CHAPTER 7: Fractures

The penthouse was dark when they returned.

Selene didn’t waste a second—she kicked off her heels right as soon as they stepped inside. Six hours on stilettos, six hours playing the part. The glow from the city outside seeped through the windows, casting long shadows over the smooth marble floors.

Without flipping on any lights, Avalon headed straight for the bar. She could hear the soft clink of crystal glasses and the gentle pour of something strong. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of his silhouette—broad shoulders tense, his head bowed low as if carrying a heavy weight.

“That went pretty well,” she finally said, cutting through the quiet.

He didn’t so much as glance her way. “Marcus still isn’t buying it.”

“Did you really think he would?” She stepped closer. “One fancy gala isn’t going to wipe away all his doubts.”

“No.” Avalon took a slow sip, then set the glass on the counter. “But maybe it could’ve given us a little breathing room. You on the other end  looked scared every time someone congratulate us.”

That hit her hard because, well, it was true. “I’m not used to lying.”

“Then you better get used to it.” He finally turned around, and even in the dim light, she could see the fire burning in his eyes. “Because if Marcus sees your hesitation as a crack in our story, everything blows up. The board meeting’s coming in four days.”

“I’m trying.”

“Then try harder.” His voice got louder, revealing the frustration he’d been holding in like ice under the surface. “Do you think this is easy for me? Standing there next to you, touching you, acting like we’re a couple when you’re the one person who—”

He stopped. But the words hung in the air anyway.

Selene felt a sharp constriction in her chest, a whirl of emotions threatening to burst free. She longed to shout that he simply couldn’t comprehend the depth of her sacrifices, the battles she’d fought silently. Yet, the words remained trapped, heavy and unwilling to leave her lips.

Instead, she breathed out softly, her voice fragile yet sincere, “When you look at me, what do you truly see?”

The question seemed to catch him off balance. His gaze lingered on her with a sudden vulnerability, the carefully constructed facade slipping for just a moment. In his eyes, she glimpsed a mix of confusion, heartache, and something tender—almost like a yearning for what once was.

After a pause, he finally spoke, his tone heavy with sorrow. “I see a ghost. Someone who resembles the girl I once knew, but can’t be that person anymore. Because she wouldn’t have vanished without a single word, without any explanation.”

Each word landed like a sharp sting, piercing her heart. Tears threatened to spill over, but she clung to her resolve, refusing to let them fall.

“Maybe you never really knew her as well as you thought,” she murmured.

He shook his head slowly, a touch of regret in his eyes. “Maybe I never knew her at all.” Taking a step closer, the scent of scotch mingled with the weariness etched on his face. “Who are you, Selene? Deep down, who are you now?”

Her voice was barely audible. “I’m nobody. Just someone you’ve hired to fill a role, to pretend.”

He pressed forward, his warmth radiating near enough to feel, his voice a raw challenge. “That’s not true. You’re lying to us both.” 

She covered her face with her hand, the frustration burning within her—how he'd recognized her every subtle sign, how a decade hadn’t faded the closeness they’d shared. “Please, just stop.”

“Stop what?” he asked, voice gritty and earnest. “Stop trying to understand? Do you have any idea what you did to me?” 

Yes, she truly did. More than anyone around her could ever understand. Each step she took away from him felt like tearing away a piece of her very soul. Yet, staying by his side would have shattered her even more painfully.

“I did what I believed was necessary,” she murmured, her voice trembling with a quiet desperation.

“That simply isn’t enough,” he responded, his tone firm but weighted with sadness.

“I’m trying, truly,” she confessed, struggling to find the right words—words that might bridge the growing distance between them.

“Then you have to try even harder,” he said, his voice breaking beneath the surface of his carefully guarded emotions. “Do you honestly think this is easy for me? 

“It’s the only one I have.”she said barely audible

They stood there, inches apart, breathing hard. Selene’s heart pounded against her ribs. She should step back. Put distance between them. But her feet wouldn’t move.

Avalon murmured with a tender ache in his voice, a vulnerability so raw it nearly shattered her heart. He confessed, "This pain inside me feels unbearable. I hate how you still hold a power over my soul. The way your dress caught my eye tonight, the simple grace of it, it wounded me deeply. And when we shared that dance, if only for a brief, fragile moment, I lost myself—forgotten all the reasons I should have loathed you."

Then, as if breaking the fragile spell between them, he took a step back, and the delicate connection they shared fractured, scattering like shards of broken glass across the floor.

“Get some rest,” he said, his tone carefully neutral again. “We have brunch with the Chens tomorrow. Try to look like marrying me wasn’t the worst decision of your life.”

He walked away, disappearing into his wing of the penthouse. Selene stood alone in the darkness, trembling.

She made it to her room before the tears came.

She lay curled up on the bed, which now seemed overwhelmingly vast and hollow, allowing her mind to drift back gently. She didn’t focus on the heartache of leaving or the pain of losing someone dear. Instead, she chose to hold onto the memories from an earlier time—those moments when life was uncomplicated, filled with genuine beauty, and so deeply moving that they touched her soul in the most profound way.

—-

*Twelve years ago. Stanford University.*

The campus library at midnight was Selene’s favorite peaceful place. Empty enough to think, quiet enough to breathe. She’d claimed a corner desk on the third floor, surrounded by economics textbooks and lukewarm coffee.

“You’re here late.”

She looked up to find Avalon holding two fresh steaming cups from the coffee cart. He set one in front of her without asking—already knowing she took it black, no sugar, strong enough to strip paint.

“Final’s in six hours,” she said. “I’m nowhere near ready.”

“You’re always ready. You just don’t believe it.” He slid into the chair across from her, long limbs folding into too-small furniture. “What’s the topic?”

“Behavioral economics. How people make irrational decisions contrary to their best interests.”

“Sounds relevant.” His smile was soft, genuine. The smile he only gave her. “Like spending midnight in a library when you could be sleeping.”

“Or keeping someone company when they should be sleeping?”

“Exactly.” He reached across the table, caught her hand. “We’re both terrible at rational self-interest.”

She looked at their joined hands—his long fingers, her paint-stained nails, the easy way they fit together. “Is that what we are? Irrational?”

“Probably.” He ran his thumb across her knuckles. “I’m supposed to be focusing on Nexus. Building the platform. Networking with investors. Instead, I’m here. With you. And I don’t regret it for a second.”

“Avalon—”

“I love you.” The words came easy, natural. Like breathing. “I know we’re young. I know everyone thinks we should be focused on our careers. But I don’t care. You’re the best decision I’ve ever made.”

Selene felt her heart overflow. “I love you too.”

“Then we’ll figure it out. Whatever comes next, we’ll figure it out together.”

Together? Such a beautiful lie.

-----

Selene pressed her face into the pillow and wept for everything they’d lost, for the boy who’d believed in together, for the girl who’d believed him.

Outside her door, Avalon stood with his hand raised to knock, frozen by the sound of her crying.

He lowered his hand and walked away.