Love In The Shadows | Fred Weasley x OC

Chapter 84

Chapter 84: No Choice

Adhara's breath hitched.

Fred stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his face unreadable. His eyes, however, burned with something raw—something deep and unresolved.

She couldn't speak. Could barely breathe.

Because standing inside this house—the one she had just stepped into, the one she had never seen before—she was finally confronted with a truth she had never known.

He had built this for them.

For a future that never came.

For a life she had walked away from.

Fred exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Figures George would blab."

Adhara's fingers curled into fists. "You built this for me."

It wasn't a question.

Fred's jaw clenched. "Yeah. I did."

Her heart pounded. "Before I left?"

"Before you ran," Fred corrected coldly.

The weight of his words pressed down on her. She turned away, taking in the room, the care in every little detail.

The bookshelves, lined with empty spaces as if waiting for her favorite books. The kitchen, small but cozy, just the way she had always imagined. A wooden table sat in the center, set for two, though one chair was slightly askew, as if someone had pushed it back but never returned to sit. There were fresh flowers in a small vase—flowers he must have replaced again and again, as if he were waiting for someone who never came back.

She ran her fingers over the edge of the table, feeling the smooth grain of the wood beneath her fingertips. The air inside the house was warm, carrying the faint scent of something familiar—cinnamon and cloves, the way his shop always smelled. It was strange, standing here, surrounded by proof of something that could have been but never was.

And then there was the greenhouse.

Through the back window, she saw it—a small glass enclosure bathed in moonlight, filled with herbs and blooms in neat rows. She remembered the idle conversations they had once had, back when they were still planning a future together.

And now, all these years later, it was here.

Built.

Waiting.

Adhara swallowed hard. "I didn't know."

Fred scoffed. "Of course you didn't."

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Then—

"You never even looked back, did you?" Fred's voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it, sharp and bitter.

Adhara turned to face him fully. "That's not fair."

Fred let out a short, humorless laugh. "Not fair? Not fair?" His voice rose, his frustration spilling over. "You left, Adhara. You didn't just leave me—you left everything."

Adhara flinched. "I had no choice—"

"Bullshit," Fred snapped. "You always had a choice."

Her breathing grew unsteady. "I was scared, Fred."

"And you think I wasn't?" He took a step closer, his hands running through his hair. "You think I wasn't terrified? But I was ready. I was ready to face anything, as long as it was with you."

Her chest ached. "I—"

"But you didn't trust me, did you?" Fred interrupted, his voice thick with emotion. "You didn't trust us enough to stay."

Adhara looked away, shame curling in her stomach.

Fred exhaled, shaking his head. "I built this house because I thought we had a future." He let out a dry laugh, bitter and exhausted. "I used to sit here at night, wondering if you'd ever come back. If I'd ever get the chance to show you what we could've had."

Her throat tightened. "Fred—"

"But you never did," he cut her off. "You never came back."

Adhara thought of Draco's words.

"He has a house, you know."

"He's been trying to sell it, but he never really goes through with it."

And now she understood why.

Fred wasn't holding on to a house.

He was holding on to her.

The weight of it—the years, the pain, the shattered dreams—settled between them like an unspoken storm.

Adhara inhaled shakily. "You know I never wanted to hurt you."

Fred's expression twisted, something breaking in his gaze. "Then why did you?"

She didn't have an answer.

Because deep down, she knew sorry wasn't enough.

Fred let out a heavy sigh, stepping back. "You should go."

Adhara's stomach dropped. "What?"

Fred gestured to the door. "This isn't your home. It never was."

His words cut deeper than she expected.

Her breath wavered. "Fred, please—"

"Go, Adhara."

She hesitated.

She wanted to fight.

To explain.

To undo the past.

But it was too late.

So she turned—her heart splintering with every step—and walked out the door.

Outside, the air stung against her skin, a stark contrast to the warmth she had just left behind. She had come here thinking she was ready for whatever she might find, but she had never expected this.

The door shut behind her with a soft click, but it might as well have been the sound of finality slamming into place.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but it did little to calm the storm inside her. The truth of everything Fred had held on to weighed on her, pressing against her ribs like a vice.

He had kept this house.

And he had been waiting.

She wrapped her arms around herself, staring up at the sky, searching for some kind of clarity. But all she felt was the crushing weight of what had been lost.

She turned back once, glancing at the house—the house that could have been hers. The house she never knew existed until now.

A light flickered inside, casting shadows through the window. Fred was still there.

Still hurting.

And she had no idea how to fix it.

Tears burned in her eyes, but she blinked them away.

Then, with slow, measured steps, she walked away.

Not because she wanted to.

But because she really had no choice this time.