Page 27

CHAPTER 27

DINARA

I toss and turn in bed, the memories of the night pressing down on me. Hours ago, I could still hear the ache in his voice, the desire he couldn’t hide, but it all dissolved into the bitterness of his hatred for my family.

There’s nothing I can do to change his mind. But I can’t do this either. I can’t let him turn me back into that heartbroken girl I was when he first left me. I won’t go through that again.

Time slips by, each minute dragging me deeper into a restless pit. The clock ticks to three in the morning, and I still haven’t slept a single second.

Footsteps in the hall thud in the distance. Slow, measured. Maybe just the bodyguards on their rounds. But then they stop outside my door, and my heart races.

The door creaks, and I freeze, my eyes shut tight, pretending to be asleep, even as every nerve in my body awakens.

Is it him? Could he have broken in again?

I can’t shake this feeling that I’m right.

And if that’s true, I can’t let him know I’m awake. I want to know what he’ll do.

I hear him inch closer, each step a whisper against the silence. The room is drowned in darkness, only the faintest light sneaking through the curtains. I’m almost holding my breath, every second stretching into eternity.

Then I smell him. His cologne. That familiar, intoxicating scent that’s been burned into my memory.

My body trembles, a shudder running through me as I feel his finger brush my temple, as if pushing away a stray lock of hair. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, trying to stop the ache that’s tearing me apart.

I can’t do this. I can’t let myself fall to pieces again. But I can’t stop wanting him either. He’s a part of me now, whether I like it or not.

“God, I miss you,” he whispers.

My breath falters, caught in my chest.

“Dinara?” His hand pulls away, and it feels like the distance between us has grown unbearable.

My lashes flutter open, and he’s there, towering over me, his presence filling the room, gaze shadowed by regret. He stands there like he doesn’t know what to say or how to fix this.

“What are you doing here?” The words are out before I can stop them.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, like he’s holding himself together by a thread.

“I don’t know. I just missed you,” he admits roughly. “I hated the way we left things.”

The heaviness of his words settles in my chest.

I miss you too.

“I should go.” He turns as if to leave, and I can’t let him. Not like this.

I reach out and grab his wrist, and he stops as though I alone control him. I wish that was true.

“Stay. Please, just stay the night.” The words spill out, even though I know I shouldn’t say them.

I know I should push him away. Keep him at arm's length. But right now, none of that matters. All I want is to be near him, even if it’s only for a few hours.

He shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

But when he finally looks at me, I see the conflict there, and for a moment, it feels like he’s really considering it.

“Please.” My hand slides down to his, gripping it like it’s my last chance. “Don’t go.”

I can’t bear another goodbye, even if it changes nothing between us.

He hesitates, his fingers curling around mine, and then his other hand gently cups my cheek, tilting my head up.

“You know what will happen if I stay.” His thumb brushes over my lips.

I nod, the truth between us too heavy to ignore.

His jaw tightens, and in that split second, all of the space between us vanishes. He leans down, his lips brushing over mine before he captures them with an urgency that takes my breath away. And for just a moment, nothing else matters but the two of us.

The rest happens in a blur. One second, he’s standing; the next, he’s shirtless and in my bed, grinding his body on top of mine and kissing me with a frenzy.

He drags up my nightshirt, circling his hips into my center, his cock hard, causing my pent-up need to drown out the voice that tells me I shouldn’t do this. That I’ll only get hurt in the end.

But what if tonight changes everything? What if he sees how perfectly we fit together? How right this is? Maybe then he’ll want to make it work. Maybe it’s worth the risk.

My hands grip his back as he kisses me, both of us clinging to one another with raging passion, while he works his sweats down until I feel his bare cock rocking against me.

“Do I need a condom?” he asks out of respect, even when we’ve done this without one before.

And that just makes me fall for him even more.

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m on the pill.”

He growls, rolling his hips into me, making me cry out in pleasure.

When the crown of his erection enters me, my teeth sink into my bottom lip, his eyes watching me take every inch in one brutal thrust.

In this moment, I feel alive, as if everything else—the pain, the loneliness—fades into nothing. He cups my cheek, his movements slow yet deep, and for a fleeting moment, it’s as though we’re one. Connected in a way that feels stronger than anything we’ve shared before.

I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to close my eyes and wake up to the brokenness that will be left behind. The shattered pieces of us that we’ll never be able to put back together.

“Dinara…” His gravelly voice stirs something deep within me as his lips lightly brush mine.

“Don’t,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Just don’t say anything.”

The last thing I want is for him to tell me this is wrong or we should stop. Right now, there’s nothing I want more than to be with him, just like this.

He groans, like he knows I’m right. Gripping my thigh, he throws my leg over his shoulder, his pace quickening, driving deeper, harder, until I’m nothing but a mess of gasps and frantic grasping.

His body moves over mine with effortless precision, like we’ve fallen back into something familiar. Like we’ve rewound time.

But it’s a lie. A fleeting illusion. And soon, I’ll wake up.

His mouth crashes against mine, his fingers curling around my throat as a desperate, punishing kiss steals my breath. He growls my name, thrusting deeper, taking everything.

My heart pounds, threatening to shatter under the weight of emotions I can’t contain.

It’s too much. And yet not nearly enough.

When he thrusts into me again, I come apart, calling his name, clinging to him even more, needing him to remember. Fingers tighten around my throat as he stares into my eyes, pounding roughly like he can’t get enough. With a guttural cry, he releases inside me, claiming every last bit of my soul.

His breaths are ragged as he collapses onto his back, kissing the corner of my mouth. “I’ve missed this.”

“Me too.”

Though I don’t know what he means. Did he miss the sex, or me? Or both? I’m scared of the answer.

As he holds me over his chest, his eyes flickering closed, I peer over at him, and I can’t help but wonder.

Will he still be here in the morning?

* * *

I wake to the sound of something hitting the floor. Groggy and disoriented, I open my eyes and immediately feel the absence beside me, his side of the bed empty.

“What are you doing?” I ask when I catch him pulling on his shoes and shrugging his hoodie back on like it’s just another morning.

“Leaving.”

I blink, trying to clear the fog in my mind, my heart pounding so loud I swear it could drown out the world. My gaze darts to the clock.

“Why? It’s only six in the?—”

He cuts me off. “I’m sorry, Dinara. This was a mistake.”

A bitter taste rises in my throat, sharp like acid. I swallow it down and fight to keep my emotions steady.

“What? No.” The words are barely a whisper, and I sit up, the sheets tangling around me like they’re trying to hold me back. “Why are you doing this? I know you feel it too. Don’t you want us to be like we were?”

He steps closer, reaching for my face, but pulls back in the last moment like I’m made of poison.

“Every damn second,” he strains, his brow furrowed in something that looks like regret but feels so much like defeat. “But we can’t go back. It’s just…what it is.”

I can’t even breathe for a moment as the heaviness of what he said sinks in, suffocating me. “That’s bullshit. Your mother wouldn’t want this. She wouldn’t want you to throw everything away. She’d want you to be happy. To be with me.”

His eyes snap to mine, fury flaring in them. “How the hell would you know what my mother would’ve wanted? If it wasn’t for your family, I could’ve asked her. But I can’t, can I?”

The harshness in his tone slices through me—clean, merciless. My eyes squeeze shut, the sting of tears threatening to spill.

He sighs, heavy and defeated, and when I look at him again, I see nothing but coldness. “I’ll never love you, Dinara. Ever. This is over.”

His words are a final blow. The dam breaks and tears spill down my face, uncontrolled and hot against my skin.

His jaw tightens, a fist curling at his side, but he doesn’t move. “This will never happen again. Just forget I ever existed.”

Each word is like a fresh wound, deeper than the last. “You’re being cruel. You don’t mean it.” I choke on every syllable, another sob wracking my chest. “Tell me how you really feel. Forget our families. Forget everything. Just tell me, how do you feel ?”

For a brief second, his gaze softens, like he’s going to say something. Something that will pull me back from the edge. But instead, he turns away.

I can’t stop the flood of tears, my chest heaving with the weight of everything he won’t say.

“I hate you!” I scream, my voice breaking.

Scrambling to my feet, I push him toward the door, hands pressing against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. Not even an inch.

“Get out!” My hands tremble as I shove him again. “Get out. Now!”

Finally, he starts to walk away, but his fingers catch my wrist before I can slip out of reach. His stare lingers, emotions that I can’t even begin to understand passing between us.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

I yank my arm out of his grasp, my chin trembling with rage and heartbreak. “For what it’s worth, go fuck yourself.”

A flicker of something—maybe guilt, maybe bitterness—crosses his face.

He opens his mouth, but all that escapes is a quiet, nearly pitying, “Goodbye, Dinara.”

The words are barely more than a whisper, yet they crash through me like a scream. With one final glance, he turns and walks out of the room.

Out of my life.

And in the silence that follows, as the door clicks shut behind him, all I can do is stand here, frozen, lost.

The weight of his absence presses down on me, suffocating every breath. I don’t know how long I stand here, but time doesn’t matter anymore. The only thing that does is the hollow ache in my chest—the kind that feels so deep, so relentless, that I can’t help but wonder…

How much can a heart break before it stops beating altogether?