CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 39
Avah's pov
Weeks have passed, and I don’t know why, but this unease sits deep in my bones, heavy and unshakable. Like something dark and insidious has settled in my home, watching, waiting. Ever since I met Selene, something has shifted. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel it. A quiet invasion.
At first, I told myself I was being paranoid. That I was overthinking things. But my intuition has never been wrong before. I wish it were now.
Our compulsory dinners started getting further and further apart. Roman has been working late more often, his hours stretching into the night. We still sleep in the same bed, but I barely see him.
It started small. A canceled dinner here and there, followed by an apology and a promise to make it up to me. At first, he would reschedule for the next day. Then the next. Then not at all.
And then, there were the little things. Things I wouldn’t have noticed before, but now, they gnaw at me. The way he used to text me during the day, even if it was something as simple as Have you eaten? or I miss you. Now, hours pass before I hear from him. When I do, it’s brief. Short responses, no warmth.
His scent used to linger on our pillows, a comforting mix of cedarwood and something undeniably him. But now, when I wake up in the morning, his side of the bed is cold. Empty.
I try to ignore the ache in my chest. To pretend that this distance is just a phase. That I’m imagining it. But deep down, I know the truth.
Something is wrong. And I have a feeling I know exactly who’s behind it.
As I sit on the edge of the bed, lost in thought, my phone vibrates beside me. The sound jolts me from my haze, and I glance at the screen.
Unknown Number
A single text message stares back at me.
\[Location Attached\]
Come here and find out the truth.
My breath catches in my throat. My fingers tighten around the phone as a cold chill snakes down my spine.
The truth?
I don’t know who sent it. The number isn’t saved in my contacts. My instincts scream at me; this is strange, too coincidental and too deliberate.
I quickly press the call button, my heart pounding, but the line doesn’t even ring. Just a robotic voice informing me that the number is unavailable.
I try again. Same result.
A warning voice in my head tells me to ignore it. This could be anything. A prank. A trap. Something dangerous.
But another voice quieter, but far more persistent, urges me to go.
I spent the next hour pacing, my mind spinning. Why would someone send this? Who even has my number? Is this about Roman?
That thought settles like a stone in my stomach.
I stare at the message, my grip tightening around the phone until my knuckles turn white. My heart pounds against my ribs, a steady, uneasy rhythm that matches the restless storm in my chest.
The truth?
The word taunts me, pressing into the cracks of my already fragile mind. It plants a seed of dread deep in my stomach, twisting and curling like ivy around my ribs.
I should ignore it. I should delete it and go about my night like everything is fine.
But everything isn't fine.
I feel it in the way Roman barely looks at me anymore, in the growing silence that fills the space between us. Our shared dinners have become nothing more than memories, and even when he’s home, he’s somewhere else.
He used to see me. Now, I feel invisible.
At first, I convinced myself it was stress. Business. A temporary rough patch. But the distance between us isn’t closing, it’s stretching and widening into something unrecognizable.
Something is wrong. I know it. I feel it.
I try calling the number, desperate for answers, but it doesn’t even ring. Just a cold, impersonal voice telling me the line is unavailable.
My pulse spikes, frustration burning at the edges of my already frayed patience.
I throw the phone on the bed and run a hand through my hair. My entire body is tense, every nerve buzzing with unease.
What if this is nothing? A cruel joke?
But what if it isn’t?
What if this is the missing piece? The answer to all the doubt, the sleepless nights, the gnawing ache in my chest every time Roman walks past me like a stranger?
I spent the next hour pacing the room, battling with myself.
If I go, I might regret it. If I don’t, I might regret it even more.
My breath came in slowly, measured inhales as I grabbed my coat and keys.
I need to know.
I sat stiffly in the back seat of the car, my fingers curling around the fabric of my coat as the city lights blurred past the window. The air inside felt suffocating, thick with anticipation and something close to dread. My pulse pounded in my ears, each beat echoing the question that had been gnawing at me since I received the message.
What am I about to find out?
The drive felt endless, my mind tangled with memories and doubt. But when the car finally pulled up to the entrance, my breath caught in my throat.
This place…
The hotel stood tall before me, its grand entrance illuminated by the warm glow of chandeliers. A place I knew well.
The same hotel where Roman had given me my ring. The night he had made his promise to me.
I swallowed hard, pushing down the sharp sting in my chest. Was this a coincidence? Or was it meant to break me?
Steeling myself, I stepped out of the car and walked through the revolving doors. The hum of conversation and soft clinking of glasses filled the air, but it all faded into the background as I scanned the room. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I moved through the lobby, my eyes flicking over the elegant guests, the polished tables, the golden lights reflecting off the walls.
For a moment, I saw nothing.
And then, my gaze lifted.
The first floor.
I stopped breathing.
There they were.
Roman and Selene.
They sat together, secluded yet exposed, wrapped in their own world. Roman was leaning back, relaxed, his expression one I hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. He looked… happy. Genuinely happy. His lips curled into a smile....the smile. The one that used to be reserved for me.
And then she leaned in.
Slow, deliberate, claiming.
She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
No…
Something cracked inside me. A sharp, splitting pain that I couldn’t even name. My heart. My soul. My sanity. I didn’t know.
All I knew was that the world tilted beneath my feet, and suddenly, everything made sense.
So this was what he meant when he said he had work to catch up on.
Work was Selene.