WebNovels

Chapter 5 - Chaos at Night

He went to check the person ringing the doorbell while I remained frozen in place, my feet glued to the floor, my pulse hammering in my ears.

Then a voice pierced through the night.

"Ahce… see me!"

I stiffened. That voice... I knew it too well, yet I wished I'd never hear it again.

"Where is she?" he demanded, his words slurred, loud enough to echo through the quiet street.

"Ahce…" My name tumbled from his lips again, raw and desperate, pulling me out of my trance.

A harsh rumbling sound followed, like objects being shoved, kicked, or hit. The clatter jolted me awake. Without thinking, I rushed out of the house, my chest tight, and hurried toward the gate.

And there he was.

Patrick. My ex.

He was drenched, water dripping from his clothes, his hair plastered against his forehead. His whole body reeked of alcohol, his posture unsteady, but his eyes... red and wet... locked onto me with an intensity that once would've shattered my heart. Now, all I felt was nothing.

Cold, empty nothing.

"Why are you here?" My voice came out sharper than I intended.

"Ahce…" he croaked, taking an unsteady step forward, his hands gripping the iron bars of the gate. "I still love you. Please… come back to me."

The sight should have evoked pity, but instead, anger curled inside me, sharp and bitter.

"Go home," I snapped. "And never disturb my life again!"

He laughed bitterly, a broken sound. "Why? Is it because of him? Do you only love someone when they're handsome? You married this man because he's handsome, right?"

My breath caught. How dare he?

"You..." my voice trembled, but only with fury. "You have no right to compare yourself to him. You… are nothing!"

I didn't know why I felt so enraged, why every nerve in me was set ablaze by his words. It was strange, how much I wanted to defend a man who was practically a stranger to me. It was like a ripple disturbing calm waters, something hidden inside me rising to the surface, unstoppable.

Patrick's voice rose, loud and ugly, until the commotion caught the attention of the nearby security guard. Within minutes, two guards and a couple of neighbors rushed to the scene, restraining him, trying to pull him away as he shouted my name again and again.

"Ahce! Don't leave me! Ahce!"

But his cries only disgusted me further. I turned away, pressing a trembling hand against my chest, silently thanking the guards and neighbors as they escorted him out of Phase 2.

When the noise faded, a heavy silence settled. I turned back and noticed blood dripping from his hand, the man beside me, not Patrick. His hand was cut, probably from shoving Patrick away when he got too close.

"You're hurt," I whispered, my voice softening against my will.

He said nothing, only looked at me with unreadable eyes.

"Come inside," I said firmly, guiding him back toward the house. "Let me take care of that wound."

I fetched the first-aid kit, my hands steady though my heart still raced. Carefully, I cleaned and bandaged the cut. He didn't move, didn't flinch, he just sat there in silence, his gaze fixed on me the entire time.

And I couldn't stop myself from feeling it, the weight of his eyes, heavy, searching, almost pleading, as if he was waiting for me to remember something I had long forgotten.

"I need some time to sort things out in my life," I said at last, my voice trembling but steady enough to carry my words. "Marriage in our country can be annulled, but not divorced. I can't remember anything about you, and I'm sorry… but I need time for myself."

He didn't hesitate.

"I'll wait," he answered firmly, without even blinking.

"Why me?" I whispered, almost afraid to hear his answer.

His lips curved faintly, but there was no humor in his eyes, only an ache I couldn't explain. "Because I promised… you are my first, and you will always be my last."

Something in my chest twisted painfully.

"I don't understand…" I swallowed, the question catching in my throat. "The age gap…"

"Is just a number," he said softly, as if reciting something sacred. "That's what you told me."

My heart skipped a beat. "I… did?"

His gaze didn't falter. He stood there, a still figure in my living room, as though carved from my own past. I stared into his eyes, searching desperately for a memory, a name, a moment, anything.

I knew those eyes.

I knew them.

But no matter how hard I tried to reach for the memories, they stayed hidden, sealed behind a door in my mind I couldn't open. The familiarity burned and comforted me at the same time, and it frightened me.

He took a step back, his expression unreadable.

"I'll wait for you," he said once more, softer this time. Then he turned and left, closing the door gently behind him.

Silence filled the room like water filling a hollow vessel. When I finally moved, I realized I was trembling.

I went back to my bedroom, but the darkness there didn't comfort me. It only deepened the confusion swirling inside me, an emptiness that felt too vast to be mine. I pressed a hand to my chest, staring at the ceiling.

No one had ever stirred my heart this way before, not even Patrick, not even any of my past loves. This was different, deeper, heavier.

It felt like a story half-written, a chapter I had read once and then forgotten, only to stumble upon it again and feel my heart ache at the words.

I curled up on my bed, eyes open to the dark. Somewhere out there, he was waiting. And here I was, not even sure of the pieces of myself I'd lost.

The next morning, I left my home earlier than usual. My parents had just returned from their trip, but I couldn't bring myself to face their questions or their concerned eyes. I simply told them I needed to go back to school, and before they could protest or probe further, I was already gone.

The streets felt quieter than normal, though maybe it was only me, my head heavy with too many thoughts, my chest carrying a weight I couldn't define. I hailed a ride and gave the driver the address of the apartment I had hastily rented near the school.

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