Easier said than done,” Steven muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “How can I possibly pretend to be okay with the risks involved? I feel like I’m already failing her.”

“No one’s asking you to pretend. Be honest,” Shane urged, crossing his arms. “You need to talk to her. Share your fears and worries. Let her see the real you, not just the guy who has it all figured out. Vulnerability could bring you closer, rather than tearing you apart.”

Steven closed his eyes, rubbing his temples tiredly. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do, but Dua…she just never listens.”

"What exactly did you do?" Shane's voice was sharp as he addressed his younger brother, his eyes narrowing. "If you're referring to the drama you performed in the bedroom, then I must confess, little brother, you've done nothing to resolve this."

Steven shot him a glare, irritation simmering beneath the surface.

"I can see your true intentions, but you're not expressing them properly to her," Shane continued, his tone more serious now. "You know what to do; just do it properly."

"And it was rude of you to say the thrash you said and just leave the room like that, leaving her in a pool of guilt," he added.

"Rude? It was the truth. She never listens to anything I say," Steven countered, his frustration mounting. "And why is she feeling guilty anyway?"

"Because she thinks you're mad at her," Shane replied, crossing his arms in a gesture of exasperation.

"Yes, I am mad at her! How can she tell me to love another woman?" Steven's voice raised in disbelief.

"She didn't ask you to love someone else. She merely pointed out the possibility that you might have to eventually, if she were gone," Shane explained, attempting to keep his brother grounded.

"It's the same thing! Why would she tell me that to my face?"

Shane sighed frustratingly. "You're over a thousand years old. Why are you still thinking like a child?"

Before Steven could shoot back another retort, his phone rang, cutting the tension in the air. It was his secretary. Reluctantly, he decided to focus on the call.

"I sent the file to your email, sir," she informed him.

"I'll check it," Steven replied curtly before ending the call. Turning to Shane, he added with a playful hiss, "I've got better things to do than duel verbally with you," and walked briskly out of the study.

As he entered the bedroom, he momentarily lost sight of his earlier frustration upon seeing Dua asleep. The sight tugged at his heartstrings; he walked over and gently tucked her in, his lips curling into a soft smile as memories of her stubbornness flashed through his mind. His hand moved to caress her face tenderly. "When will you quit being so stubborn?" he whispered softly to himself.

His phone chimed again, a frustrating reminder of his unfinished business. He stood to retrieve his laptop from the couch, but Dua held his hand, compelling him to turn back to her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her gaze drifting to the bed, the mention of past choices heavy in the air.

"Hey." He eased back down beside her, gently lifting her chin to meet his eyes. "I won’t lie; I was mad at you... but after watching you sleep for even a few minutes, that anger feels distant now," he offered a soft, reassuring smile that, despite his best efforts, didn’t seem to lift her spirits.

"You were right. I caused all of this. If I had only listened to you back then, we wouldn’t be in this mess," Dua admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was worried about you. You were married to the princess, and you had to fulfill your duty. Giving her the cure was the right thing to do. If you'd given it to me instead, people would have called you an adulterer, you know that! Your wife would have died for your concubine, and the royal family would have punished you, as well as the village. Your life would have turned to hell. I should have been the one my sister cursed, not you. You..." her words faded, like her hope.

Steven pulled her into a tight embrace, the weight of their history crashing down on him, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he felt the warmth of her body against his. "I understand you, but had I chosen to rebel against my father and not married the princess, I wouldn’t have been burdened with her fate. And I understand where your sister is coming from. She expected me to endure everything for the sake of my love for you," he said, his tone steadier than he felt inside.

"It’s good you didn’t rebel against him," she replied softly, a hint of gratitude in her voice.

"And that was all at the cost of your life," he interjected, the bitterness creeping back into his heart.

"But I’m back now," Dua asserted, her eyes glimmering with renewed hope.

"And I’m about to slip away," Steven replied, the reality hitting harder than he wished to admit.

Dua pulled away slightly, her determination clear. "I won’t let that happen," she declared resolutely, her voice unwavering.

“I told you not to do anything, Dua.” He rubbed his forehead in frustration, a weary sigh escaping his lips. “Please, let’s not go through this again. Just focus on spending time with me while I’m still here.”

Dua echoed his sigh, a touch of helplessness lacing her voice. “Alright, I won’t bring it up again.”

“Promise?” He raised a brow, searching her eyes for sincerity.

“Yeah,” she replied, a hint of warmth returning to her smile as she melted into his embrace once more. The familiar comfort of his presence wrapped around her like a soft blanket, momentarily easing the weight of unspoken worries hanging in the air.

As they held each other, the world outside faded away, and for that brief moment, they were just two souls existing in the present, no past regrets, no looming future, just the heartbeat of the now.