MEETING HIM

Chapter Thirteen: Tangled Emotions

Natacha’s POV

Natacha felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her mind constantly raced between conflicting emotions, none of which she knew how to deal with. She had never felt this lost before, not even during the years of emotional turmoil after her parents’ separation. But now, with everything she had learned about her father, the discovery of his sexuality, and the complicated mess of her feelings for Alex, she couldn’t escape the storm swirling inside her.

She sat in her bedroom, staring at the unopened books scattered on her desk. The assignments were piling up, but she couldn’t bring herself to focus on them. It was a battle she had long given up on. Instead, her thoughts were consumed by the confusion that Alex had left in her heart. She had never been the type of girl to let emotions dictate her life, but Alex had changed that. Everything was different now.

What bothered her most was how he had made her feel. It wasn’t just the physical attraction—it was the way he controlled her. At first, it was just a game, a way for her to escape the emotional isolation she had felt for so long. She had never thought she would fall for someone like him, someone so domineering, but she did. She couldn’t deny it anymore.

Her relationship with Eric was crumbling as well. She tried to pretend that everything was fine when he called, but it felt like she was drifting further and further away from him, and not just physically. The guilt gnawed at her. She hadn’t done anything with Alex, at least not in the way she imagined—but every time she looked at Eric, the guilt doubled. She couldn’t be honest with him, and the lies were starting to eat away at her.

She thought about the last time she had seen Alex. The way he looked at her—intense, possessive, and almost desperate. It wasn’t something she could easily forget. But was it healthy to continue with this? Was she falling into the same trap of emotional manipulation that Alex had placed around her? She had to admit, part of her didn’t want it to end. The thrill of his dominance was addictive, even though it terrified her at times.

The door to her room creaked open, and Natacha’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Her father had been more present ever since she’d come back to live with him. He was trying, she could tell, but it felt forced. It wasn’t the same as when she was younger and they had a somewhat more affectionate bond. Now, everything was strained, and the truth about his sexuality only complicated things further.

“Natacha,” her father’s voice broke through her thoughts, and she turned to face him. “I need you to focus on your schoolwork. You’ve been slacking off for the past week.”

She sighed, trying to keep her frustration in check. “I’m not slacking off, Dad. I just don’t feel like it right now.”

Her father’s brow furrowed, and she could see the hint of concern in his eyes. “What’s going on with you?”

Natacha clenched her fists under the desk. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk to him, but she didn’t know how to explain what was going on inside her. How could she tell him that she had been thinking about Alex constantly? That she was tangled in a web of guilt over Eric and trapped in a world she didn’t understand? She knew he wouldn’t understand, and she wasn’t sure she could even explain it to herself.

“I’m fine, really,” she lied, her voice flat. “Just… tired.”

He didn’t seem convinced. “You’re always tired lately. You’ve been skipping school, too. Is this about something else? Something that happened between you and your mother?”

Natacha looked away, unable to meet his gaze. Her mother’s presence loomed over her, but the issue wasn’t about her. It was more about the emptiness she felt every day, a gnawing feeling that she couldn’t explain. And it wasn’t just about her father or the secrets he kept—it was about her, about who she was becoming.

“I’m not interested in talking about her,” Natacha said, her voice sharper than she intended. Her father stiffened, and she immediately regretted the tone. “Sorry,” she muttered, her voice quiet now.

He hesitated before nodding. “I understand. Just promise me you’ll focus on your studies. You’re capable of so much more, Natacha.”

She nodded, but she didn’t feel the connection she used to feel when he said things like that. It was all words now, empty words. She wasn’t even sure if he cared enough to see how much she was struggling. Her father had always been distant, but now it felt like he was trying too hard to bridge a gap that was too wide to cross. He had his own issues with Mr. Delacroix, the man he was now seeing, and Natacha didn’t know how to deal with that, either.

“Okay,” she replied, the weight of everything heavy on her chest.

Her father lingered in the doorway for a moment before sighing and stepping back. “I’ll leave you to it. But if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

She didn’t respond, knowing that talking would never change anything. Not now.

As the door closed behind him, Natacha exhaled, her breath shaky. The chaos inside her was overwhelming. Alex, her father, Eric—none of them seemed to understand her. But what hurt more was that she didn’t understand herself. How could she know what was right when every emotion she felt conflicted with the next?

It was that same day when she found herself walking aimlessly through the city, unsure of where she was headed. She ended up outside Mr. Delacroix’s apartment building. She hadn’t planned it; it just happened. She knew that Mr. Delacroix was a comforting presence in her life, but she never intended to get too close to him. Still, something about him made her feel like maybe, just maybe, he could offer the emotional stability her father couldn’t.

With a hesitant breath, she stepped inside the building. The moment the elevator doors opened, her heart skipped. She wasn’t sure if it was excitement or nervousness that had her so keyed up. What was she doing? But she needed answers, she needed to talk to someone, and Mr. Delacroix was the only one who seemed to understand the way her father couldn’t.

Her knock on the door was soft, but Mr. Delacroix opened it almost immediately, as if he had been expecting her. There was an ease about him that made her feel a little less uncertain. He didn’t ask questions—he simply stepped aside and let her in.

“You seem troubled, Natacha,” he said, his voice gentle but perceptive. He gestured for her to sit down. “Would you like to talk?”

Natacha hesitated for a moment before sitting on the couch. She felt his calm energy surround her, and for the first time in a while, she didn’t feel so alone. She looked at him, searching for answers, searching for anything that could bring clarity to her chaotic thoughts.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she admitted. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m so confused.”

Mr. Delacroix sat down beside her, his presence steady and reassuring. “Confusion is natural when emotions get tangled, Natacha. You’re not alone in this.”

The silence between them was comforting. Natacha didn’t feel judged, and that was more than she could say for most of the people in her life.

“I feel like I’m betraying everyone,” she confessed, her voice trembling slightly. “Eric doesn’t deserve this. But I can’t stop thinking about Alex. And then my father…” She trailed off, not knowing how to express the frustration she felt with him.

Mr. Delacroix’s expression softened. “It’s not betrayal if you’re being true to yourself, Natacha. You have to follow your heart, but you also have to understand that it’s okay to be confused. Emotions aren’t always straightforward. They’re complicated, especially when we don’t know what we want.”

Natacha nodded, grateful for his words, though they didn’t make her feel completely better. She still didn’t have the answers she was desperately seeking.