Silent Ruin {A Novella}|18+

Ch. 4

Torn between two

Leah wiped her hands on her apron, moving through the familiar motions of cleaning. The clatter of plates, the soft hum of the wind outside—it was routine, the kind of comfort she clung to when the chaos of her thoughts threatened to overwhelm her. She wiped the kitchen counter absently, her mind far away, wandering back to memories of Sebastian she wished she could forget.

A sudden knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts, her heart skipping a beat. Leah frowned. It wasn't time for Jonathan to return from the farm, and she wasn't expecting anyone.

With hesitant steps, she moved toward the door, her fingers tightening around the cloth in her hand as she reached for the latch. The door creaked open, revealing a figure she thought she'd never see again.

Sebastian.

Her breath caught in her throat. He stood there, the man who had once been her entire world, framed by the midday sun, his features sharper, more rugged than she remembered.

"Leah," he said, his voice rough yet soft, like a secret being whispered through the wind.

For a moment, she just stared, the familiar ache of longing and guilt swirling in her chest. How many times had she imagined this? Seeing him again, feeling the earth shift beneath her as everything she had tried to bury came rushing back.

Without a word, Leah grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, her eyes darting to the street, paranoid that her nosy neighbors would see him. She couldn't afford that—not now, not ever. She hated how familiar this all felt—how easy it was to fall back into the rhythm of them, two hearts beating in unison after years apart.

But it wasn't the same. There was a dull ache where that unity had once thrived, now stained by time, secrets, and the man she had promised herself to.

"Jonathan won't be back until sundown," Leah whispered, more to herself than to Sebastian. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor, afraid that if she looked up, her feelings would be too much to bear. The house felt smaller with him in it, suffocating in its silence.

Sebastian stood a few steps from her, his presence a storm she couldn't escape. His eyes, once bright and filled with dreams, were dimmed, haunted by things he never spoke of. She knew war had carved its mark into him, and yet, standing there, she could only feel the pull of what they once were.

"They'll talk," she muttered, thinking of the village, the nosy eyes always watching, waiting for a story to spill. They all knew. They had all seen how deeply in love she and Sebastian had been before war tore them apart. Now, with his return, it wouldn't take long for whispers to reach Jonathan's ears.

"They'll always talk," Sebastian replied softly. He sounded manlier than she remembered, but it still held that note, that whisper of the boy she once loved.

Leah couldn't bear it any longer. She turned to face him, forcing her eyes to meet his. "Why didn't you come back? Why did you let me marry another man?" she whispered, "I thought you were dead, Sebastian."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, his gaze dropped to the floor as though her words had struck him where he stood. "I nearly was," he muttered with the bitterness of memory. "The things I saw, the things I went through...there were days I prayed I wouldn't make it. But somehow, I survived. Barely."

Her chest tightened as the space between them seemed to shrink. She wanted to reach for him, to pull him close and erase the years of pain between them. But something held her back—a shadow of guilt, of loyalty. Jonathan.

"I heard about you. About Jules," Leah's heart hammered as she forced out the words. The name left a bitter taste on her tongue, sharp and painful. "She said she saved you, that you owed her your life." Her breath hitched. "Did you... Did you love her?"