You Left, I Could Have Fixed Us のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 131 - チャプター 140

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Nine Maya’s POV The castle felt different that night. Quieter. But not the peaceful kind of quiet — the kind that hums beneath your skin, the kind that makes you feel like you’re being watched even when you’re alone. I pressed my back against the cold stone wall, my fingers still curled around the folded parchment I had hidden beneath my sleeve. The letter Alvarez had received earlier was gone now but the words from it were burned into my memory. And the name I had whispered when I thought no one could hear. Lior. My brother. I shouldn’t have said it out loud. Not here. Not anywhere in this castle. But sometimes silence felt heavier than truth, and tonight it was choking me. The hallway stretched long and dim, the torches throwing soft orange shadows across the floor. I could hear the wind outside, sharp against the glass, the soft echo of footsteps in a corridor far away. Ethan’s room was down the other end. Part of me wanted to go to him. To te

Chapter One Hundred Thirty-One Maya’s POV The night air hit hard. Cold. Sharp. Real. The door to the hidden passage slid back into place behind us, sealing the dark away. For a moment, all I heard was my own breathing. Too fast. Too loud. Ethan moved first. He pulled me with him, guiding me across the clearing where the grass grew tall and unkept. The stables were close enough to smell hay and old leather, but far enough from the main courtyard that no torchlight reached us. His fingers were tight around mine. Not possessive tight. Urgent tight. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t need to. We ducked behind the far corner of the stable walls. Horses shifted inside, hooves scraping the dirt. One of them blew out a deep breath, sensing movement, or fear, or both. Ethan let go of me just long enough to press his back to the wooden boards and look toward the courtyard. I watched his jaw tighten. “Three patrols,” he murmured. “They’re moving faster than before.” I knew what that me

Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Three Maya’s POV The air felt sharp as I stood between them, even though neither of them had moved. Alvarez’s eyes stayed on me, not on Ethan, and the way he watched me made it feel like the trees themselves were holding their breath. Ethan didn’t shift his stance, but the tension in him changed. I could feel it through how close he stood, the slight tightening of his jaw, the way his shoulders drew just a little higher. He was choosing. He was preparing. He had already decided how far he was willing to go. Alvarez’s boots barely made a sound on the leaf-covered ground as he took another step forward. He wasn’t rushing. He wasn’t forcing anything. He walked like someone who knew the outcome before anyone else did. “You’re not thinking clearly,” Alvarez said, still speaking to me, not to him. “This place. This man. None of this is safe for you.” Ethan didn’t look away from Alvarez, but his voice was low enough that only I heard it. “Don’t answer him.”

Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Five Ethan’s POV The orchard felt too quiet after Alvarez left. Like the world was waiting for us to break. Maya didn’t move. She stood where she was, the pendant still in her hand, her fingers curled around it like it might disappear if she let go. I didn’t speak right away. I didn’t touch her. I didn’t even step closer. She needed space, and if I pushed too fast, I’d lose her. The torchlight flickered against her skin. Her shoulders were tight. Her breath was uneven. Not scared. Just… overwhelmed. Pulled apart in a way I recognised. I had been there once too. She finally looked at me. Her voice was quiet. “You believe him.” Not a question. A knowing. I stepped closer, slow enough that she could stop me if she wanted. “I believe what I saw in your eyes,” I said. “When he spoke your mother’s name.” Her hand tightened around the pendant. The silence didn’t feel empty. It felt close. Heavy. Real. She looked down. “I don’t remember her face.” I

Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Seven Maya’s POV His weight settled over me slowly, like he was making sure I felt every inch of him without being overwhelmed. The mattress dipped beneath us, warm and familiar, and his hands stayed on my waist like he was holding something fragile. Not because he thought I would break. But because he cared if I did. The room felt quiet again, but not the uneasy quiet from earlier. This was the quiet of breathing together. The quiet of two people deciding to stay instead of pulling away. His lips brushed mine, slow and patient. I could feel his heartbeat in how he kissed me. Steady. Warm. Sure. I slid my hands under his shirt, and he inhaled sharply, but he didn’t rush. He kept moving slowly, letting the moment unfold instead of pushing it forward. I traced my fingertips up his spine, feeling the tension there. Not the hard, defensive kind he wore in front of everyone else. This was something deeper. Something he didn’t show anyone. The kind t