Scars of Time

Chapter 34: "Comfort"

Hope's POV

I don't even know how I was able to cry in front of him. I'm starting to become soft lately. First that strange lady, now Alex.

He said he was relieved Ian couldn’t do anything to me. Well, Ian couldn’t hurt me, but Evan Astor could. Did, in ways no one would ever understand

I still can’t believe he’s dead. Sometimes, late at night, his image creeps into my dreams. He whispers that he’s alive, that he’ll come back for me. And even though I know he’s gone, buried deep in the ground, I can’t seem to sleep peacefully. His shadow looms over me, lingering like a ghost I can’t exorcise

Alex was not letting go of me, so I had to make him, because even if I wanted to, a hug cannot last forever.

"I'm okay. Don't worry. You don't have to listen to Time. You can go to sleep."

He hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly as if searching for a lie in my words. “Well...I’m not going to be comfortable sleeping in Time’s bed."

"Why? I teased, arching a brow. "Aren't you two besties?"

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, but his expression remained serious. "Time and I? Let's say we started understanding each other. But this doesn't change the fact that we don't like each other. And I don't want to sleep in a bed where my ex has probably slept in, or probably will."

I bit back a laugh, his concern oddly endearing. "Fair point,” I said, crossing my arms. “Do you want to sleep here?” I asked, my tone light and teasing.

But he didn’t take it as a joke.

Before I could process his reaction, he slid into my bed like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I stood there, arms crossed, staring at him in disbelief.

"What about me? Should I go to Time's room?" asked, trying to keep my voice steady even as my heart raced like a runaway train.

Then he did something unexpected—he reached out, firmly grasping my hand and pulling me down beside him. My breath hitched at the sudden closeness, his hand warm and steady against mine.

“Let’s sleep together,” he murmured softly, his voice so low I almost didn’t hear it.

The words sent a jolt through me. Did he mean it the way it sounded? Or was I reading too much into it? His tone was calm, almost innocent, but the intimacy of the moment had my mind spiraling.

Before I could respond, he wrapped an arm around me and gently pulled the sheets over us. His warmth seeped into me, his hold grounding me in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

He must be playing with me! What kind of friends are we at this point?

His breathing slowed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and I realized he’d already fallen asleep. I turned my head slightly, my face mere inches from his. The soft light filtering through the curtains illuminated his features—the sharp line of his jaw, the faint scruff on his chin, the way his lashes brushed his cheeks.

I studied him, letting my gaze linger on the peaceful expression he wore. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt… safe. Not just physically, but emotionally. There was no expectation, no pretense. Just quiet comfort.

It was strange. Typically, I was the instigator, luring the guys into my embrace. I had to find a way to keep them interested, and that was my only recource. And they always came back for more. However, none of them had ever held me in their arms like this.

I've always been the one to beg for love.

I'll never forget that one regretable moment when I found myself lying beside Kevin in his cozy bed. It took a lot of courage, but I mustered up the bravery to ask him the burning question that had been on my mind: "What do you really think of me?"

"I hate you." he responded, which was like a dagger to my soul. We had just slept together and he told me he hated me. Then he took his clothes and left the room, making me feel so worthless.

That's how my relationship with him was. We would engage in fiery arguments, and then I would find myself on my knees, begging him to stay. But as the night unfolded, we would surrender to our desires, only to wake up to his absence, trapped in the repetitive rhythm of our tumultuous relationship.

That's basically how every relationship I've ever had was. I'd make them miserable, until there was nothing left to save from it.

I I glanced back at Alex, my throat tightening.

I know it’s going to be the same with him.

I’ll ruin this, too. He’ll stay for now, out of guilt or obligation, but eventually, he’ll leave.And I’ll be right back where I started—begging for love from someone who’s already gone.

I shifted closer, resting my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His arms instinctively tightened around me, as if even in sleep, he knew I needed him.

For now, I’ll let myself believe in this lie. I’ll let myself enjoy his warmth, his presence. Because once it’s gone, once he’s gone, I’ll be alone again.

......................

Alex's POV

With the morning light filtering through the curtains, I opened my eyes to find Hope still in a deep slumber, cradled in my arms. Despite the lingering doubt about whether it was right for me to be here, I could see that she needed comfort. Anyone would if they had to go through what she had to endure.

At least she has Time. Even if his ways are wrong, I know he would give up his life for her.

I wish I had that kind of family. The only thing close to family for me was Mother Rose. Then Jo came into my life and I thought I might have finally found what I had been searching for all along. But no matter how much I tried, her parents never liked me. However, their opinion didn't bother me. All that truly mattered was how she felt about me.

But still, they were important to her.

I can't help but wonder what their reaction would have been if I had proposed that day!

Now, the only person left in my life is Hope. I mean I have many people around me, like Nial or my coworkers, but they are just there. I used to have friends too, or I believed I did, until I realized they were nothing but trouble. Our paths crossed when I moved out of the orphanage, and I must admit, I have not always been the only one helping them, they lent me a helping hand first. And it was in my moments of utmost desperation.

When I left, I assured them that I would always be there for them, but that's where my involvement ends. I have decided to distance myself from their troubles, and I sincerely hope they find the courage to break free from that life as well. If I managed to do it, I believe they can too.

Despite my determination to rise from bed, it seemed utterly impossible without disturbing her peaceful slumber. I exerted every ounce of effort, yet I remained frozen in place, for she had nestled her face against my chest. It's truly unbelievable that I find myself utilizing my precious vacation in such a manner. I've been saving it all this time for something important.

"Good morning." Upon hearing her voice, I realised I had woken her up.

"Good morning. I'm sorry. You can continue sleeping." I whispered and got up from the bed slowly.

She nodded and turned to the other side, burying her head in the covers.

In search of something to do, I found myself exploring her room. The disorganized chaos caught my attention, with makeup scattered and creams and other products left exposed. Determined to restore order, I took it upon myself to close each one and neatly arrange them in their designated spots.

On her desk was her laptop, which was not closed either. Maybe she has something against closing things.

I closed the laptop and beside it I noticed a notebook which had a lock on it. I didn't expect her to keep a diary!

This time I'm going to have to suppress my curiosity though. But I want to look at it so badly! I have to do something about this trait of mine.