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‘I didn’t see it,’ I whisper. ‘Any of it.’ I was right there, but I was so blind, so naive.

‘I felt like I didn’t have a choice,’ he says. ‘Not if I wanted to make sure it stopped. Not if I wanted to make sure you were safe.’

‘That wasn’t your choice to make,’ I say, but my words come out a whisper. I don’t feel as angry as before.

‘It became mine the second no one else did anything.’

‘That’s not justice, Ash.’

‘Call it whatever you want. I don’t regret it.’

His eyes never leave me. His words are fierce and unapologetic.

‘I would do anything for you,’ he adds, quieter still. ‘You’ve always known that.’

And I have. That’s the problem. Because standing here now, I don’t know if that’s something to hold onto, or something to be afraid of.

Grant can’t touch her again. He can’t touch me. A thought settles in, heavy and shameful: a part of me, a part I don’t want to look at too closely, is grateful. My stomach turns at my own thoughts.

‘I get why you did it,’ I admit. ‘I do, but that doesn’t make it right. Now I have to live with the knowledge that you did this, that you’re capable of this, but also that part of me is relieved you removed him from our lives. I don’t know what that says about me.’ I exhale, dragging both hands down my face and putting pressure on my eyes. ‘I need space. I need time to understand what I’m even supposed to feel about any of this.’

‘Space,’ he repeats finally, quieter than before.

I nod once, knowing this decision is final, even though nothing between us is. Something shifts in his expression, and he looks as if he’s weighing up whether to argue, to close the distance anyway, to undo what I’ve just said simply because he can, but he doesn’t. Instead, he exhales slowly.

‘All right,’ he says. He looks at me for a long moment. ‘If that’s what you need.’

I don’t answer, because I don’t know if space will fix this.

I lean back against the cushions at Mum’s, the memory of our conversation playing through my mind on a constant loop. My fingers trace the rim of the coffee mug. I remember him standing there, calm and quiet, but absolute. His words echo in my head.

‘The lines don’t exist when it comes to you. I’ll cross every one of them, Bryn, because you’re mine, and I won’t let anything touch you.’

All these years I spent angry, thinking he betrayed me in the most targeted way he could have, and yet the truth, horrifying as it is, is that he didn’t. He never did. My sister never hurt me like I thought. I was trapped in my own web of fear and lies.

Ash loves me. He’s always loved me.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Cinnamon drifts through the air, the scent warm and familiar. My mum is in the kitchen singing under her breath, and for a moment I forget the chaos in my own life. She’s doing well, despite everything she’s been through, and it’s nice to see her smile again.

Ash is giving me space. Letting me breathe. Letting me choose. That’s how much he loves me: he’s letting me walk away, knowing I might never return. I clutch the mug a little tighter, a heavy exhale escaping me. I’ve loved him for so long. Even when we’re apart, I can’t imagine my life without him. He holds a piece of me, and nothing fills the void but him. I’ve always understood the danger, the obsession, and the morally grey nature of his devotion, but now, I see it more clearly than ever.

He did what he thought he had to do. He chose to make his own justice, even if it meant bearing the weight of darkness alone, and yet, he let me leave. He let me come here. He hasn’t followed me. He hasn’t called. He hasn’t demanded anything of me. He trusts me to come back on my own terms and understands if I don’t.

I close my eyes and I can hear his voice clearly, telling me about things I never understood, things that happened right under my nose in the house I slept in every night. I know what he did is wrong. It’s not right in any way, and I should be terrified of him. But I’m not. I’m beginning to realise I would follow him anywhere. I would stand in the fire with him. I would accept all the darkness, all the moral greyness, all of it, because love like this is all-consuming.

45

BRYN

Now

The week drifts by almost unnoticed. Days bleed into each other.

I have morning coffee with Mum, take twilight walks, and share quiet evenings. Sometimes I can pretend I’m a normal girl living a normal life, but ninety percent of the time my thoughts circle back to Ash and everything he’s done. The world feels oddly peaceful here, despite the darkness in my own heart. It’s a darkness so like his, in ways I don’t quite understand.

My phone buzzes. A number I don’t recognise flashes on the screen.

Unknown: Can we meet?