บททั้งหมดของ Love Me Then Destroy Me: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Adrian's Point of ViewThe morning comes in a quiet way.I am awake before the sun fully shines through the windows. The house is quiet, just like it always is at this time of day. I am barefoot on the cold floor in the kitchen, listening to the refrigerator hum and her breathing from upstairs.After I left her room, she didn't scream again.I know it shouldn't feel like a victory, but it does.I wash my hands at the washbasin, but I take too long and watch the water slide over my skin. Today, I tell myself to keep things normal. Easy. You can count on it. She needs a schedule. That's what the doctors said. That's what I hold on to when my gut tells me to do more.I get eggs out of the fridge. Bread from the counter. She used to love the coffee beans in the jar, but she hasn't said if she still does. I still grind them. The warm, familiar smell fills the kitchen, and for a moment it seems like the past is only a room away.I break the eggs carefully. I always do. She used to laugh at

Adrian's Point of ViewI don't sleep.The house settles around us in a soft, fake quiet that makes it seem like it forgives everything that has been said. Even after Lana's breathing slows down, the lights go out, and the rooms go dark, her words stay with me.You hurt me in the past.It wasn't like she was accusing him. She said it like she had just found out. That's worse.There is no ceremony when morning comes. The pale light that comes through the curtains and falls on the floor makes lines that feel like walls. I stand at the window longer than I need to, watching the sky change colour and listening for sounds coming from upstairs.My heart races when I hear her footsteps.I turn when I see her at the top of the stairs. She seems more stable than she did last night, but not all the way there. Her eyes meet mine for a second and then move away. There is caution now. Being aware.I say, "Good morning.""Morning," she says.We move around each other carefully, as if we were strange

 POV: LanaThe attic smell is like old paper and dust. Light shone in through the small skylight, thin and pale, and caught the edges of objects I had never noticed before. Boxes, some stacked precariously, some half-open, held secrets Adrian clearly thought I shouldn’t see. My hand hovered over a small drawer tucked under the slanted ceiling, the kind of drawer that seemed too obvious and too hidden at the same time.I didn’t know why I went to it. I only knew my fingers itched to move it, to lift the lid, to look inside.Adrian’s voice startled me from behind. He didn’t move fast. His presence was careful, measured.Lana.I froze.

 POV: Lana Adrian's hand lit up the screen. I had leaned over a little to look when he reached for something on the other side of the table, and I saw the name. Just a line of text, plain and simple. And yet it broke everything. My chest felt tight. My fingers curled up in my lap. The room looked smaller. The air got thick. The light from the kitchen window fell on the table, but it couldn't reach the shadow that was now clinging to me. The name. I knew it. Or at least my body did. My mind was all over the place, stumbling and trying to grab pieces that wouldn't come together. It was like a key I didn't have. Like a door I could feel but couldn't open. It brought back a memory I didn't want to have. The

Adrian's POV It was too quiet in the house. I could clearly hear every thing coming from the corridor to the floors above. The slight rustle of leaves outside, the quiet hum of the refrigerator, and the study's clock ticking away. But it didn't matter since I could sense her faltering. Lana. I felt a warning vibration in my chest when I heard her name. She had gone outdoors. The world outside the barriers I had constructed had been impacted by her. And she was the object of everyone's desire. I had no control over that spark or that recognition. The prison I had built was crumbling, and it had awoken a part of her that I had kept shackled. The small creases beneath my eyes were highlighted by the morning light as I leaned against the kitchen counter. Even though my hands wer