"Echoes of Unseen Fate"

Chapter 18

Amaya POV

It's been a week since I last received the text from him. In that time, I tried to go on with my life as usual, convincing myself that I wouldn't let him get under my skin again. I refused to let him control me like before. Every time my phone buzzed, my heart would jump, only to realize it wasn't him—and the anxiety would set in again.

He was playing mind games with me, toying with my thoughts and emotions. Even though he hadn't done anything this past week, his silence was almost worse. It made me paranoid, constantly wondering when or if he'd strike again. I felt like I was walking on eggshells, my mind racing with scenarios of what he might do next. Every shadow seemed darker, every unexpected glance from a stranger made my skin crawl.

I told myself I wouldn't give him power over me again, but I knew, deep down, he was still there, lurking in the corners of my mind. The worst part was not knowing if this calm was just the prelude to another storm.

On the other hand, a certain 6'3" man with dreamy grey eyes, broad shoulders, and black hair was taking up the other half of my thoughts, his sweet gestures managing to bring a bit of light into my otherwise darkened world.

Despite all the chaos swirling around me, he had this effortless way of making me feel seen, like I wasn't completely alone in this mess. His presence had become something I silently craved, even though I'd never admit it. Every subtle smile, every gentle touch, seemed to chip away at the walls I had carefully built around myself. It scared me—how much I was starting to depend on him for even the smallest flicker of happiness in my life.

I couldn't afford to rely on him, not with everything I was struggling with. Letting someone in meant exposing the parts of myself I wasn't ready to face, and the thought of that terrified me. He had enough to deal with on his own—his world was nothing like mine, polished and controlled, while mine felt like it was barely holding together. But every time I told myself to pull back, to keep my distance, I found myself drifting closer, drawn to the warmth he unknowingly offered. It was as if, against my better judgment, I was letting him become a part of the chaos I'd been trying so hard to contain.

But I knew better. I had to know better. Letting myself rely on him would only lead to disappointment—for both of us. He had no idea what kind of storm was brewing inside me, and the last thing I wanted was for him to get caught in it. He wasn't my savior, and I wasn't looking for one, even if part of me wished it were that simple.

Still, every interaction, every brief moment we shared, made it harder to remember why I was trying so hard to stay distant. His presence, steady and constant, was something I had started to depend on without even realizing it. And the scariest part? It felt... natural. Like he belonged in my life, in ways I wasn't ready to acknowledge.

I had to be careful. Letting him in meant risking everything I'd spent years hiding. I wasn't sure I could survive if he saw the real me—the broken, guarded pieces I kept hidden from the world.

But I had to remind myself to pull back. Depending on him was dangerous, no matter how easy it felt. He had no idea what kind of shadows I carried, the weight of the past I hadn't shaken. He didn't deserve to be tangled up in that, and I couldn't afford to let him see the parts of me I worked so hard to bury.

Yet, with each moment we shared, the lines blurred. I kept telling myself I was fine, that I didn't need anyone. But when he was around, it was like I could finally breathe, and that scared me more than anything. I wasn't used to someone making me feel like I mattered, like they saw past the front I put up.

I had to stop myself from overthinking before it completely consumed me, so I did the only thing that made sense at the moment—I made myself a cup of hot chocolate and sank into the couch in front of the TV. It was Sunday, and unfortunately, I was alone. Amelia had gone back to our hometown for her annual family dinners, something she dreaded every year. Her relationship with her family was far from perfect, but family obligations left her with little choice.