Alex POV
The night went silent when she said it.
Then stay.
One word.
One step closer.
One heartbeat too loud.
If I let myself move—even an inch—I wouldn't be able to stop.
Alisha stood in front of me like she always did when she mattered too much. Eyes steady despite the fear. Hands shaking despite the courage. She didn't look at me like I was dangerous.
She looked at me like I was human.
That was the problem.
"You shouldn't be here," I said again, but the words were weaker now. Fraying at the edges. "You don't understand what standing this close to me costs."
"I don't care about the cost," she whispered. "I care about you."
That did it.
Something split open in my chest—old, violent, buried deep. Memories I didn't invite clawed their way up. Blood on my hands that never washed off. Faces I never let myself name. Promises I broke just by surviving.
The people of the past.
The ones I hurt knowingly.
The ones who learned my name the hard way.
The ones who never forget.
They were quiet now.
Too quiet.
I saw Andrew's face in my mind without trying. The way he stood beside her in the daylight. Open. Safe. Alive in a way I stopped being years ago.
Jealousy burned hot and sharp—and I hated myself for it.
He could give her mornings.
I could only give her nights like this.
"You think I disappear because I don't care?" I asked softly.
Her breath caught.
"I disappear," I continued, "because as long as I exist near you, someone else is watching. Waiting. Measuring."
Her eyes searched my face. "Then let me choose," she said. "Don't decide for me."
I almost laughed.
Almost.
"You already did choose," I said quietly. "And that's exactly why I can't stay."
I stepped back.
Her hand shot out—fingers brushing my sleeve, barely there, but enough to wreck me.
"Alex—"
I closed my eyes.
If I looked at her again, I'd stay.
If I stayed, they'd come.
And if they came—
She would pay for my past.
"I'm not running from you," I said, my voice low, controlled, breaking anyway. "I'm running for you."
I opened my eyes.
She was crying now. Silent. Furious. Hurt in that way that doesn't scream—it settles.
"Please," she said. One last time. "Just… don't disappear."
I held her gaze.
Memorized it.
Then I stepped into the darkness.
Not fast.
Not dramatic.
Gone the way I always leave—
clean.
precise.
necessary.
Behind me, I felt it.
The exact moment she realized I wasn't coming back.
And somewhere far deeper than the night around us, something shifted.
Not an order.
Not a threat.
A decision.