CHAPTER 17

The morning light filters through the curtains, soft and golden, casting a warm glow over my apartment. The city sounds hum faintly in the background, but inside, the atmosphere is quiet, almost serene. It’s a rarity for me to wake up without the usual rush of anxiety, but this morning, something feels different. Maybe it’s the lingering presence of Kieran’s company from the night before, or maybe it’s the feeling of being... seen, understood, in a way that I haven’t experienced in a long time.

I sit up in bed, my mind slowly coming into focus. The events of yesterday seem far away now, as if they happened in another lifetime. But the lingering effects of Kieran’s presence—the conversations, the unspoken understanding—still feel fresh, still echoing in the corners of my mind.

I can’t help but replay our time together, each moment, each glance, each word. It wasn’t a confession of feelings, not by any means. But there was something in the air between us, something that had shifted. It was subtle, but undeniable. I could feel it, deep inside me, like the first spark of a fire that could grow into something larger. But the uncertainty still hangs in the balance.

The soft ring of my phone breaks the stillness. I glance at the screen, and my stomach drops when I see who’s calling.

It’s Leo.

I hesitate for a moment before answering.

“Hello?” My voice is steady, though I feel a wave of discomfort wash over me.

“Marga,” Leo’s voice comes through, smooth but edged with something I can’t quite place. “We need to talk.”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. I don’t know why he’s calling, but I’m already preparing myself for whatever it is. “I’m listening.”

“I know things are complicated between us,” he continues, and for a second, his voice sounds almost apologetic. “But I think it’s time we cleared the air.”

Cleared the air? After everything that’s happened? I’m not sure I want to revisit the past, especially with someone who had a hand in hurting me. But I nod, despite myself. “Fine. Let’s meet.”

He agrees, and after a brief exchange of details, I hang up. I’m not sure what I’m expecting from this conversation, but the weight of it lingers in my chest. There’s a part of me that wants closure, that wants answers. But there’s also a part of me that wants to move on, to leave all of this behind and not look back. I don’t know which side will win.

I make my way to the café, the same one where Leo and I used to meet when things were simpler. The city is bustling, but there’s a strange stillness in me as I approach. It feels like everything around me is moving in fast-forward, while I’m caught in slow motion.

I spot Leo sitting at a table in the corner, his posture casual, but there’s an intensity in his eyes that I can’t ignore. I walk over, my footsteps purposeful but measured. As I approach, he stands up, offering a faint smile.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he says, his tone almost warm, but there’s a hint of something guarded beneath it.

I sit down, the chair creaking under my weight. I fold my hands in front of me, trying to keep my expression neutral.

“I don’t know why you called me, Leo,” I say, getting straight to the point. “What do you want?”

He hesitates for a moment, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup. “I wanted to apologize.”

I blink, caught off guard by his words. An apology? From Leo? It’s the last thing I expected.

“You don’t need to apologize,” I say, my voice soft but firm. “You made your choices. And I made mine.”

Leo leans forward, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that catches me off guard. “I hurt you, Marga. I know I did. But that’s not what I came here to talk about.”

I frown. “Then why are you here?”

He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I came to talk about Evan.”

The mention of his name sends a ripple of tension through me. I try to keep my face neutral, but inside, my stomach twists.

“What about Evan?” I ask, my voice a little sharper than I intended.

“I know you’ve been spending time with him,” Leo says carefully. “And I don’t blame you for that. He’s a good man. But I need you to understand something.”

I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“Evan is not who you think he is,” Leo says, his voice low, almost a whisper. “He’s... different now. There’s a side to him that he’s not showing you. A side that I know all too well.”

I swallow hard, my pulse quickening. “What are you talking about?”

Leo leans back in his chair, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’m not trying to scare you, Marga. But I need you to be careful. Evan’s motives are not as clear-cut as they seem.”

I try to maintain my composure, but his words sink in like a sharp blade. “You’re telling me this now? After everything?”

Leo’s expression softens, his eyes filled with regret. “I’m telling you because I care about you, Marga. I always have. And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I feel a rush of emotions flooding through me—anger, confusion, disbelief. But beneath it all, there’s a tiny seed of doubt. I try to push it away, but it lingers, gnawing at me.

“I don’t need your protection, Leo,” I say, my voice steady but firm. “I’m not a child.”

Leo’s gaze hardens, and I can see the frustration building in him. “I know you don’t need my protection. But you need to understand that Evan... he’s not the same man he used to be. I’m trying to warn you.”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “You can’t control who I spend my time with, Leo. And you certainly can’t control who I trust.”

Leo stands up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “I’m not trying to control you,” he says, his voice a mix of frustration and something else—something I can’t quite place. “I’m just trying to help.”

I stand as well, my gaze unwavering. “I don’t need your help. Not now. Not ever.”

Leo opens his mouth to say something else, but I hold up my hand, silencing him.

“I’m done with this conversation,” I say firmly. “Goodbye, Leo.”

With that, I turn on my heel and walk away, my heart pounding in my chest. The café’s sounds fade into the background as I step outside into the sunlight, the warmth of the day hitting my skin. But it feels hollow, like the air around me has thickened, and I’m suffocating in it.

Back in the apartment, I collapse onto the couch, my mind spinning. What did Leo mean? Was he telling the truth about Evan? Or was this just another attempt to control me, to manipulate me into staying away from him?

I don’t know.

But I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.

The doorbell rings, interrupting my thoughts. I get up slowly, not sure who it could be. When I open the door, I freeze.

It’s Evan.

His presence fills the doorway, his usual confidence tempered by something softer—something uncertain.

“I came to talk,” he says, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something unspoken.

I nod, stepping aside to let him in. The door closes behind us, and I suddenly feel the weight of the moment.

“Talk,” I echo, my heart pounding in my chest.

He looks at me, his eyes dark, filled with a quiet intensity.

“I need you to know something, Marga,” he begins, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Something I should have told you before.”

I swallow hard, the tension between us thickening. This isn’t just a conversation. It feels like a revelation—one that could change everything.