Redemption of hearts

Hope.

Liza's pov

The rain had started again, soft and steady against the windows, a rhythmic backdrop to the storm raging in my head. I paced the living room, Samuel's words replaying in my mind like a song I couldn't turn off.

"I know. But it's a start."

The nerve. The absolute audacity of the man. And the worst part? He wasn't wrong. It was a start, one I didn't know how to handle.

My phone buzzed on the counter, dragging me from my thoughts. I grabbed it, expecting Zoya's name to pop up, but no.

It was him.

Samuel: I shouldn't have kissed you. Again. But I couldn't help it.

I glared at the screen, my fingers itching to respond. I should have ignored him, but before I could think better of it, I was typing.

Me: You're right. You shouldn't have. Stop making this harder than it has to be.

I tossed the phone onto the couch, but it buzzed again almost immediately.

Samuel: Harder for whom? You? Or me?

A knock at the door startled me, and I froze, staring at it like it might come alive. Another knock.

My heart sank. I didn't need to check to know who it was.

"Go away, Samuel," I called, my voice sharper than I intended.

"Open the door, Liza," he said, his voice muffled but unmistakable.

I crossed the room, hesitating with my hand on the doorknob. "It's late. Go home."

"Not until we talk."

I let out a frustrated sigh, unlocking the door and yanking it open. He stood there, soaked from the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. His tie was gone, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, and his eyes... his eyes were pleading.

"What part of 'go home' do you not understand?" I snapped, ignoring the pang of worry at how utterly drenched he was.

"The part where you don't mean it," he shot back, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

I glared at him, slamming the door shut. "You can't just show up here every time we have an argument. That's not how this works."

"How does it work then, Liza?" he asked, his tone sharp now. "You tell me, because I'm running out of ideas."

I crossed my arms, refusing to let him see how much his presence unsettled me. "It works by you respecting my boundaries. By leaving me alone when I tell you to."

"Is that really what you want?" he asked, his voice quieter but no less intense.

"Yes," I lied, my voice cracking just enough to betray me.

"Liar," he said, stepping closer.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he said, his eyes locking onto mine. "You can't even look at me when you say it."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he closed the distance between us, his hands gripping my arms gently but firmly.

"Tell me you don't feel anything," he said, his voice low and steady. "Look me in the eye and say it."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

"Samuel, don't—"

"Say it," he pressed, his forehead almost touching mine now.

I couldn't. The words refused to come, caught in my throat like a cruel joke.

His fingers moved to my face, tilting it upward so I couldn't avoid his gaze. "You think I don't know you, Liza? That I can't see right through you?"

"You don't know me anymore," I whispered, though the words felt hollow.

"Maybe not all of you," he admitted, his thumb brushing against my cheek. "But I know enough. I know that you're scared. I know that you're angry. And I know that you still care."

I hated him for being right. Hated him for standing there, soaked and vulnerable, and making me feel things I didn't want to feel.

"This is insane," I said, shaking my head. "We're insane."

"Maybe," he said, his lips quirking into the faintest of smiles. "But I'd rather be insane with you than sane without you."

Before I could respond, his lips found mine, silencing the protest I didn't really want to make.

The kiss was different this time—deeper, hungrier, like he was pouring everything he couldn't say into it. And despite my better judgment, I kissed him back, my hands gripping the front of his shirt as if letting go would make me fall apart.

When we finally broke apart, both of us breathless, he rested his forehead against mine, his fingers still tangled in my hair.

"Tell me to stop, Liza," he murmured, his voice raw. "If this isn't what you want, tell me to stop, and I will. I swear."

I closed my eyes, my mind warring with my heart. But the truth was, I didn't want him to stop.

"Samuel," I started, my voice trembling.

"Just say the word," he said, his thumb brushing against my jaw. "And I'll walk out that door, no questions asked."

I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. "I don't know what I want," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his expression softening. "Then let me help you figure it out."

I hated how easy he made it sound, like the weight of our past didn't exist. But the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered, made it impossible to push him away.

"I can't promise you anything," I said, my voice shaky but honest.

"I'm not asking for promises," he said. "I'm asking for a chance."

The sincerity in his voice was my undoing. Against every instinct, I nodded, letting myself fall into his arms as the rain continued to fall outside.

For the first time in years, I felt something I hadn't allowed myself to feel.

Hope.  

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How's this chapter? Did you like it? Hope you all like it. Sorry for the delay.

NOTE: This is my first book so if there are any grammatical mistakes please ignore them. I will edit it after this book is completed.

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