HER ~LIFE ~IN ~A ~NUTSHELL

Chapter 12

Her voice cracked a little.

“He’s my best friend. My… Silas. And now I’ve gone and caught feelings I shouldn’t even have.”

She rolled onto her side, hugging a pillow like it might keep the ache away.

“He doesn’t care,” she whispered again, trying to convince herself.

“He doesn’t. He’ll never care.”

She pressed her face into her pillow, voice muffled and shaky.

“It’s stupid. I’m stupid. He’s my best friend. I was supposed to protect him, not—not fall for him.

And he doesn’t care. He never—not when he has another girl—” She continued to say bitterly.

“Who said I don’t care?” A voice cut her off.

Her whole body jerked.

That voice, it better not be who she thought it was, maybe she was just hallucinating.

“Who said I don’t care, Mel?” Silas said again.

She turned slowly, dread and shock rising together.

There he was, sitting on her window frame.

Right there.

Listening.

Tears filled her eyes instantly.

“I— what are you doing here?” She asked the first question that came to her mind.

He climbed inside, stepping into her room with that calm she hated and needed at the same time.

“So I’m prohibited from coming to my prince’s house?” He asked teasingly before snapping back to his serious expression.

“You were saying something before, what was that?”

Her breath caught instantly. “I—silas, I wasn’t saying anything.” She lied.

“You were.” He frowned.

“No, I wasn’t,” she insisted, scrambling to sit up, wiping her face too fast.

No, I wasn’t,” she insisted, scrambling to sit up, wiping her face too fast.

“You didn’t hear anything. I was just… talking nonsense. It wasn’t what you think.

“Then why are you shaking?”

“I’m not.” she replied so fast.

“And why were you saying my name like it hurt you?”

Her breath hitched.

“Silas, please. Just forget it.”

“I’m not forgetting it.”

He stood in front of her now, close enough that she couldn’t run from his eyes.

“You think I don’t care,” he said quietly. “And that’s the part I’m not letting go.”

She gazed at him, tears suddenly finding their way to her eyes.

“You? Care? Since when?” She scoffed through her tears.

Silas didn’t move at first. He just stared at her—quiet, steady.

Her eyes flicked to the small hoodie lying on the chair beside her bed—the one he had given her the night she ran from her parents.

He might not know, but she still kept it safe even after all this years.

It smelled faintly of him, of safety, of a world where she had actually been allowed to breathe.

Her chest tightened.

The memory of that night—the fear, the shame, the relief that someone had finally been there for her—hit her all at once.

She pressed her hands to her face, swallowing hard, trying to stop the tremble.

But it was no use. The tears slipped through anyway.

Silas noticed immediately.

He stepped closer, voice low, rough, and full of something raw:

“Since the night you ran from your parents’ house.”

Caramel froze, staring at him through the haze of tears.

“You think I helped you escape because I was bored? Because I had nothing better to do?”

Her lips trembled.

“I cared from the moment I saw you crying behind that garden wall. I cared when your parents shouted your name like you were nothing.

I cared when you were shaking so badly you couldn’t even climb the fence.”

The hoodie on the chair, the memory, the helpless little version of herself that night—it all made her body shudder.

“And I cared even more when you looked at me like I was the only place you felt safe,” he whispered.

Her chest tightened painfully.

He swallowed hard.

“I didn’t say anything because I knew if I did, you’d start depending on me. And once you depend on someone like me—”

He paused, jaw clenched.

"You don't ever escape. Ever".

Her tears fell freely now, hot and unstoppable.

“So yes,” he continued quietly, “I care. Too damn much. More than I should. More than I know how to handle.”

She continued crying, this had always been the Silas. The real Silas.

He lifted his eyes to hers, raw and unguarded.

“And I love you. I’ve loved you for longer than you even know. Everything you think about me, all this worry about Bet… that was just a game. Just a distraction. Nothing more. You… you are the one I’ve always wanted.”

Caramel’s breath hitched. Eyes incredibly wide.

Her heart thudded so fast it hurt.

“You—what?” she whispered, voice shaking.

“I love you, Caramel,” he said firmly, stepping closer.

Bet was just… a play. A test, nothing more. You’re the one who matters. Always have. Always will.”

Her hands trembled. She wanted to speak, to deny, to push him away… but her body wouldn’t listen.

Her lips parted.

Her tears kept falling.

He reached for her, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“Look at me,” he said.

“And know it’s you. Only you.”

Caramel froze completely, eyes wide, breath catching in her throat.

“No… no, this can’t be real,” she whispered, moving back and shaking her head.

“You’re just… just playing me. Like you played… Bet. That’s all this is, right? A game. A test. Nothing more.”

Silas’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening.

“I’m not playing, Caramel.”

She threw her hands up, voice trembling with disbelief.

“You knew I had feelings for you and you never said a thing and now you come here to tell me you love me, it's another trick, isn't it?

"Stop" he said, firm, low, almost a growl.

"I'm not tricking you I'm telling you the truth"

She shook head violently, tears blurring her vision.

“No. I don’t believe you. You… you can’t care like that. You don’t feel that way.”

Silas stepped closer again, closing the space she tried to create, his presence impossible to ignore.

“Then tell me why your body is reacting like it does. Tell me why you can’t move when I’m near.

Tell me why you’re crying even though you’re trying to fight me.”

“I… I don’t know… I… I…” Her lips trembled, she folded her palm.

He reached for her hands, gently gripping them, forcing her to face him.

“Look at me. Hear me. I love you, Caramel. None of this is a game.

None of it. Bet… she was never you. She was never even close. You’re the one I’ve wanted. Always. And I’m done hiding it.”

Her chest heaved, tears spilling freely, her heart pounding so hard it hurt.

She wanted to push him away. She wanted to scream that she didn’t believe him. But somewhere deep inside, a small, impossible part of her knew—she already had.

She opened her mouth to say something,but he beat her to it.

He took a slow step back, then sank to one knee right in front of her.

Caramel’s heart skipped a beat.

“Caramel…” His voice was low, steady, impossible to ignore.

“I… I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Shock rippled through her like electric waves. Her body went rigid, breath caught somewhere between fear and disbelief.

She couldn’t speak. Not a word.

Silas looked up at her, his eyes soft but intense.

“You don’t have to answer me right now,” he said quietly. “Take your time. I’ll wait. I’m not going anywhere. But I need you to know—this is real. Me. All of me, for you.”

Her lips parted slightly, eyes wide, tears still glimmering, and her chest heaved with the impossibility of it all.

She wanted to speak. She wanted to deny it. She wanted to run.

But even as her mind screamed, a tiny, undeniable part of her heart whispered...

He means it .He really means it.

[•Skyline Precinct•Prison-Block•9, Same Night•]

The cell smelled of iron, dampness, and dried blood.

Ruth Sylvester lay on the cold concrete floor, her hair matted to her face, her lips split in three places. One eye was swollen shut, the other barely open. Her wrists were bruised from the cuffs they sometimes forgot to remove. Her breathing was shallow, labored. Every inhale burned.

She was almost unrecognizable.

She was almost unrecognizable.

Her thoughts were cracked... scattered... broken shards of everything she once was.

How did I end up like this?

I’m Ruth Sylvester.

People screamed my name on red carpets.

Now I’m screaming in my own head.

She coughed, fasting blood.

Naomi… that bitch…

Gerard… always looking down at me…

Lewiston… those eyes like death… he watched me fall…

Tears mixed with the dirt on her cheek.

If I ever get out…

If I ever breathe air again…

I’ll burn them all.

Every single one of them.

Her body trembled from days without proper food, from nights where guards kicked her out of boredom, where inmates dragged her by the hair because she was “the famous one.”

A faint click echoed in the hallway.

Ruth didn’t move — she couldn’t.

Keys turned.

Keys turned.

Footsteps approached.

Four guards entered, their flashlights harsh against her face. She flinched.

“Up,” one barked.

She couldn't.

So they drugged her.

Her knees scraped the floor as she was hauled out of the cell like a dead animal.

“W-Where… where are you taking me?” she whispered, voice cracked like broken glass.

No one answered.

At the end of the corridor, a man waited — tall, dressed in an expensive black coat, gloves on, face emotionless. Two more heavily built men flanked him.

She squinted.

“Her…bert…?” she croaked.

The man tilted his head slightly.

“I told them,” He said calmly, “you were being transferred for ‘further processing.’”

His tone was ice — smooth, dark, dangerous.

Ruth's breath hitched. "You..... came for me"?