I closed the door behind me gently, leaning my forehead against the cool wood for just a second longer than necessary.
Tomorrow night.
The words echoed in my head as I slipped under the sheets, staring up at the ceiling. I told myself it was perfect—an opening, a controlled environment, another chance to observe him up close. Exactly what I needed. Exactly what the operation required.
So why did my chest feel tight?
Sleep came in fragments. Firelight. His voice saying my name. The way his eyes had searched my face, like he wasn't just looking at me but through me. I hated that part the most.
THE NIGHT OF THE OUTING,
I stood in my room longer than necessary, fingers hovering over the fabric of my dress, heart doing that slow, traitorous thing it did whenever I thought of him. The house was unusually still, as if even the walls were holding their breath.
When I stepped into the hallway, Alex was already waiting.
He leaned against the doorframe like the night belonged to him—dark coat, calm posture, eyes steady but searching. Not rushed. Never rushed. His gaze slid over me, not greedy, not careless—measured, almost reverent.
"You're ready," he said softly.
It wasn't a question.
I nodded, suddenly aware of how loud my heartbeat felt in the silence.
Outside, the air was cool, the kind that wakes your skin before your mind catches up. The car ride was quiet at first—not awkward, just heavy with unspoken things. The road lights passed over his face in brief flashes, enough to remind me he was real, that this wasn't some fragile thought I'd imagined into existence.
"Do you trust me?" he asked suddenly, eyes still on the road.
The question wasn't playful. It carried weight.
"I think," I said carefully, "that if I didn't, I wouldn't be here."
That earned a small smile—one that didn't quite reach his eyes but softened something in his jaw.
He took me somewhere unexpected.
The bar was nothing like I expected.
Low golden lights. Soft jazz humming through the air. Glass and marble everywhere—clean, expensive, intentional. The kind of place where voices stayed low and laughter never got loud.
He leaned closer to me as we stepped inside.
"Stay by my side," he said quietly.Not commanding. Protective.
We shared one drink. Just one. Something light, bitter-sweet. Our knees brushed beneath the table, accidental but not really. The ambiance wrapped around us like velvet.
"I'll be back in a minute," he said, standing.I nodded. "Me too. Restroom."
The hallway was quieter. The restroom even more so—white tiles, mirrors too honest under soft light. I washed my hands, stared at my reflection a second longer than necessary, breathed.
That's when I felt it.
That awareness you can't explain.Someone else in the room.
I turned.
A tall man stood near the door. Too still. Watching—not casually, not mistakenly. Like he was checking something. Or someone.
"What do you want?" I asked.
He didn't answer.
The silence stretched. Thick. Wrong.
I dried my hands quickly and moved toward the exit, heart starting to beat faster—not panic yet, just instinct.
Then he grabbed my wrist.
Hard.
I froze.
"Excuse me," I said, pulling back. "Let go."
He didn't.
The air shifted. His grip tightened. His presence closed in, too close, too familiar in the worst way. My chest felt tight, breath shallow.
Something in me shut down.
The room blurred—not because of tears yet, but because my mind had gone somewhere else. Somewhere old. Somewhere buried.
Not again.Please, not again.
My body wouldn't move. Wouldn't listen. I wanted to scream, to fight, to do something—but I was no longer fully there. I was seeing him again. Years ago. The same feeling. The same helplessness.
Why are men like this?
The thought echoed uselessly as my vision swam. Tears slipped down.
His whole body smelled of whiskeys only and he really seemed messed up but why was my body like this. I should be able to knock him out but my arms and legs didn't listen to me.
He pushed me down to the ground and started pushing himself against me. And my tears only could flow down. It was happening again,not again.
I was so stuck in denial.
He threw away his jacket and then started sniffing my the strands of my hair.
"Uhmm, you smell so sweet,l really can't wait to taste you." He whispered pulling me up again.
At that moment,l felt like l wouldn't make it because,now l am alone, no body to help.
Then—
"Step away from her."
The voice was calm. Low. Dangerous in its control.
The grip on my wrist disappeared instantly.
I hadn't even heard him approach—but he was there now. Standing between us. Solid. Unmoving.
"Now," he repeated.
The man hesitated. One look at his face was enough. He backed away, muttering something under his breath before disappearing down the hallway.
My knees nearly gave out.
I didn't realize I was shaking until his hands were on my shoulders—gentle, grounding, real.
"You're safe," he said. "I've got you."
I pressed my face into his chest, breath breaking, the weight of memory crashing down all at once. He didn't ask questions. Didn't rush me. Just held me while the world slowly came back into focus.
He ran over to my side and wrapped his coat around me and then turned to the pervert,he jumped on him and started punching him from right and left and couldn't even look, because it was so brutal.
After completely ruining his face, he got up and then tooke me in his arms,and by the thought of him, carrying me in his arms,l couldnt breathe or even move an inch because maybe l would tire him up.
" Am so sorry about tonight,l didn't want this to happen. "
"It's okay,am all fine now thanks to you. Am very grateful." I said changing th gaze from him to the sky.
And he followed them looking up in the sky too, we were walking out the bar heading to the parking lot.
"Just like there are millions and millions of stars,there is always that one that shines out always in particular."
"Ohh aren't there all the same?..." Blurting to himself.
"I mean I don't think you can understand it now,but you will. Soon ." He replied faintly.
"But again thanks for tonight,l never thought you had this side of you, and l really feel horned to see it. "I thanked with a smile so bright that l felt my cheeks hurt.
" It's not that big of a deal. I feel like l am responsible for you now because l caused you abln accident that tampled with your memories. At least this is what l will make up for it."he then fixed the coat around me and then we got inside the car.