Ethan's POV
The house always felt big. But tonight, after she left, it was unlovable
Lyra didn't look back when she walked out, and I don't know why that tiny detail hit harder than anything she said tonight.
But it did.
More than it should, and more than I want to admit.
I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor like it owed me an explanation. The room still held her scent, citrusy, clean and warm. It was clung to the sheet, and it annoyed the hell out of me. It tempted me even more.
God. What have I done.
I should've let her go hours ago. I should've handled this with the same cold logic I use for everything else in my life. But the moment she stepped into my space with those wide, ocean,stubborn eyes. Something in me shifted.
Not because she was beautiful. Beauty doesn't faze me. I've lived long enough to know beauty lies, beauty breaks, beauty leaves.
She wasn't beauty, rather trouble.
A very specific, very dangerous kind of trouble. The kind that wraps itself around your lungs before you realize that you are losing air.
And the worst part? This girl spoke to me like she didn't know fear, and even worse, like she saw something human in me. Something I buried before she was even born.
I don't get that often.
I don't let people get that close.
I walked to the window, cracked my stiff neck and snapped my fingers. It felt like my forty-five years all weighed on me.
I was in a marriage which was more routine than intimacy. A life that feels stable, lively, inevitably perfect from the outside but hollow in the inside.
Then she came along, Lyra.
With her trembling voice and steady gaze, and her pain hidden behind her ribs like a secret she refuses to let break her. Her honesty was so dangerous, yet unintentional.
But Lyra made me feel aware. She didn't flinch when I touched her. Didn't pull back when I tucked her hair behind her ear and she didn't run when she saw the parts of me I never let anyone see.
Instead, she leaned in. Like she didn't know she was waking something in me that should've stayed asleep.
And God help me.
The moment she flinched earlier, it was barely like a reflex, just a ghost of memory she clearly hates herself for and something inside me tightened. It wasn't guilt, I've felt guilt before. And this wasn't it pity, because I don't pity people.
This was something else, something darker, and more protective. And I had no business feeling for a girl her age.
I stroked my jaw with frustration"She's just a girl," I said to myself.
But even I know that's not the whole truth.
Girls don't spark my temper and calm it in the same breath, don't stare at me like they're trying to read my soul, and don't make me want to explain myself.
But Lyra did.
And she didn't even know it yet.
Damn her.
She didn't kiss me like she was trying to impress. No, it felt more like someone starved for affection, someone desperate to feel safe for once in her life. And I replied with a hunger I kept for years.
When she held onto me, moved with me, lost herself in the moment for me. I crossed every boundary I once set.
She made me feel alive again, and I didn't care about anything else. I didn't care about the age, morality, judgement or even the consequences.
I sat down again, staring at the door she disappeared through. The silence she left behind felt wrong. It was heavy, uncomfortable, intrusive. I never cared about silence before. I live in it and I rule in it.
But silence with her gone? It bothered me.
I shouldn't have snapped out of it. Shouldn't have let irritation bleed through my voice. But watching her cry and still watching her try not to. It did something to me, something I'm not used to. Something I'm not trained to handle.
I've survived betrayals, heartbreak, business wars, losses, loneliness. Every ugly part of life that should've hardened me beyond repair.
Yet here I am, thrown off balance by a girl who was never supposed to matter.
I exhaled slowly, trying to get the burden off my chest. The ache I felt was embarrassing. For God's sake, I'm a grown man and I shouldn't be feeling like this.
She pulled honesty right out of me. My age didn't seem to matter, my walls cracked open.
I wanted to be someone better not for Aurora, not for Mason and not even for society. But for her, and I didn't care what anyone would say. I wanted to be with her.
I pressed my palms together, leaning my head forward as if the floor could answer the mess in my head.
I'm in trouble, I whispered.
I stood up, and paced around. Trying the drown the thoughts of her. My mind kept replaying her face, the fear she tried to hide. The way she hugged her arms, and looked at me like she wanted to trust me but couldn't risk it.
If she walks away for good, I trust that I'll move on. I always do. But something in my gut tells me she won't.
Life loves to play games with me.
And if she comes back, if she walks through that door. If she steps into my space again. I wouldn't dare push her away.
I know exactly what I'll do.
Not apologize, neither retreat, not act harmless.
I'll give her clarity. Tell her the truth behind my temper, behind the pull between us.
She deserves that, not confusion or fear. But the plain truth.
And maybe… just maybe… I want her to understand me before this turns into something I can't control.
Because I know myself too well.
Once I claim something and I decide it's mine, I never let it go.
And Lyra, she's dangerously close to becoming something I want to claim.
God help both of us.