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07 Everything fades
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2025-08-20 00:55:58
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His Tears, My Freedom 120 What she remembers
Liam’s POVIt’s been hours since we got back.I’m still seated in the chair, unmoving, while my mother puts Zara to bed in her room. I can hear her soft voice through the hallway, the gentle rhythm of a bedtime routine that stretched longer than usual because they spent the entire evening catching up. Stories, laughter, whispered questions. Time stolen back after years apart.My eyes stay fixed on the empty space in front of me.The smile I’d been wearing fades slowly, like it was never meant to last.The day crashes back into me.Lila.Lior beside her.The way she looked at me.The calm finality in her voice when she told me to stay away.I push up from the chair abruptly and walk to the window. The night sky presses against the glass, dark and endless, and it sends a rush of emotions straight into my chest. I take a deep breath, then another, dragging my hands through my hair as if I can physically shake the thoughts loose.It doesn’t work.I pause mid-motion.A thought settles in,
His Tears, My Freedom 119 The card she holds
Claudia’s POVMy hand lands across his face for the third time.Hard.The sound echoes sharply in the room as his head snaps to the side, his body staggering before he forces himself upright again, returning to stand directly in front of me. His hand never leaves his back, posture bent in submission, loyal like a dog that knows better than to run.I lift a brow slowly, disappointment etched deep into my expression.“You mean to tell me,” I say calmly, “that you missed her and couldn’t get the job done?”He nods.The moment he does, I strike him again. It’s almost automatic now, a rhythm I’ve fallen into since he walked in and admitted failure. He braces himself this time, jaw tightening, shoulders stiffening as my palm meets his skin.Again, I position myself before him.“So,” I repeat coolly, “you failed?”Another nod.Another slap.My fingers leave angry prints on his cheek, red and unmistakable, but I don’t stop. And he doesn’t move. I keep hitting him until I lose count, until the
His Tears, My Freedom 118 Her little surprise
Lior’s POVI still.It happens the second her lips touch mine.My eyes widen, breath caught halfway in my chest as if my body forgets what it’s meant to do next. The kiss is brief—too brief—gone almost the moment it arrives. No depth, no lingering pressure. And yet, it sends something sharp and electric through me, a quiet shock that races from my lips straight into my spine, spreading faster than I can control.My heart doesn’t slow afterward. If anything, it pounds harder, louder. I can’t tell if it’s because she kissed me… or because some reckless part of me has always imagined how it would feel like if we ever did.How can she do that?How can she steal a kiss from me and act like it’s nothing? Like it doesn’t matter. Like it doesn’t mean anything to her.My mind betrays me, replaying it over and over. The surprise. The way my body froze because I never expected her to cross that line. Not her. Not like this. Not so casually, as if she hadn’t just unraveled me in a single, effortl
His Tears, My Freedom 117 Sink in
Lila’s POVI am not angry. Not mad either.Just… pissed.Not in a sharp, explosive way. More like a quiet irritation that settles in my chest and refuses to leave. The moment with Liam still echoes in my head, leaving me restless and oddly light at the same time. It makes no sense. I should feel relieved after setting boundaries, after saying what needed to be said, yet there is a faint, unwanted warmth tangled up with the discomfort.I stay quiet in the car.My eyes remain locked on the road ahead, unfocused, like I am searching for something I lost but cannot remember where I dropped it. Streetlights pass in soft blurs. My reflection stares back at me from the window, distant, withdrawn.Liam’s face flashes through my mind.The way his expression cracked when I said I didn’t like him.Why should I even care how he feels?The thought comes sharp and fast as my fingers curl around the seat belt strap. He is the same friend I trusted as a child. The same one who betrayed me. The same o
His Tears, My Freedom 116 Boundaries set
Lila’s POVI glance down at the meal placed neatly in front of me. Still warm. Still untouched. Then I lift my eyes back to Lior, letting a soft, almost absent smile curve my lips.My mind drifts back to how my friends disappeared so dramatically the moment lunch with him was mentioned.Alessia had been the first to back out, already nudging Sofia and Enzo with exaggerated looks. Something about work needing immediate attention. Urgent calls. Responsibilities they suddenly remembered. Sofia nodded far too quickly. Enzo followed like he was part of a rehearsed play.Excuses. All of them.I know my friends better than that.They’d fled on purpose, leaving me alone with him. Can I even still call this lunch when the day is already slipping towards evening? Either way, I had given them my car keys as they backed out, since I was originally meant to drop them off after lunch.Perfect.I clear my throat, breaking the quiet that has settled between us.“I hope you’re not mad about the other
His Tears, My Freedom 115 Exactly where I wanted to be
Lila’s POVI hear his voice before anything else.“Lila… Lila.”Again.And again.It’s filled with so much panic, so much raw worry, that if I weren’t lying here with my cheek pressed against his chest, I might laugh out loud.I don’t respond.I let myself stay exactly where I am, sinking into him like I’ve lost all sense of gravity.Honestly, I knew he’d fallen the moment he saw me at the club. That part was obvious.What I didn’t know was that whatever he felt had grown this big.If only he could hear his own heartbeat right now. Fast. Uneven. Loud beneath my ear.Awww. Poor Lior.Relax. I’m not dead.Just… enjoying this.His cologne drifts around me, warm and familiar in a way that makes my thoughts slow. His voice keeps breaking as he calls my name, sounding more like the distressed one between us. A damsel in designer shoes.Around us, the air shifts.I hear murmurs as people gather closer. Hushed voices. Questions whispered like secrets.“Is she okay?”“What happened?”“Were the
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