Chapter 6
920 Words
Chapter 6: No More Running
The moment they stepped outside—
Monica let go of his arm.
Hard.
“What was that?”
Kian ran a hand through his hair, pacing once before turning back to her.
“What was what?”
Her eyes widened. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you didn’t just walk in there and lose your mind over nothing.”
“Nothing?” he repeated, incredulous.
“Yes, nothing! I was having coffee, Kian.
That’s it.”
“With him.”
She let out a frustrated breath. “You don’t even know him.”
“I know enough.”
Monica laughed—but there was no humor in it.
“Wow. You really don’t hear yourself, do you?”
“And you really don’t see it,” he shot back.
“See what?”
“That he was looking at you like—”
“Like what?” she challenged.
Kian stopped.
Jaw tight.
Eyes locked on hers.
“Like I do.”
Silence.
The words hung between them.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Monica’s breath caught.
Just slightly.
“Then maybe you should ask yourself why that bothers you so much,” she said, softer now—but no less sharp.
Kian let out a short laugh.
“You really want to do this here?”
“No,” she replied immediately. “I want to go home.”
“Fine.”
The word came out clipped.
Controlled.
Barely.
“Get in the car.”
The drive was anything but calm.
Tension filled every inch of space between them.
Thick.
Unrelenting.
Monica stared straight ahead, arms crossed.
Kian gripped the steering wheel harder than necessary.
“You don’t get to act like that,” she said finally, breaking the silence.
“Like what?”
“Like you have a say in who I see.”
“I don’t,” he said flatly.
“Really? Because it didn’t look like that back there.”
“Because you let him get close.”
She turned sharply. “And what if I did?”
Kian’s jaw clenched.
“Then you’re making a mistake.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not your decision.”
“No,” he agreed, voice dropping. “But it is my problem.”
“Why?” she demanded.
Silence.
Just the hum of the engine.
The road stretching endlessly ahead.
“Kian.”
Nothing.
“Kian, answer me.”
Still nothing.
“Why?” she repeated, louder this time.
He exhaled sharply.
Like he’d been holding it in for too long.
“Because I can’t stand it.”
The words came out rough.
Unfiltered.
Monica blinked.
“Can’t stand what?”
He pulled the car over again.
More controlled this time.
But no less intense.
Then he turned to her.
Fully.
No distance.
No escape.
“This,” he said, voice low. “You with someone else.”
Her heart started racing.
Fast.
Unsteady.
“That’s not your concern.”
“It is when it’s you.”
A beat.
Another.
Monica shook her head, trying to hold onto her logic.
Her control.
“You don’t get to decide that,” she whispered.
“I’m not deciding anything,” he shot back. “I’m telling you what it is.”
“And what is it, Kian?” she challenged.
He went still.
Completely.
Then—
“It’s you.”
Her breath hitched.
“What?”
“It’s always been you.”
Silence.
The world outside faded.
Because everything inside that car—
Shifted.
“You think I wanted this?” he continued, voice quieter now—but heavier. “You think I wanted to notice you like that? To feel like this every time you walk into a room?”
Monica couldn’t speak.
“I stayed away because I knew,” he said.
“I knew it wouldn’t be simple. I knew it wouldn’t be right.”
Her chest tightened.
“And yet here we are,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he let out a breath. “Here we are.”
A pause.
Then—
“Say something.”
She looked at him.
Really looked.
All the tension.
All the years.
All the almosts.
And suddenly—
She wasn’t scared anymore.
“You think you’re the only one?” she said softly.
Kian stilled.
“I left because of you,” she continued.
“Because I knew if I stayed… this would happen.”
His gaze dropped briefly—then back to hers.
“And now?”
Monica swallowed.
“Now I’m tired of pretending it doesn’t.”
That was it.
That was all it took.
Kian reached for her—
pulling her closer before she could second-guess it.
And this time—
when he kissed her—
There was nothing controlled about it.
It was everything they didn’t say.
Everything they held back.
Everything they tried to ignore—
finally breaking free.
Monica responded instantly.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Her hands gripping his shirt.
Pulling him closer.
Because this wasn’t just tension anymore.
This was truth.
And it burned.
The kiss deepened—
slower this time—
but heavier.
More certain.
Like they both finally understood what this meant.
And chose it anyway.
When they finally pulled apart—
breathing uneven—
foreheads resting lightly together—
Nothing felt the same.
“There’s no going back from this,” Monica whispered.
Kian didn’t even hesitate.
“Good.”
And for the first time—
neither of them tried to run.
- Writer
