51

51
“Ana.”

His voice was behind me—closer now, steadier than I expected. I didn’t turn around. My breath came in short, uneven bursts, my fists clenched, my chest tight with something I didn’t have a name for yet.

“I said wait.”

“You lied to me.”

He didn’t respond. The hallway felt too narrow, the air between us thick with everything unsaid.

“How long?” I asked, finally facing him. “How long have you known the truth?”

Julian’s eyes flickered, but he said nothing.

“Elijah didn’t lie to me,” I said, and his jaw tightened instantly.

“He twists things,” Julian replied quietly.

“But did he lie?”

“He doesn’t tell the full story—”

“Answer me, Julian.”

His mouth opened, then closed. He ran a hand through his hair and took a step closer. “You’re not ready to hear it all.”

“Try me.”

He studied me. “You won’t believe me.”

“You’ve made it very hard to know who I should believe.”

Julian’s gaze dropped. “I did what I thought was right.”

“Right for me or right for you?”

“Don’t do that,” he said, and there was something in his voice—pain, maybe. Or guilt.

“You erased my memories,” I said. “Do you know how violating that is?”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. Because you’ve never woken up and wondered why your reflection looks unfamiliar. You’ve never questioned whether your feelings are real or just… convenient.”

He flinched. “Ana—”

“You took away my choices.”

“You begged me to.”

“I didn’t know what I was begging for!” I shouted. “You had all the information. I had pain. That’s not the same thing.”

His voice was low. “You asked me to erase him.”

“Elijah?”

Julian nodded. “You told me you couldn’t live with what he’d done to you.”

“And what had he done?”

Julian swallowed. “He broke you.”

“How?” I stepped toward him. “Tell me exactly what he did.”

He shook his head. “I can’t. Not yet.”

I stared at him, feeling the familiar ache rising in my chest. “Then you don’t get to decide if I stay.”

Julian looked up, his eyes heavy. “I’m not stopping you.”

“You say that, but every time I try to walk away, I feel you—pulling me back.”

His voice broke. “Because I love you.”

“Do you?” I asked. “Or do you love the version of me that forgot?”

He blinked, staggered by the question.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” I said. “I don’t know if my feelings for you are mine or the version you made me into.”

Julian looked like he wanted to say something—then didn’t. Instead, he stepped forward, slowly, like I might run.

I didn’t move.

“You loved me before he came,” he said. “Before Elijah twisted everything. You told me things I’ve never forgotten. Even when you did.”

“And what if I remember him?” I asked, trembling. “What if I remember loving Elijah?”

Julian’s jaw tightened. “Then I’ll let you go.”

I stared at him. “Just like that?”

His hands curled at his sides. “Not just like that. It would kill me.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that what we had was stronger than the shadow of Elijah’s ghost—but I didn’t even know whose ghost I was anymore.

“Tell me one truth,” I said. “One you’ve never told me before.”

He hesitated. “You were supposed to die.”

I froze.

Julian’s voice was raw now. “When Elijah turned you, it was meant to be permanent. He didn’t just want you. He wanted to make you something you couldn’t come back from.”

“And you… stopped it?”

He nodded. “I gave up everything to save you. My coven. My status. My immortality.”

My mouth parted. “What?”

“I’m not like them anymore,” he said softly. “Not really. When I bound your soul to mine, I made myself vulnerable.”

I stared at him. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I’d rather live one lifetime with you than eternity without you.”

Tears stung my eyes before I could stop them. I turned away, pressing my hand to the wall.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” I whispered.

“I don’t expect you to.”

“But I need to remember on my own terms.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be forced into another decision.”

“I won’t force you.”

I turned back to him. “And if I remember Elijah? If I remember wanting him?”

Julian’s voice cracked. “Then I’ll still love you. Even if you don’t choose me.”

The words hung in the air like a vow.

Neither of us moved.

“I need space,” I said quietly.

Julian nodded. “Take it.”

I looked at him one last time—at the man who had saved me, broken me, loved me—and walked away.

For once, he didn’t follow.

And that hurt most of all.