41

Julian smiles.

But his eyes—his eyes are shattered.

"Because you already left me once."

The words land like a blade against my ribs.

I stagger.

I search his face, but there’s nothing there. Nothing but quiet devastation, carefully disguised beneath that infuriating, practiced smile.

I hate it.

Hate that he looks at me like that.

Like I’m already gone.

Like he’s already lost me.

"Julian."

His name barely makes it past my lips.

He exhales softly, shaking his head. "Don’t."

My pulse is a storm beneath my skin. "Don’t what?"

"Don’t look at me like that." His voice is raw, but his expression doesn’t break. "Like you’re surprised."

I swallow the knot in my throat. "I am surprised."

His jaw tightens. "Then maybe you don’t remember as much as you think you do."

The air between us is thick, suffocating.

His fingers twitch at his sides. Like he wants to reach for me. Like it’s a battle not to.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he just stands there.

Still. Cold. Resigned.

I step forward. "Julian—"

"Do you know what it was like?" He cuts me off, voice quiet. "When you left?"

I freeze.

His gray eyes darken, something splintering beneath the surface.

"It wrecked me, Ana." His voice is calm. Controlled. But I can hear the storm underneath. "It destroyed me."

My heart stutters.

"You begged me to take your memories. To erase everything." His throat bobs with a swallow. "And then you still ran. You still left me."

I shake my head, dizzy, breathless. "I didn’t—"

"You did."

His words slam into me.

"You looked me in the eyes," he murmurs, stepping closer. "And you told me you’d rather be dead than be mine."

I suck in a sharp breath.

No.

No, I wouldn’t—

Would I?

Something inside me twists.

Because I don’t remember saying that.

I don’t remember any of it.

But Julian wouldn’t lie.

Not about this.

He smiles again, but it’s a ghost of a thing.

A flicker of something that used to be real.

"But I still found you," he continues softly. "I still brought you back."

My chest tightens.

"And this time, I thought—" His voice wavers, just for a second. "I thought maybe you’d choose me."

I can’t breathe.

Because he’s breaking.

Right in front of me.

And I don’t know how to stop it.

"Julian—"

"It’s okay." He exhales slowly, blinking once. Twice. "I won’t make that mistake again."

A chill crawls up my spine. "What does that mean?"

"It means," he says softly, "I’m letting you go."

No.

No, he’s not.

Julian doesn’t let go.

He doesn’t give up.

He’s always been obsessive, possessive, relentless.

And yet—

He’s standing here, telling me he won’t fight for me anymore.

A lump lodges itself in my throat.

I step closer, my voice small. "You don’t mean that."

His expression doesn’t change.

"Yes," he whispers. "I do."

And somehow, that hurts more than anything.

I shake my head. "You’re lying."

He chuckles, the sound hollow. "Am I?"

I search his face, my heart pounding.

"Julian—"

"I loved you," he says, and it’s not past tense.

It’s present.

It’s forever.

And that’s what destroys me.

Because I know he still does.

I know he always will.

But he won’t fight anymore.

Not after what I did.

Not after what I asked him to do.

I step back, shaken.

And for the first time in my life—Julian doesn’t try to stop me.