The sharp edge of his words trembled, barely holding together, and Maya felt her breath catch. He wasn't Ryan Bennett here, not the arrogant, sharp-tongued man who had once made her feel invisible with every dismissive look, not the one who had humiliated her with his cold words.
This was someone else. The man standing in front of her now was stripped bare. His shoulders still squared like armor, his jaw still strong, but his eyes, those dark, relentless eyes, were unguarded for the first time. And God, they were trembling.
His words still echo in her mind ''Tell me how I can make it right. I'll do it. Anything."
Maya swallowed hard. Her throat ached, as if all the words she had buried inside her wanted to claw their way out.
For weeks, she had told herself that if he ever came back with apologies, with excuses, with soft words, she wouldn't believe him. That men like Ryan Bennett didn't change. That cold people stayed cold, and whatever warmth she thought she'd glimpsed in him was only a trick of her own wishful thinking.
But standing here, his fingers trembling around hers, his eyes dark with something raw and pleading she realized this wasn't the same man who once hurt her. This was a Ryan she had never seen.
Her heart twisted painfully. Because what do you do when the person who shattered you stands in front of you, holding out the broken pieces of himself instead?
For a long moment, she couldn't speak. The city lights behind him blurred, her own reflection swimming in his eyes. His thumb brushed against her knuckles again, hesitant, unpracticed, and she realized he didn't even know how to touch someone gently. He was learning it now, with her.
He's different. He really is different. But could she trust it? Could she trust him? Her mind screamed to be careful, to guard herself, to remember every tear she had shed because of him. But her chest… her chest burned with something else.
She tilted her head, studying him. The man who once stood taller than everyone in the room now looked… small. Not in stature, but in spirit. His shoulders didn't carry pride anymore; they carried regret. Her lips parted, but no sound came.
Ryan's eyes flicked across her face desperately, searching for an answer. "Maya…" he whispered, her name breaking in his throat.
She blinked, her lashes wet, and for the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to look at him without hate, without anger. This isn't the man who made me cry in the hospital hallway. This isn't the man who mocked me, who pushed me away. This is someone else. Someone trying.
And for the first time, Maya felt the wall around her heart shift. Not crumble not yet. But shift. She exhaled shakily, her voice breaking the silence between them.
"Ryan…" she whispered. "You don't even realize it, do you?"
His brows furrowed. "Realize what?"
"That I'm not looking at the same man anymore."
Ryan froze. His breath hitched, his chest stilled. Her words sliced him open, but not with pain, with hope.
Maya looked down at their hands, her voice trembling but steady enough to reach him. "You're… different. And I don't know when it happened. But you're not the Ryan Bennett I knew."
She finally looked up again, her eyes softening. "That man… I hated him. This one… I don't know yet. But he's not the same."
For the first time, Ryan let out a shaky, uneven breath. Relief and disbelief tangled in his chest. And Maya, still holding onto his hand, thought, Maybe forgiveness doesn't come all at once. Maybe it comes in pieces.
Forgiveness. That word. Heavy, sharp, impossible, and yet, she saw this version of the man in front of her, trembling in his honesty, fingers wrapped desperately around hers like he was afraid she'd vanish if he let go.
Her lips curved. Small at first. Almost unwilling. But then she tilted her head, eyes narrowing, voice lighter than the weight of the moment deserved.
"So… does this mean you'll finally stop rehearsing at my doorstep every night?"
Ryan's eyes shot open. His jaw slackened. "You… you heard?"
Maya's brows arched, her tone teasing, almost cruel in its sweetness. "Ryan, the whole building heard. Do you think marble floors don't echo?"
He blinked. "I...I was whispering!" he argued, horrified.
Maya pressed her lips together, trying to hold it in. But the memory of the muffled words, the soft thud of him pacing, the half-choked "Maya, I....Maya, I'm sor....dammit, no, not like that," it all came rushing back, and before she could stop it, a snort escaped her.
Ryan's ears turned red. "Wait. You really listened?"
That did it. The sound broke out of her before she could stop it, a laugh, sharp and sudden, bubbling up past the tightness in her chest.
Her hand shot to her mouth, as if she could shove it back in, but it was too late. The laugh slipped through her fingers, spilling, breaking, turning into more. Her shoulders shook, her chest heaved, and tears prickled at her eyes again, but this time they came with laughter.
Ryan froze. Absolutely still. His brows lifted, his lips parting slightly, his breath caught in his throat. Her laugh. It had been so long since he'd heard it real, unrestrained, like the sound of something alive cracking through the night.
Her eyes were wet, but they sparkled through the tears, glowing with something that had been buried under anger for too long. And Ryan couldn't look away. Every muscle in his body pulled tight, his chest clenching then swelling like something inside him had split open.
This...this right here was the most beautiful thing he had seen in years. Not the forgiveness, not even the hand she hadn't pulled away from. Her laugh.
Her shoulders loosen. Her eyes lit up. Her face softens. He didn't even realize he was smiling softly, unevenly, aching. His fingers tightened almost unconsciously around hers, holding on like he might lose her all over again if he let go.
And Maya....God, Maya felt it too. That crackle of tension in the air, the fragile closeness they hadn't shared in years. It wasn't more than hands. But it was everything.
Ryan is still staring at her. At the sound of her laugh. At the sight of her shoulders loosening, her face softening, her eyes glowing the way they used to before he ruined everything. He couldn't breathe. His chest clenched, then lifted, as if something inside him had finally cracked open.
And in that moment, Ryan didn't see the Maya who had been crying alone. He didn't see the Maya who avoided him, who guarded herself from him. He saw his Maya. The stubborn, radiant girl who had once stood in front of him, fire in her eyes, and told him.
"You can't shake me off so easily."
And God, she had been right. He couldn't. No matter how much he tried, no matter how many times he pushed her away, his eyes devoured her like she was sunlight after years of darkness. Her laughter echoed into the night, and Ryan felt something he hadn't felt in years. He didn't feel empty. He felt full. Full of her.
Maya's laughter finally softened, tapering into little hiccups of breath. She swiped at her cheeks, still damp, still glowing. The air between them was different now, lighter, but humming, almost alive.
Ryan stood still, watching her as if she were something fragile and holy, something he had been forbidden to touch yet couldn't look away from. His hand was still wrapped around hers. She hadn't pulled away. He hadn't let go. Their fingers lay tangled between them, warm, trembling, unsure, but neither of them broke the contact.
For a long, suspended moment, they just stood there. No laughter now. No anger. Just silence, thick with things unsaid. Maya's breath steadied, though her chest still rose and fell a little too quickly. Her lashes fluttered once, twice, before lifting to meet his gaze.
And Ryan...Ryan looked like a man caught at the edge of something vast. His jaw clenched, then loosened. His eyes searched hers, dark and stormy but softened at the edges, like even he didn't recognize the tenderness flickering there.
He swallowed. Hard. His thumb shifted, almost unconsciously brushing against her knuckles. Maya's lips parted just slightly. The tiniest inhale. Her body tensed, but she didn't step back. She didn't reclaim her hand.
The night was quiet, except for their breaths. Except for the pulse he could feel hammering in her wrist, and maybe she could feel his, too.
It wasn't an embrace. It was just hands. Just silence. Just eyes. And yet, it felt like the kind of closeness that could undo them both.
Maya's gaze dipped to their joined hands, lingered, then flicked back up. There was no smile this time, no teasing quirk, just a softness, a surrender to the quiet. And then..
Buzz. Buzz.
The vibration of his phone cut sharply between them. Ryan's shoulders jerked. His free hand slipped into his pocket, dragging out the phone. The screen glared in the dark.
Kai. The name stared back at him, bold and cold.
Maya's smile faltered, just slightly. Her gaze dipped to their joined hands, then back up. Slowly, gently, she slid her hand out of his grip. Her face composed again, though her lashes lowered, hiding something in her eyes.
Ryan's chest ached at the loss of warmth, but his thumb hovered over the screen. He wanted to ignore it. God, he wanted to stay in this moment forever. He stared at the call for a second longer, the weight of reality pressing down.
But the spell was already broken. The night that had almost been theirs ended with a single name lighting up his phone.
And when he finally answered, the tension lingered unfinished, unresolved.