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"He let you go again?" her voice is a mix of hope and skepticism.
I nod. "I left and tried to restart, but someone attacked me in my new apartment. Then Jacob," I gesture subtly towards him. "He saved me. Damien sent him. Can you believe after everything, Damien's become...I don't even know, part of me?"
Seraphina reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. "Are you saying you're with him? After all he's put you through?"
"It's not that simple. There's tenderness I never expected, moments that feel normal, like we're a real couple," I say, feeling my cheeks warm with the confession.
"Do you trust him?" her question is sharp.
"I..." I trail off with my heart a knot of contradictions. "I want to, Sera. But trust is a luxury, isn't it? In our world, it's as dangerous as it is rare."
She gives me a look that's part understanding, part worry. "That is true. You're stronger than his chaos. Just remember that."
I smile wistfully. "I'm trying, Sera. Really, I am."
We sit there in silence, the soft murmur of the café around us blending into a lull of white noise. The minutes stretch out, filled with unspoken thoughts and the clinking of cutlery. Then Seraphina's voice cuts through the silence, gentle yet edged with the concern of a friend who has seen too much.
"Isa, are you really okay? You've been through an awful lot," she asks as her eyes search mine for the truth that my poker face might hide.
I offer her a small, reassuring smile before nodding. "Yes, Sera, I am. It's complicated, but I'm okay."
Her lips curve into a wry smile, and her tone lightens. "You haven't got a case of Stockholm syndrome, have you? Falling for your tormentor and all? You guysarein a relationship."
I laugh, a genuine burst of amusement that lightens the weight of our conversation. "Stockholm syndrome? No, and I wouldn't call it a relationship. It's... a mutually beneficial release of tension that we both enjoy," I say, figuring the euphemism wraps our arrangement in enough mystery to satisfy curiosity without revealing too much.
I lean back in the chair, feeling the old, carved wood press against my spine, grounding me to the moment. My mind whirls with memories, each one a sharp fragment of the picture that Damien and I have become. He's a storm of a man, relentless and fierce. He's put me through trials that would break most, and there was a time I would've given anything to escape his pull. My gaze flits to the window. Outside, the world moves on in blissful ignorance of the chaos that brews within me.
The attraction between us, undeniable and electric, has always been a force of nature. Our chemistry crackles with the intensity of a lightning strike in the air around us. I can't deny it, not even to myself, especially not when his touch still lingers on my skin.
And yet, as I sit here, I'm torn. Can a few tender moments and shared laughter erase the shadows of the past? The thought dances around the edges of my heart like a dangerous melody that tempts me towards forgiveness, towards trust. But forgiveness doesn't come easy, and trust... trust is a fragile thing that, once shattered, its shards are sharp and treacherous. Do I dare pick up the pieces?
I take a fortifying sip of my coffee, letting the heat seep into my bones. Can I fully give in? To lean into the fall and hope that the arms that have both harmed and held me will catch me this time? The battle between my heart's desires and my mind's warnings is a silent war that I wage within the confines of my ribcage.
I let out a soft sigh. Forgive and move on. The phrase is a siren's song, luring me to potentially treacherous shores. With Damien, I'm learning that some questions might not have ready answers, and maybe, just maybe, that's okay. For now.
The atmosphere shifts as I pivot the attention away from my chaotic world to hers. "How about you, Sera? What's been going on in your life?" I ask, eager for an update that's rooted in normalcy.
She shrugs a nonchalant gesture that's a little too casual. "Oh, things have been fine," she says, but the flicker in her eyes suggests the simplified answer is just the tip of an iceberg.
"What about Ethan?" I prod gently, recalling the countless times she had mentioned his name with that sparkle of interest in her eyes.
Her expression hardens, and her dismissive laugh is a telltale sign. "Ethan? He's out of the picture," she declares, then scoffs with a bitterness that’s new to me.
I lean in, my curiosity piqued. "What happened?"
She looks away briefly as her fingers tap an impatient rhythm on the tabletop. "Let's just say he was a master of deception. The good guy act was just that, an act." She takes a deep breath, her voice steadying. "I caught him red-handed, or should I say, in the middle of the act, with some bimbo no less, when I showed up at his place. The truth couldn't have been clearer."
I feel a twinge of anger on her behalf, mixed with relief that she learned about his true colors now rather than later. "I'm sorry, Sera. You don't deserve that," I say earnestly.
She meets my gaze again with a resilient fire, replacing the earlier hurt. "It's fine. I'm better off without the lying, cheating scumbag."
Suddenly, the sound of gunfire erupts, shattering the calm like glass under a hammer. Bullets whiz through the air, tearing into bookshelves and scattering paper and debris. Time narrows to a pinpoint, and my pulse is a furious staccato in my ears. I barely register movement before Jacob is in motion, a blur of trained efficiency. He vaults over the tables with a protector's urgency, and with firm hands, he yanks both Seraphina and me down to the floor. We're pressed close to the ground, and the cool tile against my cheek offers a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding around us. Jacob covers us with his body like a human shield against the storm of lead, his eyes scanning for threats.
"Stay down!" he yells.
His command is needless. I'm frozen, and my breath comes in shallow bursts as the reality of danger crashes over me with unforgiving clarity.
Ears ringing, the world recedes to the space between breaths and bullets. Jacob’s return fire is a metronome of survival among the deafening roar.
