Chapter 113 Shadows and Phone Calls
Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen
Valenticia POV~
The house was quiet after Natasha dragged Stefan out. Too quiet. I sat in the living room with my arms around myself, staring at the space he had left behind. My body felt heavy, my mind blank. I didn’t even know what I was supposed to feel anymore.
Part of me was angry at him for letting things get that bad. Part of me pitied him. And another part of me hated myself for caring at all.
The clock on the wall showed it was past midnight. I rubbed my eyes and leaned back on the couch. I hadn’t slept properly in days.
Grandma was supposed to come home tomorrow. The doctor had called earlier to say she needed to stay at the clinic overnight for more checkups. She’d sounded fine when we spoke in the afternoon, but I was still worried. She hated hospitals, and I hated that she was alone there.
I stood to get a glass of water when my phone rang.
The screen showed her name. Grandma Rosanna.
My heart skipped a beat. I picked it up quickly. “Grandma? Are you okay?”
Her voice came soft but steady. “I’m fine, child. I just couldn’t sleep. I saw the news on the television here. Stefan’s wedding? The fire? Tell me the truth. What happened?”
I froze. “You saw it?”
“I see everything, you know that. Now tell me. I can hear it in your voice. Something happened.”
I sat back down slowly and sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said quietly. “Talk to me.”
I walked to my room and sat on the edge of my bed. My phone felt warm in my hand. I took a deep breath and told her everything—the fire at his company, how he ran out of the wedding, how I followed him, how broken he looked when I found him. Then I told her about the bar, how drunk he got, and how I brought him here so he wouldn’t be alone. And finally, how Natasha came banging at my door like a storm.
When I finished, the room was silent for a while.
Then Grandma sighed softly. “You still care about him, don’t you?”
I pressed my hand to my forehead. “I don’t want to,” I said. “I really don’t.”
“But you do,” she said.
I didn’t answer. I stared at the floor.
“I just… can’t watch him fall apart,” I whispered finally. “He’s made mistakes, but seeing him like that—so lost—it hurts. And I hate that it still hurts.”
Her voice was gentle but firm. “Love doesn’t vanish, child. It changes shape. It can turn into something else, but it never disappears completely. You just have to make sure it doesn’t swallow you.”
I closed my eyes. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”
“I’ve lived long enough to know that caring for someone doesn’t always mean keeping them close,” she said. “Sometimes it means learning when to walk away.”
My throat tightened. I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m proud of you, Val,” she said softly. “For being kind even when you’re hurting. But promise me something.”
“What?” I asked.
“Promise me you’ll protect your peace. No matter what happens between you and that boy, don’t lose yourself again.”
“I promise,” I whispered.
I wiped my eyes quickly and forced a small laugh. “You’re supposed to be resting, Grandma. Not giving lectures.”
“Old habits,” she said with a weak chuckle. Then her tone softened again. “Go to bed soon, my dear. Tomorrow will be a new day.”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “I will. Get some rest, okay?”
“I’ll try,” she said. “Call me in the morning.”
“I will,” I said, smiling faintly. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, my light.”
The line went quiet. I sat there with the phone still in my hand, staring at the dark screen. My chest felt a little lighter, but also heavier in another way.
I was about to stand when a sudden loud knock hit the front door.
I froze.
The sound came again, louder this time. Three hard knocks.
I frowned and glanced at the clock. It was almost 1 a.m. My heart started to race.
Who could it be at this hour?
I stood and walked to the door slowly. “Who’s there?” I called out, but there was no answer.
I hesitated, my hand on the knob. For a second, I thought it might be Natasha again. But then I heard a quiet breath on the other side. Something about it sounded familiar.
I unlocked the door and pulled it open halfway.
My breath caught.
“Dimitri?”
He stood there in the dim light from the porch. His face looked pale, his hair messy, his eyes red and hollow. His clothes were wrinkled and stained, like he hadn’t cared about how he looked. He looked completely drained, his shoulders slumped as if carrying something too heavy.
For a few seconds, he didn’t speak. He just stared at me like he was trying to find the right words, but couldn’t.
“Dimitri, what happened?” I asked quietly.
He swallowed hard. His voice came out hoarse. “Can I come in?”
I blinked, still shocked. “Of course,” I said quickly, stepping aside.
He walked past me slowly, his steps uneven. I closed the door behind him and turned to face him again.
He stood in the middle of the living room, looking around like he wasn’t sure where he was.
“Sit,” I said gently, motioning toward the couch.
He obeyed without a word, sinking heavily.
I watched him for a moment, feeling my heart twist. He looked lost. Broken.
“Do you want some water?” I asked.
He shook his head weakly. “No.”
I sat beside him, unsure of what else to say. “You look terrible, Dimitri. What’s going on?”
He didn’t answer. He just rubbed his face with both hands. Then his voice came out low and trembling. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
My chest tightened. “It’s okay. You can stay here tonight. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out in the morning.”
He nodded, still looking down. His silence said more than his words ever could.
And for the first time that night, I wasn’t thinking about Stefan or Natasha. I was thinking about the broken man sitting in my living room, and whatever pain had brought him to my door.