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Alaric’s POV
The house was quiet, too quiet, as I sat in my office with a glass of whiskey that I hadn’t touched in over an hour. The amber liquid caught the dim light of the desk lamp, swirling lazily as if mocking my restless mind. Emilia was in the next room, probably pacing, possibly crying, but definitely not telling me everything she was thinking. That was the problem with her. She’d shoulder a world of burdens without letting anyone else carry even a fraction of the weight.
And it was killing me.
I heard the soft creak of the door opening, and when I looked up, there she was. Her hair was slightly disheveled, her face weary, but there was something very dull in her expression. She didn’t wait for me to invite her in-she rarely did these days. Instead, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts.
“Are you going to stand there all night?” I asked, my voice rougher than I intended.
She crossed the room and sat in the chair across from me, her hands folded in her lap. Her silence wasn’t comforting; it was like the calm before a storm, and I braced myself for whatever was coming.
“I need to talk to you about today,” she said finally, her voice soft but steady.
I leaned back in my chair, setting the untouched whiskey on the desk. “Go ahead.”
She exhaled, her gaze flicking down to her hands. “I know you’re angry with me for going to see him.”
“Angry doesn’t quite cover it,” I muttered.
Her eyes shot up to meet mine, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of defiance there. “I had to, Alaric. You know that.”
“No,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “What I know is that every time you walk into Alonso’s orbit, you’re putting yourself at risk. And for what? More lies? More manipulation?”
“It wasn’t like that,” she said, her voice rising. “He told me things I needed to hear. Things about my mother.”
“And you believe him?” I challenged.
She flinched, and guilt stabbed at me, but I didn’t back down.
“I don’t know what to believe,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “But I can’t keep carrying all this anger, Alaric. I can’t live my life defined by what he did or didn’t do. I need… I need peace. For me.”
I stared at her, the vulnerability in her voice twisting something inside me. “And you think you’ll find peace by talking to him?”
She nodded, her hands tightening in her lap. “I don’t know if I can forgive him, but I want to move forward. I can’t do that if I keep avoiding him, pretending he doesn’t exist.”
My jaw tightened, and I looked away, trying to rein in the fury bubbling just beneath the surface. “You’re a better person than I am,” I said finally, my voice low.
She leaned forward, her eyes searching mine. “It’s not about being better, Alaric. It’s about survival. Carrying this hatred, this anger-it’s exhausting. And it’s not just hurting me. It’s hurting us.”
Her words hit their mark, and I let out a slow breath. She wasn’t wrong. My hatred for Alonso wasn’t just a personal vendetta anymore-it was a wedge between us and if was one I didn’t know how to remove.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I admitted. “How you even entertain the idea of forgiving him after everything he’s done.”
“I don’t know if I can forgive him,” she said again, her voice steady. “But forgiveness isn’t about him, Alaric. It’s about me. About letting go of the hold he has over my life.”
I rubbed a hand over my face, the weight of her words sinking in. “I can’t forgive him, Emilia. I won’t.”
“I’m not asking you to,” she said quickly. “I know what he’s done to you, to your family. But this isn’t about you and Alonso. It’s about me and my mother and everything I’ve lost because of him.”
Her words sliced through the fog of my anger, leaving behind a clarity I didn’t want but couldn’t ignore. She wasn’t asking me to let go of my hatred, she was asking me to let her find her own way.
“What do you want from me, Emilia?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
“I want you to trust me,” she said simply. “I want you to trust that I know what I’m doing, that I’m not walking into this blindly. And I want you to be there for me, even if you don’t agree with how I handle this.”
I looked at her, really looked at her, and saw how heavy and tiring it must be for her to handle everything. It wasn’t just about Alonso or her mother anymore-it was about everything. The lies, the betrayals, the fear. She was trying to make sense of a world that had been shattered, and all I’d been doing was adding to the chaos.
“I’ll support you,” I said finally, the words tasting foreign on my tongue. “But don’t ask me to like it. And don’t ask me to forgive him.”
“I won’t,” she promised, her voice soft but resolute. “This isn’t about him, Alaric. It’s about us. About our future.”
Our future. The words hung in the air between us, filled with so much possibilities that despite everything, I found myself smiling slightly. .
“I still want him dead,” I said bluntly, unable to help myself.
She sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I figured as much.”
“I’m serious, Emilia. If he so much as looks at you the wrong way-”
“I know,” she interrupted gently. “But right now, I need you to focus on us, not him. Can you do that?”
I studied her, the determination in her eyes mingling with a vulnerability that made my chest ache.
“I can try,” I said finally.
It wasn’t a promise, not entirely, but it was the best I could offer.
She nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “That’s all I’m asking.”
For a moment, we just sat there, the tension between us slowly ebbing away.
“Why do you always have to be so damn stubborn?” I muttered, a faint smirk playing at my lips.
“Because someone has to keep you on your toes,” she shot back, her smile widening.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “You’re going to be the death of me, Emilia.”
“Not if I can help it,” she said softly.
The words hung in the air, a quiet promise that felt more powerful than anything we’d said all night.
I reached across the desk, taking her hand in mine. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. Deal?”
“Deal,” she said, her fingers tightening around mine. I sighed, a smile making a way to my face as I kissed her knuckles. For the first time since everything went to shit, I felt like we were on the same page. Even if it was a messy and complicated one. It still made me feel better and that was enough for now.