𝑀𝒶𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝒶 | 𝟏𝟖+

20.

Kairos Vasileiou

The morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow over my room, but it did nothing to ease the tension simmering beneath my skin. I'd barely had a moment to breathe since Elle confronted me last night, and now it felt like everyone else was just lining up, waiting for their turn to voice their opinion.

Lacy had been the first call of the morning, her voice sharp and accusing as she tore into me for telling Elle the truth. I could almost picture her, pacing with that pinched look on her face, furious that her carefully constructed web of lies had unraveled.

She seemed to think I owed her some kind of explanation, that I'd risked her position by involving Elle. But I was in no mood for her complaints. I'd told her to deal with it and leave me alone. If she couldn't handle a bit of fallout, that was her problem, not mine.

The second call, though, came from Juliet. My sister-in-law. I couldn't brush her off so easily. Her name flashing on my phone screen brought a knot of irritation mixed with an unfamiliar sense of dread as if I already knew she'd come to me with another problem I couldn't ignore.

"Juliet," I answered, leaning back, steeling myself for whatever she had to say.

"Kairos," she started, her voice softened but laced with concern. "We need to talk about Elle."

I let out a slow sigh, running a hand through my hair. "What about her?"

Juliet hesitated, then spoke, her words laced with a seriousness that struck me. "She's not handling this well, Kai. She's hurt, and confused, and... you need to understand how fragile she can be. I know you've seen her strength, but there's more beneath the surface. You remember how she shut down when she and Lukas ended things?"

I paused, recalling that time when Elle had closed herself off from the world, and kept everyone at a distance. I'd heard about it from the others, how she'd barely left her room, how she'd drifted through her days like a ghost of herself. The idea that she could be heading down that path again left a strange pang of worry in my chest.

"She's stronger than you think, Juliet," I replied, but my voice lacked the conviction I wanted.

"Kai, this isn't about strength," Juliet continued, her voice softer now. "It's about her heart, her mind. If she's hurting like this, shutting herself off... you know what can happen. She doesn't deserve to be caught up in all this. She deserves a chance to just... move on."

My jaw tightened the weight of Juliet's words settling heavily. "What do you want me to do, Juliet?" I asked, the irritation edging my tone. "What would you have me do to fix this?"

"Let her go," Juliet said, her voice steady. "Let her go, Kairos. Give her the chance to find some peace, away from all this... away from you."

The silence that followed her words was thick, almost oppressive. Let her go. The idea lingered, pressing into my mind in a way that felt unfamiliar, and uncomfortable. I ended the call, barely managing a clipped goodbye before sinking into my chair, the weight of it all settling around me.

Let her go.

Juliet's words echoed in my mind, a reminder of the one thing I'd never considered. Letting Elle go wasn't an option I'd ever entertained. I'd built a life around the idea of having her close, knowing she was there, tethered to me in ways even she didn't fully realize. But maybe that was the problem. She was close, but only by force. And if that force was hurting her... if she was shutting down, retreating into darkness I'd inadvertently led her into...

I sat there, thinking, mapping out what it would mean. I wasn't ready to lose her, but maybe there was a way to give her the space she needed—enough to heal, to regain herself, without slipping away from me entirely.

—

I leaned back in my chair, eyes fixed on the security monitor. Elle and Nadia sat across from each other at the bar, their expressions a jarring contrast. Nadia's face was a mess, tears streaking down her cheeks, her eyes swollen and red as she seemed to plead with Elle. Meanwhile, Elle looked as if she were on the verge of throwing her drink at her supposed friend, her jaw set tight, gaze sharp and unyielding.

A part of me considered turning on the sound, letting myself in on every word. I had the means, after all, but somehow, it felt like crossing a line. This was their conversation—a conversation I had no right to interfere with, no matter how much I wanted to know what Nadia could be saying to justify herself.

So, I left the audio off, watching instead as their expressions shifted, a silent play of emotion that only added to the mystery of their exchange.

For a few minutes, it was nothing but tension. Elle's face didn't waver, her posture as rigid as ever, arms crossed and chin tilted up defiantly. But then something changed. I saw her lean back slightly, her expression softening, just a flicker as if a crack had finally formed in the wall she'd built between herself and Nadia. And then—a smile. It was faint, barely there, but it was a smile. That look of ease, that moment of calm that I'd rarely seen in the past days, felt like a victory.

I didn't know what Nadia had said to make her forgive, or at least begin to forgive, but for a split second, I found myself grateful. Grateful that, whatever the damage, some part of Elle's trust in her friends was still intact. I took one last look at the screen, then stood and walked out of the security room, leaving them to their private reconciliation.

As I made my way back to my room, my mind drifted back to the plan I'd been forming for her. It was all coming together, piece by piece, an idea that might just give her what she needed without completely breaking our bond. Juliet's words had stuck with me, and maybe they'd done me some good, as much as I'd hated hearing them. I knew Elle needed more than empty assurances. She needed something real, something solid to hold onto that didn't come with all the strings I'd tied around her life.

Whatever it took, I'd find a way to give her that balance.