Chapter 28 The choice.

Chapter 28 The choice.
The house felt heavier that evening, as if the walls themselves had absorbed Nathan’s scrutiny and refused to let go. Selina moved through the dim corridors quietly, each step measured, careful not to draw attention. Every shadow seemed alive, every whisper of movement a warning. She could feel Nathan’s presence, even though he wasn’t in the same room, like a weight pressing against her from all sides.

Her phone buzzed. Alan.

Selina, we need to act tonight. He’ll probe too far if we wait.

Her fingers trembled as she typed back:

I know. But I can’t—he’s watching everything.

Then let him. Just follow my lead. Trust me.

Selina’s chest tightened. Trust him. Those two words had guided her into danger before, yet there was no other path she could see. She slipped the phone into her pocket and moved toward the back of the house, toward the service corridor that led to the side exit. Alan would meet her there.

Downstairs, the faint scrape of Nathan’s shoes across the floor made her heart lurch. He had been moving with his usual calm, measured pace, but Selina knew better. Every step was a calculation, every glance a test.

“Selina,” he called softly, and the sound made her pause.

“Yes?” she replied, keeping her voice even, steady.

“Where are you going?”

“Just… some air,” she said, forcing a lightness she didn’t feel.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she could hear the faint rustle of papers behind him. Then, finally: “Be careful. I don’t like surprises.”

The words were casual, almost polite, but they carried a cold weight that made her pulse spike.

She pressed on, moving silently through the corridor, to the door that led out to the garden. The night was damp, the grass slick from the earlier storm. Alan was waiting by the edge of the service road, car lights dimmed, engine quiet.

“You’re late,” he said, voice low, tension lacing every word.

“I had to… be sure,” she whispered, climbing in quickly.

Alan didn’t speak as he drove, the silence between them taut, electric. Selina’s mind raced with the memory of Nathan’s eyes, the sharpness in his voice, the weight of all she had done. Each mile they put between the house and the city felt like a small victory, but also a reminder of what she had left behind—and what she had risked.

Finally, Alan spoke. “He’s already piecing it together.”

Selina’s hand went cold against the window. “How do you know?”

“Rosa.” His jaw tightened. “She saw you leave yesterday. That alone is enough to make him suspicious. He’s already thinking about your movements, your habits… your lies.”

Selina closed her eyes, the tension in her chest coiling tighter. “Then what do we do?”

“We disappear,” he said simply, eyes on the road. “For a few days, somewhere he can’t reach you. He needs to feel that losing control is possible. And you… you need to feel free, even for a moment.”

She shook her head. “And if he finds out?”

“He won’t,” Alan said firmly. “Not yet. But you have to trust me. No distractions. No slips.”

Her pulse hammered. “And then what? When we go back?”

“Then we decide,” he said quietly. “Whether there’s a ‘we’ at all, and what kind of life we’re willing to fight for.”

Selina pressed her forehead against the glass, watching the city lights blur past. Freedom felt fragile, like glass in her hands, but for the first time in weeks, she allowed herself a sliver of hope.

“Promise me something,” she said softly, voice trembling.

“What?” Alan asked.

“Whatever happens, don’t let me face him alone.”

He reached over, brushing her hand lightly. “I won’t. Not ever.”

The car slipped into the night, headlights cutting through the darkness. Behind them, the Allen estate disappeared from view, but Selina knew that Nathan was already calculating, already waiting, already planning his next move.

And she understood, more clearly than ever, that the next time they met, nothing would be the same.

The countryside blurred past the car window as Selina pressed her forehead against the cool glass. Alan drove steadily, but his hands clenched the wheel with a tension she hadn’t seen before. Every mile carried them farther from the city—and farther from the house that had become a cage—but the weight of what awaited them when they returned lingered like a shadow.

“You’re quiet,” Alan said at last, his voice low.

“I’m thinking,” she murmured, “about everything we’ve left behind.”

He glanced at her, eyes sharp. “And?”

“I don’t know if it’s freedom or just… the calm before a storm.”

Alan’s jaw tightened. “Storms are coming either way, Selina. The question is whether we face them on our own terms—or let him dictate how we live.”

She closed her eyes, remembering the cool precision of Nathan’s gaze, the quiet menace behind every polite word. The idea of returning felt impossible, but leaving felt like stealing something she had no right to keep.

“Where exactly are we going?” she asked.

Alan’s lips curved faintly. “Somewhere no one knows us. A small coastal town, a guesthouse with no connection to the Allen name. We disappear for a few days, lay low, and see what kind of distance we can put between you and him.”

Selina swallowed hard. “And if he finds us?”

Alan’s eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. “Then we fight. But I intend to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

The drive continued in silence for a while, broken only by the occasional rumble of the car engine over uneven roads. The world outside was dark, mist curling over fields and low hills, the kind of quiet that made every small noise inside the car seem amplified.

Finally, they reached the guesthouse—a modest building tucked behind dunes, the sea crashing in the distance. Alan parked, and Selina felt a strange mix of relief and dread. Here, for the first time, she could breathe, but even the freedom felt tainted with tension.

Alan handed her the key. “Lock the door behind you. No one comes in or out without my knowing.”

She nodded, heart still hammering. “And Nathan?”

“He’ll notice,” Alan said simply. “But it’s enough for him not to know exactly where you are. For now, that’s all we need.”

Inside, the guesthouse smelled faintly of salt and wood. Selina set down her bag and walked to the window, watching the waves churn under the moonlight. It was beautiful, terrifying, and full of possibility—all at once.

Alan joined her quietly. “You can stay here tonight. Tomorrow, we decide the next step.”

She turned to him. “And what if he comes looking?”

Alan’s hand found hers. “Then we’re ready. But tonight… we survive. Just this night.”

Selina let herself lean into him, the tension in her shoulders loosening just slightly. For a few moments, the world outside—the lies, the fear, the relentless eyes—faded.

But even as she closed her eyes, the distant thought of Nathan lingered. The storm was coming, and it would not be long before they had to face it.

And when it did, nothing would be the same.