Page 94 of The Code of You

I knew this voice.

"You’re safe. Come back to me.”

Slowly, the dream dissolved and the white walls faded. My parents’ voices went quiet. I opened my eyes.

Neo. But not the Neo I knew. Concern filled his face; his gaze was soft. He held me in his arms, his hands resting gently on my back, like I was something precious that might break.

"Hey,” he whispered, stroking my hair. "You’re with me. You’re safe.”

My heart was still hammering. Sweat clung to my skin. But his voice, his touch—both brought me back. Warmth gathered in my chest. I had never experienced him like this.

"I . . .” My voice was hoarse from screaming.

"Shh.” His thumb wiped away a tear I hadn’t noticed. "You don’t have to explain anything.”

But the images wouldn’t go away. The endless corridor. My parents’ cold voices.

"They were there,” I whispered. "My parents.”

Neo said nothing. He only listened. His hand kept moving through my hair .

"The corridor never ended. And they . . .” My voice broke. "They told me to control myself. That feelings make you weak.”

Damn it. Why was I telling him this? I couldn’t show him my weaknesses. He would use them. But something in his eyes made me keep talking. They gleamed like amber catching sunlight.

"I wasn’t even allowed to wrinkle the duvet. Everything had to be perfect.” Tears ran down my cheeks. "And in the end . . . in the end everything fell apart.”

"How old were you?” he asked quietly.

"It was always like that.” The words came on their own. "When I cried, I got tea.”

Neo’s jaw tightened for a brief moment, and then his expression softened again. "You were a child,” he said, his voice rough. "Children are allowed to cry.”

"No,” I whispered. "Crying makes you weak and vulnerable.”

"They taught you that?” His hand moved across my cheek. "They told a little girl her tears were wrong?”

My chest tightened. "They only wanted what was best for me. They made me strong.”

"Strong?” Neo’s eyes flashed with a spark of his old self. "Or did they teach you to hide?”

The truth hit me like a knife. Hiding. Yes. That was it.

"I . . .” A sob dissolved in my throat. "I don’t know who I am when I’m not being strong.”

"There is so much more in you than strength,” he said. "You’re the woman who hides behind perfection but hungers for chaos inside. Who teaches others to analyze feelings but fears her own.” A smile crept into his voice. "You provoke me because you’ve finally found someone who bites back. Who doesn’t handle you with kid gloves.” He cupped my face in his hands, so gently I got goosebumps. "You think you’re broken. But you’re just alive, Pandora.”

For the first time in my life I felt understood. Seen. Tears ran down my cheeks, and this time I wasn’t ashamed. He was right. I wasn’t broken. I was just hungry for life, for someone strong enough to hold me.

"Neo,” I whispered.

Then something changed in his eyes. The amber grew colder, harder. A smile played at his lips, but it wasn’t the gentle smile from a moment before.

"And now,” he said, his voice taking on a quality that moved across my skin like cold fingers, "this beautiful, hungry soul belongs to me.”

***

When I woke, I forgot for a moment where I was. Then I saw the cracks running through the plaster. The dusty curtains swallowing the light. The heavy wooden wardrobe with a door hanging crooked on its hinges.