Chapter 68 068

Chapter 68 068

Rayna
For a long moment after the chair slammed into the wall, I couldn’t move. In my defense, anyone in my shoes wouldn't even be able to breathe after they'd witnessed what I just did. I tried to get my body to react, maybe with a strangled cry or a muffled scream, but nothing was forth coming. At this point, it wouldn't be too far off to say that my entire body system had shut down and there was little to nothing I could do about it.

I stood there, frozen in the aftermath of his violence, my body still braced for something worse, another outburst maybe , a shout, or even a hand closing around my throat, but nothing came.

Zero didn’t advance. He didn’t retreat either. He simply stood there, rigid and burning, like a man gripping the last thread of his restraint with bloody fingers.

The silence pressed in again, different this time. It was louder and meaner in a way that just didn't feel right.

I opened my mouth to speak, to say something, anything, but no sound came out. My tongue felt thick, and useless, like it hadn't been used in ages, which was a big irony because I'd used the same tongue to call him a murderer.

Was that what had ticked him off? Accusing him of what he wasn't? Or maybe because my words reminded him of a truth he had no business with.

Whatever confidence I’d had moments ago evaporated, leaving behind the sharp realization that I might have pushed him too far.

That maybe I should have been afraid soone

Shit.

My hands started to shake. I tried to keep it in check and reel it in, but it was futile at the end of the day.

At first it was subtle, just a faint tremor in my fingers, but it spread quickly, crawling up my arms, and settling deep in my bones. My breath hitched, then stuttered. I tried to swallow it down, to regain some semblance of control, but my body betrayed me completely.

I sniffed once, then again and again and again

The sting behind my eyes burned hot and sudden, and before I could stop it, tears welled over, spilling down my cheeks in quiet, humiliating streaks.

God.

This wasn’t how I’d imagined this ending. I hadn’t thought my words would crack him open like that. I hadn’t expected the violence, the barely contained fury. I hadn’t expected to feel so small afterward. I didn't think my own outburst was going to end with me crying and shedding tears like a six year old child.

“I… I ” My voice broke before it even found shape.

I squeezed my eyes shut, shoulders curling inward as another shaky breath tore out of me. “I didn’t…” I tried again, softer this time. “I didn’t mean to….”

The rest of my words were drowned out by what I now realized were tears, my own tears no doubt. I was still in my own little bubble when something else caught my attention.

Footsteps.

I'd barely gotten time to make sense of it because the moment my eyes flew open I saw Zero was moving toward me.

His steps weren't fast, nor were they aggressive. He was slow and deliberate, like every step was a choice he was forcing himself to make. My heart slammed violently in my chest as he closed the distance between us, panic flaring hot and bright, but he didn’t touch me.

Not at first.

He stopped so close I could feel his presence, heavy and overwhelming. The air between us felt charged, tight with everything unsaid. I stared up at him, tears blurring my vision, my entire body trembling now.

“I didn’t mean to annoy you,” I whispered, the words spilling out of me before I could stop them. “I just… I needed to know. I needed you to answer me.”

“Your silence was only making things worse. I continued, sniffing more than I intended to. “You just refused to speak.”

Zero still didn't say anything, and my voice dropped even further, barely more than a breath. “Did I… did I push too hard?”

He still didn’t speak, but then, slowly, and almost hesitantly, he lifted his hand.

My breath caught painfully in my throat, as his fingers brushed my cheek.

The touch was so light it barely felt real, like I might have imagined it. It was warm and careful, as if he was afraid of hurting me, or of himself. My entire body locked up at the contact, every nerve ending screaming to attention.

He wiped the tear away.

Just one.

His thumb lingered there for half a second too long, hovering against my skin like he didn’t know what to do next. I stared at him, wide-eyed, with my heart thundering, and my fear tangled with something fragile and aching.

This was the first time he’d ever touched me, and somehow, it felt more intimate than anything else that had ever happened between us.

“I didn’t mean to,” I repeated softly, my voice shaking. “I swear.”

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and I almost lost it.

There was something in his eyes I hadn’t seen before, something raw and unguarded, and something that made my chest ache painfully. For one dangerous, hopeful second, I thought I’d reached him, that maybe this was the moment the wall finally cracked.

That maybe he was going to answer me. Instead, his hand dropped.

The warmth vanished instantly, leaving my skin cold and exposed where he’d touched me.

He turned away, just like that. With no explanation, no word, and no answer.

He walked past me, his steps steady again, controlled once more, as if the moment had never happened at all. As if he hadn’t just unraveled me with the simplest gesture.

I stood there, stunned, my cheek still burning where his fingers had been, my heart pounding in my ears.

And as the distance between us grew, one terrible thought echoed louder than any silence before it.

He’d touched me, and then he’d chosen to leave.