I Used To Cling To Him At Night, Now I Turn My Back Chapter 13

I Used To Cling To Him At Night, Now I Turn My Back Chapter 13

The next morning, the comments were buzzing more than ever.

[The male lead’s taking the side character to the same psychologist.]

[The showdown we’ve been waiting for is finally here.]

[Sorry, female lead… but these two are just too good together. Ending up with the side character wouldn’t be a bad ending.]

I rubbed my sweaty palms together.

Despite my nerves, I still changed into the most flattering outfit I could find.

The clinic was unusually quiet that day.

It was my first time seeing the female lead in a white coat. This time, she didn’t try to make small talk.

After exchanging a glance with Callan, she led me into a private room. Heavy curtains shut out the daylight.

Her gentle voice coaxed me to relax.

“Close your eyes. Just let yourself drift.”

The moment I blacked out, I was plunged back into the fire.

Flames reached toward the sky. Wood cracked and collapsed. Smoke burned my lungs.

I curled into the corner, my cries swallowed by the roar of the inferno.

Then someone burst through the flames. My brother. Nolan wrapped me in his arms. His back took every burning beam that fell.

With the last of his strength, he pushed me out.

Those were the last words he ever said to me.

After the fire, I went through his belongings over and over again.

Inside his backpack, I found a love letter he’d never had the chance to send.

It was signed—Sienna. The same Sienna the comments kept calling the female lead.

She had written him a love letter too.

They’d promised each other a graduation trip. A trip they’d never get to take.

After that day, I was left with deep psychological trauma. My health grew worse. Eventually, I developed severe touch starvation.

To protect me, my mind had erased it all.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself looking into Callan’s deep eyes.

The comments were gone.

The curtains had been pulled open. A soft breeze drifted through the room.

The years between twelve and twenty-two—they felt like ten days and a lifetime all at once.

Through all of it, he was still here. That was all that mattered.

“Can I keep clinging to you? For the rest of my life?”

Warm afternoon sunlight fell across his face.

He smiled and pulled me closer.

“As long as you want, honey. As long as you want.”

His voice was steady, certain—the kind of certainty that came from surviving fires and losing years and still finding your way back.

I buried my face in his chest and breathed him in.

For the first time in a decade, the flames finally went quiet.