Chapter 8: The Morning After Wreckage
744 Words
Chapter 8: The Morning After Wreckage
(Pain Hides in Silence)
Aria couldn’t breathe.
The door clicked shut behind her, sealing her in the suite with Cade’s silence.
He didn’t move. Didn’t shout. Didn’t accuse.
He just stared at her like he didn’t recognize the woman in front of him anymore.
And maybe he didn’t.
She stood there in last night’s dress, makeup smudged, neck flushed from kisses that didn’t belong to him. Her heels felt like lead. Her chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.
“Say something,” she whispered.
Cade’s jaw twitched. “I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”
Her stomach twisted. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” he snapped, rising to his feet. “Don’t act calm? Don’t act like I didn’t wait up all night wondering if you were okay, only to see you walk in like—like this?”
Aria stepped back instinctively, but he didn’t follow.
His voice dropped, raw and bitter. “I could still smell him on you the second you opened the door.”
Her hand flew to her neck, covering nothing. “You don’t get to be jealous, Cade. You gave that right up the minute you pushed me away.”
“I pushed you away,” he bit out, “because I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?” she snapped. “From you? From feeling something? From finally being human around me?”
Cade laughed, harsh and broken. “You think this,” he gestured between them, “was ever about not feeling? I felt everything, Aria. That was the problem.”
She didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not in front of him. But the burn was there, clawing at her throat.
“You kissed me last night,” she said, softer now. “And then you left like it didn’t mean anything.”
“It meant too much,” he said. “And I didn’t know what to do with that.”
She stared at him. “So you let Damon do something with it instead?”
His eyes darkened, full of fire and fury. “Don’t talk about him. Don’t say his name like it’s supposed to hurt me. You think I don’t know what he is?”
“I don’t care what you think he is,” she said. “Because he’s the only one who’s shown up for me without making me feel like a mistake.”
Cade flinched. Just once. But she saw it.
“Is that what I made you feel?” he asked, voice quiet. “Like a mistake?”
She blinked back tears. “Every damn day.”
The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was jagged. Heavy.
Cade took a shaky breath, then crossed the room slowly. His hand hovered near hers—but he didn’t touch her.
“I never stopped wanting you,” he said. “Not even for a second.”
Aria’s heart twisted.
“Then why did you keep pushing me into Damon’s arms?”
“Because if you stayed in mine…” He met her eyes. “I was afraid I wouldn’t ever let you go.”
Her breath hitched. “You still lost me.”
“I know.”
His voice cracked. Just slightly. And for a second, he looked like a man on the edge.
She turned away, her hands shaking. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t be your almost. Your maybe. Your what-if.”
“I want to be more,” Cade said behind her.
But she didn’t turn around.
“I don’t trust you,” she whispered. “And I don’t know if I ever will again.”
When she finally faced him, Cade was standing still—defeated. But in his eyes, the storm raged.
“I love you,” he said.
It was the first time he’d ever said it out loud.
It felt too late.
Aria walked out without another word.
Her legs carried her down the hall, into the elevator, through the lobby—like she was floating, or falling.
Outside, the city buzzed. But her world was quiet.
Too quiet.
Until a sleek car pulled up beside her.
The window rolled down. Damon’s sunglasses reflected the morning light, but his eyes were locked on her face.
“Get in,” he said.
No questions. No judgment.
Just him.
And this time, she didn’t hesitate.
- Writer
