Whisper Destiny

Chapter 69

~ Catherine ~

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, tumbling out into the quiet night air.

"Hypothetically," I begin, "If you believed your parents died in an accident—if you lived your whole life thinking it was just a tragic twist of fate—but suddenly, you found out it wasn't. That someone intentionally caused it. How do you cope with that information?"

The question hovers between us, raw and unfiltered, and I can feel the weight of it in the way Natasha's gaze sharpens, a flicker of shock flashing across her face. For weeks now, this has been the silent burden I've carried, a shadow lingering in the back of my mind. But with the warmth of wine and the closeness we've shared tonight, something in me cracked open. Maybe the alcohol loosened my tongue, or maybe it's the safety I feel with her, here in this small bubble we've built. Either way, I've crossed a line, and I know there's no turning back.

Natasha's reaction is immediate, her playful demeanor vanishing as her body tenses, her posture going rigid. She doesn't say anything at first, and the silence between us feels charged, like an unspoken shift in our understanding of each other. I can almost see her mind racing, putting pieces together, connecting dots I hadn't planned on exposing.

I exhale loudly, instinctively trying to pull away from Natasha. I should know better—no one wants someone with baggage like me, and I certainly don't want to burden her with my problems. Regret floods me instantly; I shouldn't have let that question slip. But as I try to move, her grip on my waist only tightens, grounding me. Gently, she cups my face, her hands warm and soft against my skin, and despite myself, I feel a rare comfort in her touch.

"Babe," she whispers, her voice soothing yet steady, "is this about that case that you've been working on with that officer? I know this isn't just a hypothetical question. Tell me... please, what's going on?"

Her gaze searches mine, patient but unwavering, her voice so soft that it pulls at something inside me. She's piecing it together, and I knew she would; Natasha isn't someone you can hide from. She's a Grayson, of course she will know.

Still, I stay silent, the words lodged somewhere between my mind and my mouth. But Natasha doesn't back down.

"Please, share this with me," she says, her tone insistent yet tender. "You don't have to carry this alone. I'm here, right here with you. Lean on me... please, babe."

I take a shaky breath, forcing a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "I don't want my problem to be yours," I murmur, hoping the smile masks the storm inside me. "This... it's not yours to worry about. I can handle it."

But the vulnerability in her eyes makes it harder to hold back, as if she's somehow reaching past my defenses, asking me to let her in.

"Please... let me in," she murmurs, her voice steady but laced with a vulnerability that reaches right into me, as if she can read my thoughts like an open book, as if she already knows the weight I'm carrying.

"Do you trust me?" she asks, her gaze unwavering, holding mine with a kind of quiet insistence.

"I do..." I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. "You know more about me than anyone in this world. I wouldn't let you this close if I didn't trust you, mon cher."

Her expression softens, a small, almost grateful smile forming on her lips. "Then trust me one more time," she says, the sincerity in her voice so raw and real that I can't look away.

I don't want to burden her with this, I tell myself, but... God, there's a selfish part of me that needs her, that can't keep fighting to hold this alone.

I hesitate, "I don't want to burden..."

But before I could finish the sentence, she shakes her head, her grip on my hand tightening as if to silence my doubts. "You're not a burden," she says, her words firm, almost fierce. "You're not, and you never could be—not to me."