Stella's breath hitched as Simon's words hung in the air, her chest tightening with an overwhelming mix of anger and pain. She yanked her hands away from his grasp, stumbling back a step. Her heart hammered violently, each beat fueled by the betrayal that had festered over the years.
"Safe?" she spat, her voice sharp and trembling. "Is that what you call it? Disappearing without a trace for four years? Leaving me wondering if you were dead or alive? And all you sent me were those stupid birthday cards?" Her voice cracked under the weight of her fury. "You think that was keeping me safe?"
Simon didn't move. He stayed on his knees, watching her as the storm within her broke free.
"You know everything about me," she said, her voice rising. "You know about my parents—my dead parents, Simon. You know about Mal, about every single person who matters to me. But me?" She stepped closer, pointing a trembling finger at him. "I don't know a single thing about you. Nothing. Except your name."
Her eyes glistened, but she refused to let the tears fall. "Tell me, Simon. How is trust supposed to be built on that? Because I'm not that naïve, lovestruck 18-year-old girl anymore."
Simon's lips parted as if to say something, but he stopped himself. His silence only fueled her rage.
"Who are you, Simon? Tell me!" she demanded, her voice breaking under the weight of her emotions. "Are you my boyfriend? My savior? My friend? My enemy?" Her words hung in the air, bitter and raw. "You don't even know who you are to me. So how dare you tell me you were keeping me safe? None of this makes sense—not this island, not you."
She shook her head, stepping back again. Her voice softened, but it was laced with exhaustion. "So, please... I'm begging you. Let me go. Whatever we had... it's in the past. Let it stay there."
For a moment, silence filled the room, heavy and oppressive. That's when she noticed it—his eyes.
They weren't the familiar warm shade she remembered. They had turned crimson, glowing with a fury that sent a chill down her spine. The muscles in his jaw tightened as he stood, towering over her, his presence suddenly more menacing.
"Simon..." she whispered, her voice trembling, as a new wave of fear coursed through her.
His voice, when he finally spoke, was low and controlled, but the underlying edge was impossible to miss. "You don't understand, Stella. You never did. That's why I couldn't let you go then... and I won't let you go now."
Stella's eyes burned with anger, her breathing uneven as she glared at him. "It doesn't matter anymore!" she snapped. "I didn't understand? Like a mad girl, I waited for you! I waited, Simon. Even after I found out you were a vampire—after I realized the kind of danger that brought into my life—I still trusted you. I believed you'd come back."
She took a step closer, her fury eclipsing her fear. "And what did I get for it? A birthday card every year? And then, when I finally heard from you, all you had to say was, 'Stella, I'm killing sirens to keep you safe.' Do you think that made any sense?"
Simon clenched his jaw but didn't interrupt her.
"I trusted you, Simon," she continued, her voice trembling. "I even thought Rocco might know where you were. But no—you hid. From everyone."
Her words struck a nerve, and she saw the flicker of guilt in his eyes before she pushed further. "You said you left to find answers. Fine. Did you find them, Simon? Did you find the people trying to kill me? Did you find the Siren of Cosmos?" Her voice rose with every word until she was shouting, the pain she'd buried for years spilling out like a dam breaking. "Answer me!"
Done with her fury, Simon's composure finally snapped. He stepped forward and grabbed her by the arms, pulling her close. His grip was firm but not cruel, his crimson eyes staring into hers.
"Stella, get back to your fucking senses," he growled, his voice like a crack of thunder. "You want answers? Fine. I'll give them to you—but not like this. Not now."
Her lips parted as she tried to interrupt, but he didn't let her. "Think hard about why you're here, Stella. Three years, I stayed away. Three goddamn years. And every second of it was torture. I lost control of myself more times than I can count."
His grip softened, but his voice remained steady. "Those birthday notes weren't stupid. They were my way of reminding you that I'd come back. That I never forgot you. It's you who never understood what they meant."
Stella froze, her breath caught in her throat as his words hung between them.
Simon exhaled heavily, stepping back. "Both of us are angry. Both of us are hurt. But this... this is not the way."
Before she could say anything, he turned and walked away, slipping out through the back door and leaving her standing in the middle of the room, her heart pounding as silence fell over her.
Stella sank into the plush couch in the living room, her eyes drifting toward the vast expanse of the beach outside. The waves lapped gently against the shore, a picture-perfect scene of tranquility, but her thoughts were anything but serene. The beauty of the island was wasted on her; it felt more like a gilded cage than a paradise.
She leaned back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before lowering her gaze. Her chest ached with the weight of everything she had buried deep inside. All she had ever wanted was a normal life—a life without surprises, without the constant twists and turns that seemed to haunt her. She had dreamed of falling in love, of feeling the simplicity of being wanted and cherished, of sharing moments free of chaos. But her reality was far from that dream. The longer she stayed here, the more hopeless it all seemed.
It wasn't as though she didn't understand Simon. She did—more than she cared to admit. She had lost her parents, and that loss had carved a permanent scar on her heart. It had made her afraid of losing anyone else she cared about. And Simon... Simon was one of those people. He wasn't just someone she liked. He was someone who had known her parents, someone who had been a bridge to the memories she cherished so deeply.
That's why it hurt so much. The fact that he, who knew so much about her, had hidden so much of himself. It wasn't fair. How could he expect her to trust him when he refused to let her in?
She closed her eyes and sighed, her hands gripping the fabric of her jeans as if grounding herself. She wasn't planning to sleep—she couldn't even if she tried. Her mind raced with thoughts of escape, the gears turning as she considered every possible option. This wasn't an adventure to her. It was a nightmare. A prison disguised as paradise.
Her fingers loosened their grip, and her shoulders slumped. She wasn't ready for another whirlwind, another battle to untangle the mess her life had become. But as much as she hated to admit it, the thought of leaving Simon—of truly cutting him out of her life—felt like ripping away one of the few threads tethering her to her past, her memories, her heart.
The waves outside continued their rhythm, oblivious to the storm brewing inside her. She opened her eyes, staring at the horizon. Somewhere deep down, she wanted to believe there was still hope. That there was a way to make sense of all this. But right now, all she could think about was how to escape this beautiful, suffocating hellhole.