All Chapters of You Left, I Could Have Fixed Us: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Chapter Sixty-NineMaya’s POVThe air in the garden had turned colder.The sun was already low, a pale disk sinking behind the spires, painting everything in muted gold and grey. The flowers bowed with the weight of dew, their scent heavy in the air too sweet, almost suffocating. I stood among them for a long time, still as the statues that lined the path, my hands cold at my sides.For a moment, I could almost pretend that nothing had happened. That the world beyond the hedges was not watching. That my body was still my own.But pretending had never been harder.Every breath I drew still carried traces of him Alvarez’s scent, Ethan’s voice, the quiet promise that had cut deeper than a threat. Their shadows were tangled in my skin. No amount of air could wash them out.The quiet of the garden felt wrong now. It wasn’t peace; it was the kind of silence that waited for a crack.I turned toward the castle. The stone walls loomed above the hedges, catching the last of the light. The wind

Chapter Seventy-OneMaya’s POVThe night never truly ended.It stretched thin and heavy, the kind of darkness that didn’t move with the hours but simply lingered, clinging to the walls, to my breath, to every thought I tried to bury.The fire had burned down to embers. Their light flickered across the floor, trembling like the pulse under my skin. I hadn’t undressed. The gown from the council dinner still hung from my shoulders, wrinkled, heavy with the scent of smoke and something faintly bitter.Sleep never came.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him Ethan standing behind the door, his voice low, quiet, the kind of quiet that didn’t soothe but marked. That same look in his eyes, unreadable, darkened by something I couldn’t name.The memory refused to fade.I pressed my hands to my temples, as though I could force the thoughts away by will alone, but it did nothing. The silence in the room made them louder. It made everything louder the sound of my breathing, the faint ticking of th

Chapter Seventy-Three Ethan’s POV The castle never truly slept. Even in the smallest hours, when the torches burned low and the corridors whispered with the draft, the air carried a quiet kind of unrest as though every stone had learned to listen for danger. Tonight, that unease was a living thing. I hadn’t slept. The sky outside my chamber window was the colour of steel, heavy with the promise of rain that refused to fall. The meeting with the war council had ended hours ago, yet their words still echoed uselessly in my mind grain routes, alliances, empty assurances. None of it mattered. Not when her voice still lingered in me the way it did. Maya. I tried not to think of her name, but it slipped through anyway, as natural as breath. I rose before dawn, restless. My hands found the leather of my gloves out of habit, pulling them on slowly, deliberately, as if control could be stitched back into me one finger at a time. When I opened the door, the corridor outside was washed

Chapter Seventy-FiveEthan’s POVThe sound of the bell reached me before the words did.It came through the stone walls like a pulse, deep and slow, carrying a weight that I felt in my chest before I understood it. The guards at the door straightened at once.“Report,” I said.The captain bowed his head. His voice was low but steady. “Riders at the east gate, my lord. They bear no colours, but the lead horse carries a black banner. We believe it is him.”The room went still.Every man inside knew what that meant.I turned toward the window. The sky had darkened since morning. The light outside was thin and grey, the kind that came before a storm.“How many?” I asked.“Thirty at least. Scouts say more behind the ridge.”Thirty was not an army, but it was enough to send a message. And Alvarez never moved without one.I nodded once. “Double the guards at the north and west walls. No one leaves the castle. And no one speaks to her about this. Not yet.”The captain hesitated. “My lord, she

Chapter Seventy-Seven Maya’s POV The walls felt closer than they had the night before. Morning had already passed, but I hadn’t moved from the chair by the window. The light had shifted across the floor, pale and thin, stretching toward my feet like it was trying to touch me but didn’t know how. I could still hear the sounds of the castle beyond my door footsteps, muted voices, the scrape of trays being carried down the hall all the small reminders that life continued whether I wanted it to or not. But inside my room, it was quiet. Too quiet. I hadn’t opened the curtains fully. The half-light made everything look softer, but it also blurred the edges of the world, and that felt easier to live in. I could pretend, in this grey air, that nothing had happened. That Ethan hadn’t looked at me the way he did. That his voice hadn’t burned through the last bit of strength I had left. My hands were still cold, though I didn’t remember when I had started shaking. I kept them in my lap, f