Only the Beginning
1255 Words
Athena’s POV
The sheets were cold beside me.
I blinked slowly, sunlight seeping in through the tall, sheer curtains. The room was quiet—eerily so. I rolled onto my back, stretching out my hand only to feel the empty space where Xavier had been. My fingers curled against the sheets as a knot twisted in my stomach.
Gone.
He was gone.
I sat up, brushing the tousled hair out of my face. My body ached, my thighs sore from last night’s intensity. The echoes of his lips, his hands, the way he touched me like I was air and fire all at once—it haunted every nerve ending.
And yet… he’d left.
No note. No kiss to the forehead. No whispered goodbye.
The room suddenly felt too big, the silence swallowing me whole.
Knock knock.
I flinched, heart leaping.
"Come in," I said, voice still raspy from sleep and whatever else Xavier had wrung out of me the night before.
The door cracked open, and it was Maria—one of the house staff. She looked apologetic, holding my phone out like it was something fragile.
"You have a call, miss. She says it's urgent."
I reached for it. "Thank you."
She left quickly, and I pressed the phone to my ear.
“Sienna?”
“Athena, thank God. Are you okay?”
I frowned. “Yeah… Why wouldn’t I be?”
Her voice cracked, and I could hear the sound of wind and maybe traffic behind her. “Your father’s in the hospital. It happened this morning. A collapse. Internal bleeding, they think. I didn’t know how else to reach you—Xavier wouldn’t answer.”
My heart stilled.
“What?”
“They’re transferring him to St. Claire’s in an hour. He’s conscious, but it’s bad. I thought you should know.”
I was already halfway out of the bed, yanking on the first dress I found. “Sienna, tell them I’m coming. Now.”
“I’m already there. Just hurry.”
The call ended, but her panic lingered in my chest like smoke.
My heart was thundering, not because I was worried about Xavier anymore—but because I hadn’t seen my father in weeks. Not since the wedding. Not since I left him behind at that aisle, with nothing but guilt and cold silence.
And now… now he was possibly dying.
I ran through the hallway barefoot, not bothering to find a driver. I needed answers, and I needed them now.
As I threw open the front door, I nearly slammed into him.
Xavier.
His eyes widened when he saw me. He looked like hell—his shirt rumpled, hair wild, lips parted like he wanted to speak but couldn’t decide how.
“Athena—”
“I don’t have time,” I snapped, trying to move past him.
He stepped in my way.
“Where are you going?”
“Move, Xavier.” My eyes stung. “My father’s in the hospital.”
“What?”
“He collapsed this morning. Internal bleeding, maybe worse. And I don’t have time to—”
He didn’t let me finish. He grabbed my hand. “I’ll take you.”
I hesitated.
For all the obsession, the dark hunger, the overwhelming heat of what we were becoming… he looked wrecked.
He led me to his car without another word, and I climbed in beside him. The drive was tense. Silent.
But my head wasn’t.
I was remembering everything—my father's warning, the way he used to brush my hair behind my ear when I was little and call me his starlight. The way he cried the night my mother died, clutching her picture like a lifeline.
And how I’d left him, without explanation, for the man who now sat beside me gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles had gone white.
I broke the silence first.
“You weren’t there when I woke up.”
He flinched. “I needed air.”
“I thought you regretted it.”
He looked at me, jaw tight. “Athena. I could never regret you.”
My throat tightened.
“I don’t know what we are anymore, Xavier,” I whispered. “But you scare me. The way you look at me sometimes.”
“I don’t just look at you like that,” he muttered, eyes on the road. “I do own you.”
“See?” I said bitterly. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
He slammed the brake too hard at a red light. “You ran on our wedding day, Athena. I searched for you like a madman. You were gone for hours. Do you know what that did to me?”
“I had to breathe,” I choked. “I couldn’t be my mother, Xavier. I won’t die because someone loves me too much.”
His head snapped toward me. “Is that what you think I’ll do? Kill you with my love?”
I didn’t answer.
Because some days, it felt that way. Not with bruises or hands—but with control, with heat that smothered and passion that burned so fiercely I couldn’t tell if it was love or madness.
The hospital came into view, and I practically jumped out of the car before it fully stopped. I rushed through the entrance and found Sienna near the reception desk.
She pulled me into a hug. “He’s in ICU. He asked for you.”
My knees buckled slightly, but I forced myself to stay upright.
Xavier was close behind, but I turned to him.
“Wait here.”
He looked like he wanted to argue.
“I need this moment,” I said. “Alone.”
He nodded once. Reluctantly.
---
The ICU room was quiet except for the beep of machines.
My father looked smaller than I remembered. Older. Like life had wrung the youth out of him since I last saw him.
His eyes opened slowly when I stepped in.
“Athena,” he rasped.
“Hey, Dad.” My voice broke.
He smiled weakly. “You look like your mother.”
I reached for his hand and squeezed it.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“For what?”
“For… for everything. For marrying Xavier. For leaving you. For not visiting.”
He blinked slowly. “He loves you, you know.”
I froze. “What?”
“Xavier.” His fingers twitched in mine. “He came here last week. Asked for my blessing. Even when I didn’t give it, he didn’t give up. That kind of love... it’s dangerous, yes. But it’s also rare.”
Tears rolled silently down my cheeks.
“I thought you didn’t support the marriage.”
“I didn’t. Not at first. But seeing the way he looks at you? That man would burn the world for you.”
I swallowed hard.
He squeezed my hand weakly. “Just… make sure you don’t lose yourself in the fire.”
I nodded, tears spilling freely now.
“I love you, Dad.”
“I love you more, starlight.”
---
When I came back into the waiting area, Xavier stood up immediately.
He didn’t ask what happened.
He didn’t touch me.
He just opened his arms, and I walked into them.
For the first time, I let myself believe maybe—just maybe—he could love me and I could still remain me.
But deep down, I knew…
This was only the beginning.
- Writer
