Chapter 73 Chapter 73
Chapter 73
Celine got home later than usual.
The house felt the same, yet everything felt different. Ariana had already changed and moved around the kitchen, talking about small things, asking how work went, complaining about traffic. Celine answered, nodded, even smiled at the right moments. But her mind was not there.
After dinner, she went into her room and shut the door.
She dropped her bag on the chair and sat on the edge of the bed. Her body was tired, but her thoughts refused to slow down. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling, replaying the same moment over and over again.
Ethan standing at her office door.
The way he hesitated.
The way his voice sounded when he finally said good evening.
She pressed her lips together.
She didn’t know why that moment stayed with her. He hadn’t touched her. He hadn’t said anything deep. Yet it felt like something had passed between them. Something unspoken. Something that didn’t need words.
She turned to her side and hugged a pillow.
She told herself to stop thinking about it.
“He’s your boss,” she whispered. “That’s all.”
But her heart didn’t listen.
She remembered his smile. Small. Careful. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to smile at all. She remembered the way he looked at her, not like a man looking at a woman, but like someone checking if another person was truly okay.
That look stayed with her.
She wondered how he was doing. If he was still in pain. If the burns still bothered him. If he had slept well since the accident.
The thought surprised her.
Why should she care?
She sighed and sat up.
Maybe it was gratitude. Maybe it was shock. Maybe it was just because he had been there when she thought she would die.
Still, it felt like more than that.
She stood up and changed into her nightwear, moving slowly, quietly. When she lay down, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
But sleep didn’t come easily.
Her mind drifted back to him again.
Ethan alone in his big house.
Ethan sitting in silence.
Ethan pretending he was fine.
She didn’t know why she imagined these things, but they felt real. She felt a strange pull in her chest, not painful, just unfamiliar.
“Get some rest,” she told herself softly.
Eventually, her eyes closed, but even in sleep, her thoughts carried his presence with them.
\---
Ethan got home and dismissed everyone early.
The house felt too large when it was quiet. He didn’t turn on many lights. He didn’t need to. He was used to darkness. Used to being alone with his thoughts.
He changed out of his clothes and sat on the edge of his bed.
For once, he didn’t reach for the pills immediately.
That alone felt strange.
He leaned back and stared ahead, his mind replaying the same scene he had been trying to avoid all evening.
Celine standing in her office.
Her head bowed slightly when she thanked him.
Her voice calm, but sincere.
The way she walked out without looking back.
He exhaled slowly.
He had wanted to stop her. To offer a ride. To say something more. But fear had stopped him. Fear of crossing a line. Fear of saying the wrong thing. Fear of wanting too much.
He lay down and closed his eyes.
Normally, this was the moment when the memories came.
The screams.
That nights.
The helplessness.
Her eyes.
His body usually reacted before his mind did.
But tonight was different.
The images tried to surface, but they didn’t hit as hard. They came slower. Less violent. He still felt unsettled, but it wasn’t overwhelming.
He turned on his side.
His breathing steadied.
That startled him.
He waited for the familiar jolt. The sudden rush. The panic that forced him to sit up, drenched in sweat.
It didn’t come.
Instead, his thoughts drifted back to Celine.
Her eyes.
Her quiet strength.
The way she survived and still showed up.
Without realizing it, his jaw relaxed.
Minutes passed.
Then something even more surprising happened.
He slept.
Not deeply. Not perfectly. But peacefully enough.
When he stirred later, it was from a dream, but it wasn’t the usual nightmare. His heart was still racing, but not wildly. No scream escaped his lips. No sharp fear dragged him back into the past.
He sat up slowly, blinking.
His hands were steady.
He looked around the room, confused.
This was new.
He rubbed his face and let out a small breath.
For the first time in a long while, sleep hadn’t felt like a battle.
He glanced at the bedside table.
The pills were still there. Untouched.
He frowned slightly.
“So this is possible,” he murmured.
He lay back down, staring at the ceiling.
Celine’s face appeared in his mind again, uninvited.
And instead of pushing it away, he let it stay.
Maybe the pills weren’t the only thing keeping him alive.
Maybe healing didn’t always come in bottles.
The thought scared him.
But it also gave him hope.
He closed his eyes again.
This time, sleep came easier.
\---
Miles away, Celine turned in her bed.
Her hand rested against the pillow, her breathing slow.
She didn’t know why she felt calm.
She didn’t know why his presence lingered even in her dreams.
But she slept.
And somewhere in the quiet of the night, without realizing it, two wounded souls found a little rest — not because of medicine, not because of effort, but because they had unknowingly stepped into each other’s lives.
Something had started.
Neither of them was ready to name it yet.
But it was there.