🔥 Chapter 19 - Love In the Middle of a War”
1723 Words
Michael held her tightly — too tightly — like he was afraid she might disappear if he loosened his grip even for a second.
Ella stood stiff in his arms, her breathing uneven.
Not crying.
Not melting.
Just angry.
“Ella…” he murmured into her neck, voice rough. “Baby, please…”
She pushed him back a little, eyes sharp.
“You don’t get to disappear for hours, then show up whispering sweet words like nothing happened.”
Michael exhaled, frustrated. “I needed time.”
“And I needed the truth.”
Her voice cut like ice. “But you can’t even say his name.”
Michael’s jaw clenched, a muscle jumping.
“Ella. Not tonight.”
“Then when?” she shot back. “When you lose your temper again? When you shut me out again? When you act like I’m some outsider?”
He ran a hand through his messy hair. “Damn it, Ella, I came here so we could fix this — not fight more.”
“Then talk to me.”
“I don’t WANT to talk!” he snapped.
She laughed — low, cold.
“Of course you don’t. It’s easier to pretend everything’s fine. Easier to expect me to just forgive and—”
“Why won’t you tell me what happened between you two? What are you so afraid of, Michael?”
His jaw tightened. “Drop it.”
“No.” Her voice rose. “I’m tired of pretending it doesn’t bother me. You run from your own name like it’s poison. Why? What did he do to you?”
He exploded. “YOU DON’T GET TO ASK THAT!”
“You want trust? Then give me yours!”
“I said STOP!”
Ella stepped closer, eyes fierce.
“Every time his name comes up, you turn into someone I don’t recognize!”
Michael slammed his palm against the wall.
“ It’s NONE of your business!”
Ella froze.
“And that,” she whispered, voice shaking with anger, “is exactly why we’re fighting.”
He looked pained but stubborn. “Ella—”
“No. I’m done repeating myself.”
She walked straight past him and into the bedroom, slamming the door.
Michael stayed standing there for minutes before dropping onto the couch like a broken man.
All night they lay in separate darkness, both awake, both furious, both hurting.
He stared at the ceiling.
She stared at the wall.
It was well past midnight when the apartment grew silent again.
Ella lay stiff on her side of the bed, staring at the wall, refusing to let herself think of him.
The door opened with a soft click.
She didn’t move—but every nerve in her body woke.
Michael stepped inside quietly.
For a long moment, he just stood there. Breathing. Watching her silhouette under the blanket. Something raw flickered across his face—regret, longing, guilt… all tangled.
Then he walked toward the bed.
Ella sensed him before she saw him.
She shifted just a little, moving to the other side of the bed.
A silent invitation.
Michael exhaled—a sound full of relief and pain.
He lay down beside her.
At first, he left distance between them. A cold line of air.
He stared up at the ceiling, hands clenched, chest rising too fast.
She kept her back to him, heart pounding in a stubborn, angry rhythm.
Minutes passed. Heavy. Slow.
Then—He turned toward her.
His hand moved hesitantly at first… then found her waist.
His arm locked around her.
His chest pressed against her spine.
And he lowered his lips to her neck.
A single kiss.
Soft.
Apologetic.
Ella’s breath caught, but she didn’t turn.
He buried his face into the curve of her shoulder and held her tighter.
In the dark, they said nothing.
They slept pressed together—
hurting, angry, stubborn…
but not apart.
---
In the morning Michael woke first.
For a few seconds, he didn’t know where he was—only that warmth pressed against him, soft breaths filling the space between them. Then he looked down and saw her.
Ella.
Her hair messy against the pillow, her lashes resting on cheeks still faintly flushed from sleep.
His arm was still around her, his face close to her shoulder.
He had fallen asleep holding her like a lifeline.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t dare.
He just watched her.
There was something fragile about the moment… something he was afraid to break.
After a minute or two, she stirred. Slowly. Her hand shifted, her shoulders tensed. Then she blinked her eyes open and turned just enough to see him.
Their eyes met.
And the anger—sharp, burning, unforgiving—melted just a little.
Just enough for the room to breathe again.
Michael swallowed, voice rough from sleep and everything he didn’t know how to say.
“Forgive me… please,” he whispered.
“I didn’t want to talk to you like that last night.”
Ella blinked once, her expression unreadable.
He continued, more desperate now.
“All my problems… my happiness… my sadness—everything is your business. All of it.”
Her chest tightened at those words.
Because those were the exact things he had denied the night before.
The exact pain that had made her walk away from him.
Her eyes dropped to the blanket. She didn’t speak.
Michael searched her face, trying to find a crack in the wall she had rebuilt overnight.
Softly, almost breaking:
“I love you. You know that.”
She nodded once.
“Yes.”
But nothing more.
No warmth.
No answer.
Just the truth wrapped in hurt.
Michael exhaled shakily.
“Do you… love me too?”
Silence.
Not because she didn’t.
But because the pain was still sitting too close to her heart.
Ella slowly pushed back the blanket and sat up without a word.
She didn’t look at him.
Michael watched her, breath caught in his throat, as she stood and walked across the room. Each step felt like a door closing.
She reached the bathroom.
Paused for the shortest second.
Then closed the door gently—
not slammed, but final.
Michael ran a hand over his face, staring at the door she disappeared behind, feeling that tiny, quiet click echo louder than last night’s shouting.
---
Ella stayed in the bathroom longer than necessary.
Not because she was doing anything—
but because she needed space to breathe without him watching her with those wounded eyes.
When she finally came out, Michael was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly.
He looked up immediately.
“Ella…”
She ignored the softness in his voice.
Walked straight to her closet.
Chose her clothes without looking his way.
Michael stood slowly, almost cautiously.
As if any wrong move would send her running again.
He followed her into the kitchen.
She prepared coffee in silence.
He leaned on the counter, arms crossed—not defensive, but nervous.
“We should… talk,” he tried carefully.
She didn’t turn.
Didn’t look.
Didn’t answer.
Just placed her mug down and walked to the door.
Michael closed his eyes for a second, then followed her.
The silence between them made him angry and upset at the same time.
---
The ride to work was suffocatingly quiet.
Michael kept glancing at her, searching for an opening, a piece of her, anything.
“You want to drink coffee?”
“No.”
“Breakfast?”
“No.”
“Ella… look at me.”
She didn’t.
Just stared out the window, her jaw tight, her hands still, her eyes empty of the fire she usually gave him.
That absence hurt the most.
Michael gripped the steering wheel hard enough to make his knuckles pale.
He wasn’t used to this version of her.
This calm, cold, unreachable one.
He preferred her shouting, fighting, pushing back.
Silence was worse.
Silence meant she was retreating.
---
When they arrived, Ella stepped out before the engine even stopped.
Michael exhaled sharply and followed her inside, but she already sat at her desk, opening her laptop, cold and distant.
He opened his office door—
And Alina walked in right behind him.
"MORNING, DEAR"
Ella froze.
Michael saw it, but pretend not to hear.
Alina walked in slowly after him, she shut the door behind her but left the blinds open, perfectly aware Ella could see.
She leaned on Michael’s desk, far too close.
“Rough morning?” she asked with a smirk.
Michael didn’t answer again.
Her fingers grazed his sleeve.
“You look stressed. Maybe I can—”
Ella’s blood boiled.
Michael’s jaw flexed.
He saw Ella watching.
And then—
he did the stupidest thing possible.
He leaned in closer to Alina to make her jealous.
A single deliberate inch.
Ella stood abruptly.
Her chair slammed back against the wall.
She stormed into his office.
“Move away from him,” she snapped at Alina.
Alina smirked. “Why? We’re just talking—”
“I SAID MOVE.”
Michael stepped between them instantly.
But Ella wasn’t done.
She jabbed a finger at him, fury shaking through her voice.
“You made a fool of me yesterday. You embarrassed me. You shut me out. AND THIS—”
She pointed at Alina.
“—this is what you think is okay?”
Her voice broke at the end—but not from tears.
From betrayal.
Michael’s chest tightened.
He didn’t want her to hurt.
He wanted her to fight him, scream at him, shove him—
Because that meant she still cared.
He grabbed her waist, pulled her close, ignoring everyone watching.
“Ella,” he said firmly, fiercely,
“I LOVE YOU.”
She froze.
He continued, louder this time, voice echoing through the office:
“I can’t live without you anymore.”
People had stopped working.
Everyone was staring.
She turned and exit the room slowly.
He didn’t care.
“Do you HEAR ME. Let all the people , all the world hear...I LOVE YOU..”
The world went silent.
Alina’s smile vanished.
Ella stared at him—
shock, anger, heartbreak, love, everything colliding at once.
Her breath caught.
Her lips parted.
But she didn’t answer.
- Writer
