Page 84 of Drunk On Love

“I couldn’t sleep,” I replied, fumbling with the jar in my hands. “Need some coffee.”

He stood up and stepped closer. “Caffeine won’t fix whatever’s keeping you up.”

My breath caught, my heart pounding louder than I would’ve liked. I swallowed the lump in my throat and met his eyes.

“And what exactly will?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked past me, his arm brushing mine as he reached for the coffee jar. “Let me make it…”

I stepped aside, watching him work. His movements were slow and methodical. After a few moments, he slid a steaming mug across the counter toward me and leaned against the opposite side., “What do you want to talk about?”

“Your extra grumpiness…”

“I’m always grumpy,” he replied, avoiding my gaze.

“No. Something has changed since I left Beaufort, and I want to know what.” I set my coffee mug down and steppedcloser to him, placing my hand over his on the counter. His body stiffened, and I noticed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“Why do I feel like I’ve lost a friend?” My fingers curled into his.

He opened his eyes and gently pulled me closer. “You haven’t lost anything. You couldn’t, even if you tried.”

One of his hands tightened around mine.

“I thought I was fine, you know?” His voice was low, almost a whisper. “Before you came in… I thought I’d figured out how to live in the ruins I’d built around myself.”

He paused, eyes flickering downward. “But you—”

A breath. A shake of his head. “You lit a match.”

I swallowed hard, my chest pulling tight.

He looked up.

And this time, his gaze wasn’t just grateful—it wasbare. Open in a way that made something deep inside me ache.

“And the person who made me breathe again…” His voice broke. “Left with a note.”

My breath caught.

And my heart—

It cracked wide open.

“I…” I started, but the words fractured before they could form. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Didn’t mean what?” His voice was quieter now. But each word was razor-sharp. “Didn’t mean to make me feel things I didn’t want to feel? Didn’t mean to make me care? Or didn’t mean to leave… without saying goodbye?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

No excuse.

No explanation.

Only the unbearable ache of everything I’d tried to bury.

His words hit me like tiny explosions in my chest—echoing truths I wasn’t brave enough to face until now.

“Manav…” My voice cracked like glass under pressure. I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t even look at him.