𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑 ✓ | 18+

Chapter Thirty-Four

Oliver

The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains, casting long shadows across the room. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, the events of the previous night replaying in my mind like a broken record. Bella's sobs, her shaking form against mine, and my own pathetic attempts at consolation. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the memory, but it was useless.

I was fucking useless

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 7:00 a.m. Time to get up. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, running a hand through my hair. Bella was still asleep, her face peaceful but marked with the remnants of last night's tears. Guilt gnawed at my insides, but I shoved it down. No time for that now

I dressed quickly, pulling on a clean Black T-shirt and sweatpants. The house was quiet as I made my way to the kitchen, the only sound was the soft creak of the floorboards beneath my feet. I started a pot of coffee, the familiar routine grounding me, giving me a semblance of normalcy in the midst of chaos.

As the coffee brewed, I leaned against the counter, staring out the window as the sky began to lighten. My mind raced, trying to find a way to make things right, or at least bearable. I needed to clear my head, to figure out my next move. Bella deserved better than this. Better than me. But damn it, I wanted her to forgive me, plus deep down I knew I couldn't let her go. Not now. Not ever.

The sound of footsteps broke through my thoughts, and I turned to see Bella standing in the doorway. She looked fragile, Her hair was tousled, and she wore one of my Black T-shirts, the sight of which stirred something protective and tender within me. She also had her glasses on, which made her look both adorable and fragile, like a porcelain doll that could shatter at any moment. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something—anger, hurt, maybe even hope. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a mask of indifference.

"Morning," I said, my voice gruff. I hated how awkward I felt around her now, like I didn't know what to say or do.

"Morning," she replied, her voice flat. She moved to the counter and I watched her pour herself a cup of coffee, her movements shaky, noting the way her fingers trembled slightly as she held the cup. Guilt gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside.

We stood there in silence, the tension between us palpable. I wanted to say something, to bridge the gap, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I watched as she took a tentative sip of her coffee, her eyes downcast.

"Uhh..Did you sleep well?" I asked, breaking the silence, more out of habit than genuine curiosity. I already knew the answer. Fuck! Of course she didn't sleep you idiot!

She shrugged, taking a sip of coffee. "Well enough."

I moved closer to her, hesitating before placing a hand on her shoulder and turning her to face me. She flinched slightly but didn't pull away. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart.

"Bella, I know I've messed up," I began, my voice rough. "I know I've hurt you, and I can't take that back. But I need you to understand that I'm trying. I'm really trying."

"Trying? Are you trying?" she said coldly, her voice devoid of emotion. Fuck she was right

"Bella, I—"

"Just please kill me and get this over with," she interrupted. Kill you? Never

My face turned red and my fists clenched. I noticed the tears streaming down her face. I quickly took a deep breath, preparing for what I was about to say.