Forbidden Love

Chapter 6

"A name that carries weight. There is a story behind it, I'm sure."

"My life wasn't always like this," I started, unsure of where the words were coming from. "I didn't grow up in a place of magic and beauty. Back home, things were... different."

Illaria listened silently, her gaze never leaving me. The way she looked at me made it easier to keep going, like she wasn't judging me, just listening.

"My father died when I was young," I continued, my voice growing quieter. "It wasn't anyone's fault, but my mother... she didn't see it that way. She blamed me. Said I'd taken him from her." My hand trembled slightly as I set my fork down. Illaria didn't interrupt, didn't offer words of comfort that might have felt hollow. She simply listened, and somehow that made it easier for me to continue.

The words felt heavy in my throat, like I was dragging them up from some dark place deep inside me. "At first, it was just words, sharp things she'd throw at me whenever she was angry or sad. But as I got older, it became more than that. She started... taking her anger out on me in other ways."

I could feel Illaria's eyes on me, but I didn't look up. I stared at my hands, gripping the edge of the table as I pushed myself to continue. "She would hit me. Not just when she was angry, but whenever something went wrong-anything. I'd come to school with bruises, with cuts, and no one ever asked. No one ever cared."

My voice wavered, but I forced myself to keep talking. "I tried to leave so many times, but something always pulled me back. Maybe I thought I could fix her, or maybe I thought I deserved it. I don't know anymore."

Illaria was silent, and I finally looked up at her, half-expecting to see pity in her gaze. But her expression was unreadable, a careful mask of empathy and... something else, something deeper.

"I hated her," I admitted, my voice shaking now. "I hated her for what she did, but I also hated myself for never being able to stop it. For not being able to save my father, for not being enough. And then one day... she just left."

The words hit me as hard as they must have hit Illaria. I hadn't said them out loud before. "She disappeared. Vanished like she never existed. And I was left alone. No family, no friends, nothing but a house full of memories that haunted me."

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on me, but I couldn't stop now. "I wandered after that. Tried to find something-anything-to fill the emptiness she left behind. But nothing worked. People who said they cared only ended up betraying me. Friends, lovers-they'd all take what they could and leave when I had nothing left to give."

My chest felt tight, and I could hear the raw emotion in my voice as I spoke. "I've been alone for so long, I don't even know what it feels like to belong anywhere. I've been broken for so long that I don't even know how to be whole anymore."

Illaria hadn't said a word throughout my entire confession, but I could feel her presence, the weight of her listening. And when I finally looked up at her again, there was no pity in her eyes. There was understanding, deep and quiet, as if she could feel the pain I had carried for so many years.

"You've carried much pain with you, Amos," she said quietly. "Far more than any human should have to, you've lived a life of shadows," she said softly, her voice laced with something that felt almost like sorrow. "But you do not have to carry those shadows alone anymore."

Her words felt like a balm, but they didn't erase the years of suffering I had endured. Still, for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel judged or cast aside. I felt seen.

The food sat mostly untouched as the weight of my story settled between us, but it didn't matter. This moment felt more important than the meal or the magic around us.