"Do you think it was a mistake?" I asked, leaning closer and pulling her waist toward me.
Her nipples pressed against my chest through the sheer fabric of her nightgown, her skin flushing and her breath hitching as she looked down to avoid my gaze.
...
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DERIN
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She collapsed to the floor, the sight of Yerik's lifeless body overwhelming her. A dam of sorrow broke inside her, and her body trembled with the weight of it.
I moved closer, wanting to offer comfort, but as soon as my hand touched her arm, she flinched, her voice sharp as she whispered, "Don't touch me." She pulled away, creating a barrier between us.
The fear in her eyes was undeniable, but there was something else, something darker—remorse. It twisted my insides. The guilt clawed at me again, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts. I had played a part in this. My choices, my stupid, reckless decisions had led to this moment. I had destroyed lives, hers included.
And yet, I still didn't learn.
I could have ended Yerik's life myself, but it wouldn't have mattered. No, Fria needed this. She needed to face this, to confront her past. She had been running from it for too long.
Because I knew how it felt to be haunted. To have your past echo through every waking moment, suffocating you, not letting you breathe easy. Every thought tied to something darker, a shadow that followed you everywhere. It wasn't just something she had to overcome, it was her freedom.
Fria's breath was shallow, her hands trembling as she stared at Yerik's still body. I could almost feel the weight of the years of pain she had carried in silence. It was never just about him—about what he had done to her. It was about everything she had buried beneath the surface, all the anger, the fear, the regret that had accumulated over time.
I wanted to say something, anything to make her feel less alone in this, but the words stuck in my throat. I couldn't just tell her it was going to be okay when I knew it wouldn't be. This wasn't going to be over in a moment. She'd have to live with it, piece by piece, and I couldn't take that burden from her.
But I could give her space. Space to feel, to process, to do what she needed to do.
At that moment, I could tell she didn't need me. Her heart ached for, was Evren.
