CHAPTER TWO
The trotro ride to Medina felt longer than usual.
Maybe because May's heart kept beating in a rhythm that wasn't hers.
Maybe because every few minutes, she felt a sudden wave of emotion that didn't belong to her — a mix of confusion, anger, and that heavy emptiness Nathaniel could never hide well.
She could feel him.
It was subtle at first… like a whisper under her ribs.
Then it became undeniable — a tug so strong she found herself gripping her seat like the world had tilted.
The mate shouted,
"Medina! Medina last stop!"
May stood up too quickly, dizzy for a second. The bond wasn't letting her move normally; it felt like a thread inside her chest was guiding her like an invisible hand.
She stepped down from the trotro, heart racing, eyes scanning the busy station — hawkers, cars honking, music blaring from a speaker nearby.
Everything looked normal.
Except…
She could feel him close.
Her breath caught.
She turned to her right.
The old pedestrian bridge stood there — the same bridge she had seen in her vision earlier.
That was where the pull was strongest.
May swallowed hard.
If she went up there and saw him, what was she supposed to say?
"Hi Nathaniel, I know we're broken up but I can feel your emotions inside my chest"?
He would think she was crazy.
Or worse…
He would ignore her again.
But the bond tugged sharply, like a heartbeat pulling her forward.
She climbed the stairs.
Each step felt heavier than the last — not physically, but emotionally. Memories flashed with every rise: the silly arguments, the late-night talks, the times he held her like she was the only safe place left in the world.
At the top, she froze.
Nathaniel was there.
Leaning on the railing.
Head down.
Shoulders tense.
Completely still — except for the rise and fall of his chest like he was fighting something deep inside.
Just like the vision.
A wind blew across the bridge, lifting a bit of dust and catching her breath with it. She stood a few meters away, watching him, heart pounding hard enough to make her dizzy.
He hadn't noticed her yet.
But then… he stiffened.
He inhaled sharply.
Turned his head slightly — not fully, just enough for her to see the profile she knew too well.
His voice was low, almost a whisper carried by the wind.
"May…?"
She froze.
Had he sensed her?
Just like she sensed him?
Nathaniel turned fully now, eyes meeting hers — and in that moment, the bond tightened so strongly she felt it in her spine. Those familiar dark brown eyes widened, confusion flickering through them.
He wasn't expecting her.
He didn't call her.
He didn't even want her to come.
But something in him… recognized her.
He took one step forward.
Stopped.
Looked down, breathing unevenly.
"Why are you here?" he asked, voice strained.
May opened her mouth — nothing came out. The truth felt dangerous, unbelievable.
Because why was she here?
Because her soul dragged her across the city?
Because she could feel his pain?
He stepped back, avoiding her eyes, gripping the railing like he needed it to stand steady.
"You shouldn't have come."
Her chest tightened — not from his words, but from the sudden wave of sadness that hit her… his sadness.
And that was when she realized something that made her breath shake:
He felt the bond too.
He had been feeling her just like she'd been feeling him.
"Nathaniel…" she whispered, taking a step closer. "Are you okay?"
He shook his head quickly, as if trying to block something out.
"No. Don't— Just… don't come closer."
The wind blew again, swirling around them, lifting the edges of her top and his shirt. There was an energy in the air — warm, invisible, ancient — vibrating between them like the world recognized they belonged together even if he refused to.
Her voice trembled.
"You can feel it too, can't you?"
Nathaniel froze.
The air stilled.
Slowly… painfully slowly… he lifted his eyes to hers.
A truth lay in them.
One he couldn't hide.
"One of us," he whispered, "is supposed to survive this bond."
His jaw clenched.
"And it's not going to be you."
May's heart dropped.
Survive?
What was happening to him?
What did he know?
Before she could speak, he turned away — gripping the railing so tight his knuckles turned white.
"May, please," he said, voice breaking.
"Go home before this thing destroys you too."
But the bond pulsed strong and sharp inside her chest.
Whatever he was hiding…
Whatever danger he thought he was protecting her from…
It wasn't going to let her walk away.
Not now.
Not ever.