"I didn’t know you were capable of walking away from me," Rogan replied in a low, almost reflective voice.
I looked across the room at him, feeling the pressure of his stare. Maintaining a level tone, I answered, "There's a lot you don't know about me." "Maybe it’s time you learned."
For once, he had no swift reply as his lips squeezed into a thin line. His unusually calm demeanor, as though he were attempting to piece together a jigsaw he had been ignoring for too long, was unnerving.
Unspoken words that may change everything if either of us dared to say them out loud splintered through the air between us.
My fingers grazed the leather spine of one book as I turned back to the pile of volumes on the table. As the tempest inside of me continued to brew, I needed the diversion, anything to keep me centered.
The silence was finally broken when Rogan remarked, "I didn't think you'd actually go to Victor."
My hand was hovering over the book when I froze. "How did you—"
"I know you, Ava," he cut in, his voice suddenly more intense. "I am also acquainted with him. The dude is a master manipulator. It wasn't the truth, whatever he told you.
I shook my head and laughed a little. "Amusing. Victor said precisely that about you.
Rogan's visage darkened as a glimpse of something sinister appeared. "And you believed him?"
I looked him in the eye and said, "I don't know what to believe anymore." "But I am certain of one thing: I will never longer allow others to control my decisions. I'll do it my way if I'm going to discover the truth."
His jaw tensed, and I briefly believed he was about to dispute. But he just nodded instead. "Fair enough."
That's all—no rage, no demands for answers. Only two words, and they were heavier than they ought to have been.
The ensuing days were a haze of preparation and activity. To prevent my thoughts from going out of control, I plunged myself into my work and my life. I became increasingly aware of how much I had been holding back, waiting for Rogan to fill the voids that I should have done myself, the more I concentrated on myself.
I rediscovering aspects of myself that had been hidden under the burden of everything, going out more, and seeing people I hadn't seen in months. Additionally, I could always feel Rogan observing me when I got home, his eyes lingering like a question he was unsure how to pose.
With the sound of laughter lingering in my ears, I returned late one evening from supper with a buddy. I entered the house and saw Rogan seated with a glass of whiskey in the darkened living room.
His tone seemed casual, but his eyes were anything but. "You've been out a lot lately," he continued.
"I have," I said, removing my coat with a shrug. Actually, it's been pleasant. brings back memories of my former self before all of this. Uncertain of how to describe the predicament we had gotten ourselves in, I made a hazy gesture.
He studied me, leaning back in his chair. "You’re different."
"Good," I responded plainly, looking him in the eye. "Rogan, I've changed from the girl who used to wait for you to notice me. I am no longer she.
A change occurred in his face, a moment of insight that vanished nearly as fast as it appeared.
He softly said, "I never wanted you to wait," as though he were talking to himself.
"Maybe not," I said in a firm but gentle tone. But I did just that. I'll never make the same mistake twice.
We were silent for a time. Everything we weren't saying was weighed down by the quiet that hung between us.
I made the decision to stroll through the gardens the following day. The anxiety that had descended on the house was relieved by the fresh air. I was lost in my thoughts as I meandered along the meandering paths when I sensed footsteps behind me.
"I didn’t expect to find you out here," Rogan replied, breaking the silence for a moment.
He was standing a few steps away, hands in his pockets, when I turned around. He stared at me as though he had never seen me before, and there was something almost vulnerable about that.
"It’s peaceful," I said, wiping a lock of hair away from my face.
His eyes lingered on me as he nodded. "I used to come out here a lot after Aria... after everything."
I remained silent since I could tell he needed time to talk.
He went on, his voice husky, "I believed that the only way to honor her was to preserve her memory." "But all it’s done is keep me stuck in the past."
I looked him in the eyes, and the sadness in them made my heart hurt. "Rogan, you don't have to forget her. However, you also cannot continue to live under her shadow.
His face was raw as he took a step closer. "You're correct. And thanks to you, Ava, I can now see it. You've demonstrated to me what it means to stand up for yourself and to remain resilient in the face of adversity. In a sense, I should have seen you sooner rather than later.
The weight of his words settled over me, causing my breath to catch in my throat.
But before I could answer, the moment was broken by a sharp crack that reverberated through the air.
As Rogan looked around the garden, his eyes grew wide, and he took hold of my arm, drawing me behind him. "Stay close," he said in a low, urgent voice.
I stared after him, my heart racing. "What was that?"
"I don’t know," he said, clenching his jaw. "But we’re not alone."
I became aware that whatever was going on was just the beginning as the tension increased. And I felt prepared to face whatever came next—on my terms—for the first time in a long time.