Lahat ng Kabanata ng You Left, I Could Have Fixed Us: Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

Chapter EightyEthan’s POVThe halls were empty when I left her.The light had gone soft, sinking through the high windows in long streaks that caught the dust in the air. It should have been peaceful, but it wasn’t. Every sound echoed the scrape of my boots, the quiet drag of my breath all of it too loud in the silence she had left behind.I should have felt relief. I had walked away before I could do something I couldn’t take back. But that was a lie, and I knew it. The truth was, I had wanted to stay. I had wanted to see if she would have stopped me, or if she would have let me.That thought followed me down the corridor like a shadow I couldn’t shake.By the time I reached my study, the calm I had forced was already cracking. The room smelled faintly of smoke and paper. My desk was covered in notes I hadn’t read, reports from the border, sealed letters from the court. All of it is useless noise.I sat, but my body didn’t settle. The silence kept pressing in. The memory of her voic

Chapter Eighty-TwoMaya’s POVMy hand froze on the desk.The sound of his voice slid under my skin like ice. It was calm, almost tender, but that tone was a lie. It was the same quiet that came before something cruel, the kind that made the air itself tremble.“Maya.”The way he said my name made my stomach twist. I hadn’t heard that voice in weeks, but every part of me still remembered it.The room felt smaller with each breath I took. The candle beside me burned low, its light too thin to fight the dark pressing at the corners.He was outside.I knew it even before the handle moved. The air had shifted. The silence had changed. The kind of stillness that wasn’t empty but waiting.I backed away from the door, my heart beating so hard I could feel it in my throat. I didn’t dare make a sound.The parchment on the desk still lay open. Ethan’s handwriting, sharp and steady. Do not open your door to anyone — especially him.I should have called for someone. I should have shouted. But I co

Chapter Eighty-FourMaya’s POVThe air in my room felt heavy.Not from the heat, but from everything I was trying not to feel. The curtains were still drawn, only a thin line of sunlight cutting through and painting the floor in pale gold. I sat on the edge of the bed, bare feet pressed into the cold marble, hands folded in my lap like they belonged to someone else.My body still remembered him.Every breath reminded me. Every small movement sent echoes of last night rushing back, and I hated how easily they came. The sound of his voice. The weight of his hands. The look in his eyes when he realised I had stopped pretending I did not want him.I told myself it was a weakness. That was the same pattern that kept dragging me back to him. But weakness had never felt like that. It had felt like something deeper. Something I did not know how to name without tearing myself open.I stood and crossed to the window. The garden below was bright now, alive with voices and soft wind, but it looke

Chapter Eighty-Six Maya’s POV I woke before the sun. The room was dim, quiet, and warm from the night that still clung to the sheets. My body felt heavy, like it hadn’t decided if it belonged to me yet. I could still feel the weight of his hands, the slow drag of his breath against my skin. For a moment, I didn’t move. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to understand what I’d done and what it meant. Ethan. His name filled my chest before I even thought it. The night wasn’t something I could forget. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him the way he looked at me before he touched me, the way his voice dropped when he said my name. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t cruel. It was something else, something that left me completely open. When I finally sat up, the air was cold against my skin. The sheets slid down my legs, and I pulled them back up quickly even though no one else was there. It felt wrong to be this exposed and even more wrong that I wanted him to see me again

Chapter Eighty-EightMaya’s POVThe corridors felt endless.Every step back toward my room echoed too loudly. The walls seemed to listen, holding the sounds of my breath, my heartbeat, the rustle of my dress. I wanted silence, but the silence here had its own kind of noise, the kind that lived under your skin and refused to fade.When I reached my chambers, I didn’t light the candles. The dim light from the window was enough. My reflection caught in the mirror across the room was pale, tired, a little too hollow. I turned away before I could study it.My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Not from cold, but from the way my body still remembered him the heat, the pull, the voice that had settled too deep in my mind. I pressed my palms flat to the table until the tremor stilled, but it didn’t stop the ache inside me.I should have been angry. I should have wanted to forget. But I didn’t.The memory stayed. The sound of his voice when he told me not to hide. The look in his eyes when he said h