Chapter 12: The Night I Almost Let Go
The rain didn't stop when Lucien walked away.
It followed me home, soaked into my clothes, clung to my skin like it refused to be shaken off. By the time I stepped inside the house, my hands were shaking, not from the cold, but from the weight of everything I hadn't said.
The house was too quiet.
I dropped my bag by the door and stood there for a long moment, listening to my own breathing. It sounded uneven, unfamiliar. Like I was borrowing someone else's lungs.
I went to my room and shut the door, leaning against it as if it might collapse without my weight holding it in place. Slowly, I slid down until I was sitting on the floor, knees pulled to my chest.
This was supposed to be temporary.
That was what everyone said when this marriage began. Temporary arrangement. Temporary sacrifice. Temporary distance between who I was and who I needed to become.
No one talked about what happens when temporary feelings refuse to leave.
My phone buzzed.
Mina.
You disappeared today. Are you okay?
I stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard.
I'm tired, I typed. Then erased it.
I don't know how to stop hurting, I typed next. Then erased that too.
In the end, I didn't reply.
I curled up on the bed, still wearing Lucien's coat. It smelled faintly of him, clean and subtle, like quiet confidence. I pressed my face into the fabric and finally let myself cry the way I hadn't in weeks.
Ugly. Loud. Uncontrolled.
I cried for the girl I was before contracts and cameras. For the boy who learned to measure love in consequences. For a future that kept splitting every time I reached for it.
At some point, exhaustion dragged me under.
I dreamed of a different life.
In it, Lucien and I met by accident. No contracts. No family pressure. Just two strangers in a crowded café, laughing over spilled coffee. He smiled at me like I was a surprise, not a responsibility.
I woke up choking on tears.
It was past midnight when I heard the door open.
Soft footsteps. Familiar ones.
My heart leapt before my mind could stop it.
I sat up just as Lucien appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable, eyes shadowed with exhaustion.
"You're back," I said stupidly.
"Yes," he replied.
Silence stretched between us.
"I didn't mean to wake you," he added.
"I wasn't sleeping," I admitted.
He nodded slowly, then noticed the coat around my shoulders. Something flickered in his eyes.
"I should take that back," he said, but he didn't move.
"Don't," I whispered.
He stepped into the room anyway, stopping a few feet away like an invisible line held him back.
"I made a decision tonight," Lucien said quietly.
My chest tightened. "About what?"
"About who I want to be," he replied.
I waited, afraid to breathe.
"I can't promise this will be easy," he continued. "Or safe. Or approved."
My hands clenched into the blanket.
"But I can't keep pretending you're just a clause in my life," he said. "It's destroying us both."
Tears slid down my cheeks silently.
"I won't force you to stay," Lucien added. "If you want out, I'll make it happen. No retaliation. No consequences."
He swallowed. "But if you choose to stay… it won't be half-hearted anymore."
I stood up, my legs unsteady.
"You're asking me to choose," I said.
"Yes," he replied. "Freely. This time."
I took a step closer. Then another.
"All this time," I whispered, "you were afraid of hurting me."
He nodded.
"But not choosing is hurting me too," I said.
His breath hitched.
"I'm scared," I admitted. "Of losing you. Of losing myself. Of what people will say."
"So am I," he said softly.
I stopped right in front of him.
"But I don't want a life where I always wonder what would have happened if I was brave," I said.
Lucien lifted his hand slowly, giving me time to pull away.
I didn't.
When his fingers brushed mine, something inside me finally loosened.
He pulled me into a careful embrace, like he was holding something precious and breakable. I buried my face against his chest, breathing him in, letting myself believe for just a moment that this was real.
"I'm not letting go," I whispered.
"Neither am I," he replied.
Outside, the rain finally stopped.
But I knew better now.
Peace never lasted long.
And this choice we'd just made would demand a price we hadn't yet learned how to pay.