Chapter 35 THE KISS (Ethan’s pov)
Then, I turned away, dragging a hand through my hair in frustration. “Stop pushing.”
“I won’t until I get answers,” she said quietly. “Not anymore will I stay silent.”
I looked at her again...and something in her expression told me she was already pulling away. That scared me more than any accusation.
“Demilia,” I warned, wishing she could at least listen to me
“Why couldn’t you just be honest?” she whispered. “Why couldn’t you let me choose for myself for once?” That was it. The invitation I needed to stop her before things got out of hand.
I crossed the room in two strides and grabbed her. She gasped as I pulled her against me, my hands gripping her arms, then sliding to her waist as if anchoring her there. I didn’t give her time to react. I bent my head and kissed her really hard.
It wasn't gentle, nor was it tender. It was full of desperation.
I kissed her like a man losing ground. Like if I could just make her feel what I felt, she would stop asking questions that threatened to tear everything we've become within these few days apart.
My lips moved against hers insistently, demanding response, demanding surrender. My hands tightened at her back, pulling her closer, my body pressing into hers as if proximity could fix what words had broken.
For half a second...just half...I felt her soften into the woman who was gradually becoming addicted to me, and that gave me hope.
I quickly deepened the kiss, but slower this time, deliberate, pouring every unspoken emotion into it.
And then I realized... She wasn’t kissing me back.
Her lips were still beneath mine, staying passive and unresponsive. Her hands rested against my chest, not gripping, not pulling me closer...just there. Creating distance without force.
The realization hit like ice, almost shredding my heart into pieces. I pulled back immediately.
Her eyes were open, very clear and guarded. “Don’t,” she said quietly.
The word stopped me cold, and I wondered if I was the one being commanded in such a manner or not. “Don’t use that to silence me,” she continued. “Not anymore.”
Something twisted painfully in my chest. “I wasn’t trying to...”
“You were,” she interrupted. “You always do that all the time. When the truth gets too close, you reach for control.”
I stepped back, suddenly unsure of where I stood.
She wrapped her arms around herself again, her voice shaking despite her effort to stay strong. “I wanted to trust you. I really did my best to make us work. I thought maybe this time… maybe we were becoming something real.”
We were actually, God help me, we were.
“But now,” she continued, “I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
Anger flared from nowhere, sharp and defensive. “You think this was easy for me?”
“I think you chose yourself,” she replied. “Over honesty, over being real with me.”
Everywhere because silent like a graveyard.
“I won’t beg you for answers again,” she said softly. “And I won’t let you confuse me with affection when what I need is truth.”
She looked at me then...not with anger, not with love...but with distance.
That was worse than anything. The worst that I had encountered since I knew what love was all about. “I don’t trust you,” she finished.
The words settled like a verdict deep inside my heart.
I wanted to pull her back into my arms. To tell her everything that transpired. To burn the world down if it meant keeping her safe. Instead, I forced myself to remain still, to not do things that would complicate things more than they already were.
I need to be in control, as always. “I’ll give you space, for now,” I said.
She nodded. “That's good.” As I turned to leave, something inside me cracked completely.
Because for the first time, I understood the truth I had been avoiding all my life. I hadn’t silenced her. I had lost her because of pride. And this time, no amount of power could bring her back.
Demilia’s POV
“Don’t come any closer to me or this place ever again.” My voice shook, but I meant every word.
Ethan froze at the foot of the bed, his presence filling the room even when he wasn’t touching me. He always did that...occupying space without permission, breathing authority without asking.
“I’m not here to fight you this time,” he said. I laughed softly, but a bitter one. “You never think you are.”
The silence that followed was sharp, uncomfortable. He studied me the way he always did...like I was a problem to be solved, not a woman whose heart he had just shattered open.
“I brought you food,” he added after a moment. “I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten properly in days.”
“Then stop monitoring me, that would be a huge favor.”
His jaw tightened, but he still held himself together. “I’m trying to help.”
“No,” I said quietly. “You’re trying to stay in control as always.”
That landed really hard with him.
I saw it in his eyes...the flash of irritation, the reflexive urge to dominate the conversation, to step closer, to make me bend. But for once, he didn’t, I made it very impossible for him.
And that scared me more than if he had. “I don’t want you hovering anymore,” I continued. “No surprise visits. No pretending you care while refusing to tell me the truth.”
“I do care, genuinely.”
I looked up at him sharply. “Then why does it feel like everything between us is built on omission?” He opened his mouth to talk, then closed it again.
That silence...the exact type from before...was what finally sealed it for me.
“Please leave right now,” I said. His brows drew together. “Demilia...”
“Leave now.” My voice didn’t rise. It didn’t have to before I could get him to comply. It was final.
He stood there for a long moment, torn between force and restraint. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out.