Chapter Eighty-Three

Chapter Eighty-Three
Rex stands before me, his expression frozen in stunned disbelief, the shock unmistakably etched across his face. His lips part, as though words are forming on his tongue, but I raise a hand slightly, silencing him before a sound can escape.
"No—please, let me speak first," I say, my voice trembling, though I fight to keep it steady. "I need you to hear this without interruption."
I draw in a shallow breath, forcing the words out before my courage falters. "I want to begin by saying that I am sorry. Sorry for the countless times I let you down, for the moments when my actions must have felt like betrayal. It was never my intention to hurt you. Believe me, Rex, I despise myself for every wound I caused you. I carry that guilt more heavily than you could ever imagine."
He shifts slightly, his mouth opening again to answer, but I cannot allow him—not yet. I step closer, my voice growing more insistent. "I love you. I have loved you even in the moments I tried to walk away. Each time I left, I thought I was doing what was best, for you, for us—but all it proved was how impossible life is without you. The distance only deepened the truth inside me: that my heart has nowhere else to go but to you."
My voice catches, the threat of tears tightening my throat, and I pause to steady myself. "I never meant to give up on you, Rex. That, I could never do. You are the one person I cannot, and will not, surrender. Whatever hold you have on me, whatever spell you cast, I do not understand it. But I know this: I have never fallen in love with anyone so quickly, so completely, as I have with you. You changed me in ways I cannot explain."
I stop then, afraid that if I speak another word, the emotion pressing behind my chest will shatter into tears before him.
For a long moment, Rex does not move. He stands there, rooted in silence, his eyes fixed on me with a weight that makes it difficult to breathe. His jaw tightens, as though he is battling between anger, relief, and something far more fragile.
When he finally speaks, his voice is low, unsteady in a way I have never heard before. "Do you think I don't know how much you've hurt me?" he asks, his words sharp but trembling with the rawness of truth. "Every time you left, I told myself not to wait, not to hope. And yet—I did. I waited because no matter how far you went, I could not let go of you."
He takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving mine. "Do you think love is so easily broken? No, Violet. It isn't. If you had killed me, I swear to you, I still would have found a way to forgive you. Because somewhere in me, I knew you would always come back."
His voice softens, breaking under the strain of his emotions. "You speak of not giving up on me—but don't you see? I never gave up on you either. Not once. Even when I should have. Even when I had every reason to." He exhales, a sound heavy with longing and exhaustion. "You are the one thing in this world I cannot surrender. Not the crown, not the expectations, not even my own pride can stand between us."
Rex's hand lifts, hesitates, then brushes against my cheek as though testing if I am real. His eyes darken, filled with something between desperation and devotion. "You broke me, Violet," he whispers, "but you are also the only one who can make me whole again. So if you mean what you say—if you truly love me—then don't leave me again. Not ever."
"I will not," I whisper firmly, shaking my head with conviction. "I spent an entire month rotting away in the place I rented, doing nothing but drowning in my thoughts of you. Day after day, I sat there, suffocating in silence, and then—Diego appeared. He found me, and he—"
"Diego?" Rex interjects sharply, his expression hardening. "Wait, you mean to tell me you never went to your family's home? You didn't go back at all? And Diego was the one who showed up?"
I swallow, nodding faintly. "I wasn't in the right state of mind to go back. I felt too low, too heavy. If I had gone home, they would have showered me with questions, pressed me for answers I wasn't ready to give. I wanted—no, I needed—a break from everything. And yes, Diego came. He spoke to me... he reminded me of what truly mattered, and somehow, through his words, he made me see that I needed you."
Rex's eyes narrow with suspicion. "So Diego called you, persuaded you, and suddenly you decided to come back? He must have done something."
"He didn't," I insist quietly, though firmly. "He didn't manipulate me. He only expressed regret. He told me he feels guilty and wants to make amends for all the damage he's caused."
"You don't know him, Violet," Rex counters, his voice rough with unease. "Not the way I do. I need to uncover what role he played in this before—"
"I already know about your uncle," I interrupt softly, my gaze steady. "I know what he has done. What I don't know, however, is the extent of Diego's involvement."
"My uncle?" Rex repeats, brows arching in disbelief.
"Yes," I nod slowly. "But what matters here is that Diego is at least trying to change."
Rex lets out a bitter laugh and shakes his head vehemently. "No. No, Violet. He will never change. I gave him chance after chance, countless opportunities to prove himself, and every time he chose betrayal over redemption. Now, out of nowhere, he wants to change? No. Something isn't right here—there's something else at play."
I draw in a breath, forcing my tone to remain steady though my chest aches. "I may not know Diego personally as you do. I may never have endured the pain he caused you, nor the betrayal you suffered at his hands. But—"
Rex cuts me off with a sharp wave of his hand. "But nothing, Violet. I am telling you that his sudden turn of conscience is not natural. This is not Diego being remorseful—it is Diego plotting. He is up to something, and I intend to find out what."
He doesn't let me get a word in. His eyes are locked on mine, sharp but searching, like he's trying to pull the truth straight out of me.
"Tell me what happened with my uncle."
I bite down on my lip, stalling, my mind racing for a way out. My tongue darts across my lips before I finally mutter, narrowing my eyes a little at him, "I think it's better if Diego tells you. It's not really my story to tell."
Rex's jaw flexes, his brows pulling together. "Then why even tell me that you know?"
"Fair point," I exhale, a little embarrassed. "I shouldn't have said anything—it just slipped out of my mouth."
"No," Rex cuts me off, his voice firm but not unkind. "You should tell me these things, Violet. Don't ever think you can't." He straightens, already heading toward the hall. "Come on, let's go to the living room."
I follow him, the silence between us stretching heavy, and I can hear the echo of our footsteps bouncing off the walls. When we finally reach the living room, he glances back at me, his voice softer this time. "Did your family not try to reach out to you while you were gone?"
"They did," I admit, nodding slowly. "But I either ignored them or told them I just needed some space. That I'd come back when I felt better."
His brows lift slightly. "Are they used to you being like that? Just... disappearing when you don't feel okay?"
I shrug, sinking into the couch. "Yeah. Since I was a kid, I've always been like that. I'd hide away for days, sometimes weeks, until I felt like myself again. It's... kind of my coping thing, I guess."
Rex sits across from me, still studying my face like he's trying to understand every piece of me. "Actually?" he says, almost like he can't believe it.
"Actually," I say, a little laugh slipping out, but it's dry, empty. My fingers twist together in my lap, and I let out a breath. "It's not the healthiest habit in the world, I know. But sometimes disappearing feels easier than letting anyone see me when I'm a mess."