The Comments Begged Me to Believe He Loved Me, His Actions Had Already Convinced Me Otherwise Chapter 10

The Comments Begged Me to Believe He Loved Me, His Actions Had Already Convinced Me Otherwise Chapter 10

The Apex Point Station project had gone better than anyone expected. When I stepped into arrivals, half the office was there.

Nolan stayed close, wearing that easy grin of his. “Great. Competition everywhere.”

I elbowed him, rolling my eyes — and then I saw Silas. Standing on the far edge of the crowd. His face went white.

My friends and colleagues swarmed around me, laughing, pulling me into the center of the group. They were already debating which expensive restaurant to drag me to this time.

Silas stood at the very edge, chewing at his lip.

I’d never seen him look so small.

He hesitated. Then something in him snapped free and he crossed the distance in three quick strides, catching me by the wrist. He was breathing hard. “Elena — I need to talk to you.”

The noise around us fell away. I squared my shoulders and looked at him.

“Sure. I’m listening.”

His eyes darted to the faces around us. His mouth opened, closed. His fingers were shaking.

I exhaled. One last mercy. I pulled him aside.

He’d lost so much weight in the months I’d been gone. The skin under his eyes looked hollowed out, his complexion was gray, and he hadn’t shaved in what looked like weeks. Every trace of the sharp, arrogant genius had been scraped away. What was left barely looked like him.

He was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, the words came out one at a time.

“Elena, I can’t do this without you. I mean it — in every way.”

“I can’t sleep. You’re there whether my eyes are open or closed. I say your name in my sleep, and I’ve never… I’ve never been like this.”

“I’m so lost without you.”

“Can we… start over?”

If the comments had still been there, they would’ve lost their minds. This was the first time Silas had ever said it out loud.

Silas — the prodigy, the genius who’d never bent for anyone — was standing in front of me with his pride stripped away, trembling.

At sixteen, I would have been delirious. I would have thrown myself into his arms and held on for days. At twenty-three, all I had left was silence.

I heard my own voice, soft and steady. “It’s too late, Silas. We can’t go back.”

I’d stopped wanting a decoder ring for someone’s love a long time ago. Somewhere deep down, I’d always sensed that Silas needed me — maybe even loved me. But feeling it through walls and locked doors wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

“We’re adults, Silas. There’s no going backward.” I kept my voice light — giving us both a way to walk away with some dignity intact. “Look ahead. There’s a lot of road left.”

Just not the same road. Not anymore. His, and mine — headed in different directions.

He didn’t speak for a long time. Then he nodded — once, barely — and turned away. He walked like someone who’d already given up on living.

My friends waved me over from across the terminal. Nolan fell into step beside me, eyebrows raised.

“So? Made up your mind? Done with the ex? Ready to give me a shot?”

“In your dreams. Don’t push your luck.” I kept my face flat, but the corner of my mouth betrayed me.

“Heartless woman.” He nudged my shoulder lightly. “Come on, everyone’s waiting.” He didn’t look the least bit discouraged. If anything, every rejection only made him try harder.

I shook my head, smiling in spite of myself. I still didn’t know what to do with love this open, this unafraid. But I couldn’t push him away. So I let him stay.

Dinner was warm, loud, perfect. Right up until a breaking news alert flashed on the restaurant’s TV.

“Acclaimed painter Silas Thorne was found dead on the train tracks just before four o’clock this afternoon in an apparent suicide. The investigation is ongoing. Sources confirm he had recently been expelled by his longtime mentor…”

Every hand at the table went still. The room fell silent. Every pair of eyes turned to me.

The anchor kept talking.

“He was found clutching a handwritten note. It reads: ‘I was always terrified of the light. I never dared to let you in. So when the sun finally came, I chose the dark instead.'”

I sat very still for two seconds. My eyes felt dry — not stinging, not burning, just dry, like the tears had forgotten how to fall. I picked up my glass, my hand perfectly steady.

“Is everyone just going to stare at me?” I took a sip of water. “Come on, eat. The food is getting cold.”

Stella was the first to move. Her voice came out too bright, too fast. “Seriously, if you don’t start eating, Elena’s going to demolish the buffalo wings by herself!”

Slowly, the noise returned. Laughter, teasing, the clink of glasses.

As if a gust of wind had cut through — quick and sharp — and then was gone.