Chapter 8

Roman’s POV

The second the door clicked shut behind her, I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

My hands were still shaking. She remembered something.

Not all of it. Not everything.

But something.

That look in her eyes when she said, “Help me understand.”

It wasn’t just curiosity. It was recognition. A flicker of the past buried somewhere deep inside her. Somewhere I thought I’d lost forever.

And fuck, it hit me harder than I was ready for.

I sat back down, ran both hands through my hair, and let my head fall into them.

She remembered.

Maybe not the gum I pulled from her hair or the flashlight forts we built in her backyard, but… the feeling. The connection. The ache when we were apart too long. The electricity we never had words for.

And I wanted to be happy.

Hell, deep down… I was.

But I couldn’t let her see that.

Because if I let that hope crawl up into my chest and take over, it would destroy whatever restraint I was barely holding onto.

She still doesn't know everything.

She doesn't know how long I’ve been carrying her memory around like a wound that wouldn’t heal. She doesn’t know that the reason I can’t sleep most nights is because I lie there replaying every stupid thing I ever said to push her away.

And she sure as hell doesn’t know that earlier, when she got close so fucking close I wanted to kiss her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

But I didn’t.

Because the second I touch her, this game we’ve been playing this careful, messed-up pretending ends.

And once that line is crossed, there’s no going back.

I wouldn’t be her stepbrother anymore. I’d be the guy who ruined her. The one who didn’t stop when he should have.

And maybe she’d hate me for it.

Maybe she should.

I stared at the door for a long time after she left, imagining her standing on the other side. Wondering if she was leaning against it like I was. Wondering if she could feel everything we weren’t saying hanging in the air between us.

She remembered. That thought echoed in my skull like a drumbeat and God help me… it made me smile.

Just for a second, But it was there.

She still has a piece of the boy she used to love buried inside her. And maybe just maybe there’s a chance he’s not completely gone.

Ariana’s POV

I didn’t know how I made it back to my room.

My legs were moving, but everything else inside me was frozen. Stuck in the way Roman had looked at me like he wasn’t breathing, like he’d seen a ghost when I said, Help me understand.

Because for a second… I think I saw it too.

A flicker of something. Not just in his face, but inside me.

A memory. A feeling I couldn’t grab fast enough. It was there and then it wasn’t. Like smoke through my fingers.

I closed my door softly and pressed my back against it, trying to catch my breath.

Why does he affect me like this?

Why does one look from him unravel me so fast?

I pressed my palm to my chest. My heart was beating way too hard.

Too fast. Too loud.

He was so close. Too close and for a second, I thought he was going to kiss me and God, the worst part? I wanted him to.

I slid down to the floor, burying my face in my knees.

What is wrong with me?

I’m not supposed to want this. Not supposed to feel like this. Not about him.

But when I looked into his eyes… there was something I couldn’t ignore.

Not hate. Not anger.

Something deeper. Sadder. Like he was fighting himself just as much as I was.

And then there was that voice in my head, that whisper that had been getting louder all night: You know him.

I do.

Somewhere, beneath all the cold glares and rough words and long silences—I know him.

It hit me hard when I looked at him tonight. The way he stood there, trying to act like nothing mattered. But it does. I could see it in his eyes.

I can’t explain it.

It’s like pieces of a puzzle are trying to click back into place. Little flashes. His voice saying my name a certain way. His smell. The way he moves, like I’ve seen it all before.

And when he said, Stay away from me, I should have listened.

But I can’t.

I won’t.

Because if I walk away now, I’ll never understand why this pull between us feels so strong. Why his eyes feel like home and heartbreak at the same time.

I stood up, pacing the floor now because sitting still made me crazy.

I couldn’t sleep. Not after this.

I climbed into bed anyway, pulling the blanket over me, but my mind wouldn’t shut off.

My head hit the pillow, and that’s when the images started.

Not dreams. Not yet. Just flickers.

A boy’s voice, soft in the dark.

Hands pulling me up onto a tree branch.

Laughter echoing down an empty street.

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. Come back. Please come back.

And then, just as sleep started to pull me under, a face.

His.

Roman.

But not the man he is now. A boy. Younger. Smiling at me like I was his whole world.

I’ve got you, he whispered in the dream.

The dream haunted me even after I opened my eyes.

I lay there in the dark, tangled in my sheets, breathing hard like I’d just run a marathon. My skin was hot. Damp. My chest hurt in a way I didn’t understand.

I’ve got you.

His voice echoed in my ears like a melody I’d forgotten but loved. That boy… that boy had been Roman.

I knew it now.

Not just a feeling. Not just some passing thought. The memory had cracked through the fog and planted itself right in the middle of my chest.

Roman had been mine. My friend. My safe place.

And I’d forgotten him.

How could I have forgotten him?

My throat burned. A lump rose so fast I couldn’t stop it. Tears stung my eyes, hot and heavy, and before I could stop them, they slid down my cheeks.

I buried my face in the pillow, biting down hard to keep the sob in.

Why does it hurt so much?

He looked so cold tonight, so unreadable—but when I said help me understand, something broke in his eyes.

I know he remembers. I saw it. I felt it.

But why won’t he tell me?

I hugged my pillow tighter, the ache growing sharper with every breath.

Part of me wanted to storm back into his room.

Shake the truth out of him. Demand answers.

But another part of me—an embarrassingly weak part—was scared.

Scared that if I forced him to speak, he’d pull away even harder.

That he’d push me out again like he always does.

And that terrified me more than anything.

Because tonight, for the first time since I got here, I realized something that scared the hell out of me.

I don’t want to stay away from him.

I don’t want this wall between us.

I want him to look at me like he used to.

Like I matter.

I wiped my face and stared up at the ceiling.

You can’t let this happen, a voice in my head hissed. You can’t fall for him. He’s your stepbrother.

But logic had no place here tonight.

Because beneath every rule and reason and line I wasn’t supposed to cross, there was only one truth I couldn’t ignore anymore:

I wanted him.

Not just the boy I’d forgotten.

The man standing in front of me now.

And no matter how many times he said stay away, my heart wasn’t listening.