#eric moonvale

Once again, I wake up without much expectation for the day

I dragged myself out of bed, brushed my teeth, and tried to tame my hair into something that could pass as presentable. I put on the first clean sweater I could find.

Plim.

The soft chime of a message broke through the automatic rhythm of my morning.

I picked up my phone.

Eric: Good morning, sleepyhead! I got croissants from your favorite bakery. Eric: Thought we could have breakfast together. Eric: Love you <3

A small smile tugged at my lips.

Eric was perfect.

The perfect boyfriend. The perfect partner. The perfect friend.

Exactly what I needed.

I repeated the thought in my mind like a mantra, as if saying it often enough would make it undeniably true.

Two years had passed since Duskwood—786 days, to be exact.

786 days waiting for someone who never came back, someone who left without looking back.

Eric pulled me out of that self-destructive spiral, when we met by coincidence during another case I got involved in months later.

Without him… I didn’t even want to imagine who I might have become.

While setting the table for breakfast, the doorbell rang.

I glanced once more at the mirror but didn’t bother fixing anything else.

“Hey—” - The word died in my throat when I opened the door.

The man standing there was completely still, staring at me as if he had just seen a ghost.

“…Yes?”

He didn’t answer right away.

“I think you might have the wrong house,” I said finally, already reaching to close the door.

“No.” His voice was quiet.

Then he looked straight at me.

“No, MC. I’m not at the wrong house.”

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

“Have we met?” I asked slowly. “I don’t remember—”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he said with a small, guilty smile. “It’s been a long time.”

And suddenly it hit me.

Jake.

My breath caught.

“…Jake?”

“I’m sorry, MC.” His voice cracked slightly. “I’m really sorry.”

The anger came all at once.

“How dare you…” My hands started shaking. “How dare you show up here after two years?”

My voice rose before I could stop it.

“Two years, Jake!”

The sudden silence felt suffocating.

A few neighbors were already peeking outside, curious about the noise.

“Come in,” I said sharply.

He obeyed without hesitation.

I closed the door behind us.

“I thought you were dead,” I whispered.

“It was necessary,” Jake said quietly. “I had to cut all contact.”

He looked directly into my eyes.

Something I had once longed for more than anything.

Now it only made my stomach twist.

“Necessary?” I laughed bitterly.

“For us,” he insisted. “I did it for us.”

“Us?” I snapped. “You did it for yourself!”

I turned away before he could see the tears forming in my eyes.

“Please don’t say that,” he said softly. “It wasn’t easy. It was torture not talking to you for two years. Every single day I had to stop myself from running back to you.”

His words hurt more than I expected.

“Jake… there is no us anymore,” I said quietly. “It’s too late.”

His eyes slowly moved around the room.

The table set for two.

Pictures on the shelf.

A man’s sweater hanging by the entrance.

“How long?” he asked.

I sat down heavily in the chair.

“Seven months.”

Jake exhaled slowly.

“Was it that easy?”

“What?”

“To replace us.” His voice was sharp now. “You didn’t even know if I’d come back, and you moved on anyway.”

“Don’t try to blame me for this, Jake!” I snapped. “Life moved forward. And so did I.”

“I can see that.”

“You don’t have the right—”

“You’re not the only one who suffered, MC!” he interrupted, raising his voice for the first time.

The words hung heavy in the air.

“I know exactly how long those two years were,” he continued more quietly. “Because I was separated from you too.” - He ran a hand over his face.

“It felt like someone was ripping my heart out every time I thought about you.”

My chest tightened.

“There were so many times I thought maybe… one hour with you would be worth a lifetime in prison.” - He laughed bitterly. -“Five minutes even. Just seeing you. Touching you.”

He reached toward me, but stopped himself.

“That would’ve been enough.”

His eyes burned with emotion.

“The only thing that kept me going was believing that if I could lose my pursuers long enough… I could still have what I always wanted.”

“And what’s that?” I asked quietly.

“A life with you.” - He gestured around the room. - “But clearly… you’ve already built that with someone else.”

“It wasn’t easy, Jake. I waited—tirelessly—for a long time. I could have destroyed myself waiting for someone who might never come back. Eric saved me.” I said finally.

“Eric.” - The name tasted bitter when he repeated it. - “…Is that his name?”

I nodded.

“He’s kind. Loyal. Stable.” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I met his parents last month.”

I looked at him helplessly.

“You can’t do this to me, Jake.”

“If he’s so perfect” - Jake said quietly - “then why are you crying?”

The question shattered the fragile calm between us.

“Tell me to leave” - he said suddenly. - “Tell me to disappear from your life forever.”

“I should,” I murmured.

“Then look me in the eyes and tell me you’re completely happy.” - His voice hardened. - “And I’ll go.”

But I couldn’t.

I stared at the floor instead.

Jake sighed softly.

“Just like I thought.”

He stepped closer, gently lifting my chin.

“He’s good,” he said. “But he’s not enough. Right?”

My voice trembled.

“…Because of you.”

I placed my hand over his.

“It was always you.”

The guilt crushed my chest.

I had a boyfriend.

A stable life.

Plans.

Dreams.

Everything.

So why…

Why was I willing to throw it all away for him?

Our eyes locked again.

“I’m here now,” - Jake said softly. - “I can finally give you everything you dreamed about.”

His voice trembled.

“I can touch you. Kiss you. Hold you the way I always wanted.”

A painful smile escaped me.

“We can go on a real date,” - he continued. - “Go to the Chinese restaurant… or anywhere else you want.”

He swallowed hard.

“I’ll do anything.” - His eyes pleaded with mine. - “Just tell me you choose me.”

My heart pounded wildly.

Maybe I was stupid.

Maybe I was crazy.

Maybe both.

But no matter how painful the last two years had been…

Cleo’s call was the trigger that shattered my fragile calm. Seeing Richy’s face on that video call, after all the pain... It didn’t amuse me in the slightest. On the contrary, I felt the blood rush straight to my head.

How did Cleo expect me to keep something like that secret? How did she expect me to look the other way while Jessy was still broken by his absence?

Keeping the truth from her felt like a betrayal of my own, a burden I wasn’t willing to carry.

I turned off the car engine, glancing over what Dan had called the old gravel plant.

Cleo was waiting for me at the entrance, hunched against the cold. When she saw me, her shoulders relaxed and she seemed to let go of some invisible weight. I don’t think she actually expected me to show up here—not with the FBI still circling the area and Alan still wanting to question me.

My boots crunched over the stones on the path, grinding the damp gravel beneath my soles; a dry, steady sound. The place smelled of wet earth, and every exhale turned into a pale cloud in front of my face.

“It’s this way” she said, leading me further inside.

The gravel plant was enormous, the perfect place to hide for a while thanks to the sheer size of the facilities. With warning signs about cave-ins guarding the entrance, it was unlikely anyone would risk wandering around there.

Anyone except us.

I didn’t want to believe what I had seen during that video call. I had tried to convince myself it was impossible, that Richard Rogers was truly dead and that, if he weren’t, he would have turned himself in.

But Richy was there.

Beneath the layer of grime covering his face, he was there.

Alive.

Injured.

Pathetic.

I could still recognize him even from several feet away. His dark blond hair, his tired eyes, those thin lips.

There was something deeply insulting about his survival, a mixture of fragility and guilt that churned my stomach. Seeing him there, accepting Cleo’s backpack with an evasive look in his eyes, didn’t make me feel pity, only an indignation that burned my throat.

The contempt must have been written all over my face by the time his eyes landed on me. I could feel it in the tightness of my lips as I fought not to scream at him, and in the slight twitch beneath my eye.

“MC...” he whispered, surprised to see me there.

His voice sent a sharp pang through me. For a moment, I remembered our past conversations, those times when nothing seemed to be what it was, when it felt impossible that he could be capable of hurting Jessy, kidnapping Hannah, lying to all of them… lying to me.

So many times I tried to deceive myself, to believe that maybe, for once, my suspicions were wrong.

Even though deep down I had always known the truth.

Cleo remained silent, waiting for my reaction just like the ghost standing before me. I wanted to feel nothing but anger, wanted Richy’s mere presence to disgust me, but somewhere deep down—buried now—there was still sadness for someone I had once considered my friend.

“Where is he?” My voice came out sharper than i intended, stripped of any kindness.

Richy hesitated before answering, uncertain of how he should act around me. During our last conversation, he had asked if I believed him when he said he was sorry, and yet even now, standing in front of him, I still couldn’t find the answer.

“He’s not here,” he said, tightening his grip on the backpack straps. “He left shortly after we managed to get out of the tunnels.”

Jake wouldn’t stay in one place for long.

He couldn’t, especially not with him.

“There were helicopters searching for him that night... maybe two or three. I managed to guide us toward another exit, farther away, enough to buy us some time,” he explained, his eyelids lowering over his brown eyes for a few seconds. “He didn’t stay here with me, if that’s what you want to know. We split up in the woods after I pointed him toward somewhere he could go.”

From his expression, i knew he hadn’t the faintest idea whether Jake had followed his advice. I could also tell he wouldn’t be able to help me find him.

I had held onto the hope of finally learning something more about him, something that could tell me where he was and how I could help him, but now I felt farther away than ever.

“Was he hurt?” I asked. The image of the torn jacket Alan had shown in that video flashed through my mind like lightning, burning through me.

What condition was he in now, if that was the case?

How badly had he been hurt?

In the end, i got my confirmation the moment the former mechanic nodded slowly.

“It must’ve happened when he tried to get me out of there...” Richy lowered his gaze, and my jaw tightened at his words. “The fire was too close to us when he found me.”

A deafening buzzing began to grow in my ears.

Jake had risked his life. He was injured and alone, with the FBI probably closer to him than ever.

Maybe they had caught him. Maybe Dan was right, and the only reason they were pulling back was because they already had him.

Before I could process it, and with a force I didn’t know I possessed, I shoved Richy against the wall. My fingers dug hard into the fabric of his filthy clothes. Cleo let out a choked gasp at the sharp sound of the impact.

My breathing trembled.

If i lost someone else...

If i lost him...

“And you just let him go like that?” I hissed through clenched teeth. The air around me seemed to vibrate with tension. “You just split up? You just pointed him somewhere and left?”

“I had no choice.”

“You had no choice?” I repeated. “He saved your life!”

I felt capable of tearing the skin from his face if I wanted to.

No one had forced him into this. He alone was responsible for everything spiraling out of control.

“You’re a coward. A damn hypocrite, that’s what you are,” I spat, pouring every ounce of contempt and rage i could into the words.

I felt so helpless that i could simply...

It wasn’t just anger. It was the need to demand justice, to force someone to pay after so much suffering, the visceral need to unload the suffocating fear of losing Jake onto someone.

“How can you still stand here? How do you sleep after everything you’ve done?” I couldn’t understand it. I couldn’t understand how Richy had chosen to hide, to run from his crimes.

“MC, stop!” Cleo’s shout behind me sounded distorted.

I don’t want to stop.

Richy’s dark eyes locked onto mine. He didn’t resist or try to push me away. He simply accepted it. He accepted the punishment with a resignation that made me sick, and that only made me hate him more.

I couldn’t recognize him as either an old friend or an enemy.

“Richy, it’s important that we find him. If you could tell us where he is...” Cleo’s urgency was obvious, but Richy only shook his head.

“He only said he needed to find you” he murmured, looking directly into my eyes.

My lower lip twitched at his words. I tightened my fists around his jacket, feeling the air leave my lungs.

He was looking for me.

Jake.

A burning knot settled in my throat, suffocating me. I fought to keep my gaze fixed on him, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to blur everything.

“He saved me, even though he beat the hell out of me once we were safe,” Richy let out a weak laugh while keeping that hollow expression. “He’s got an impressive right hook."

I imagined Jake, injured and exhausted, using what strength he had left not to run, but to make Richy answer for what he had done to me.

My chest ached when i thought about him, alone somewhere in the shadows. I clenched my teeth until my jaw hurt, swallowing down the sob fighting to escape my chest.

“I’m sorry...” Richy stammered, his eyes glassy.

I avoided his gaze, trying to hide any trace of my own weakness. He couldn’t see my tears. I couldn’t allow it.

“I’m tired of your apologies.” My voice came out broken, heavy with a weariness that bent my spine.

My hands released his clothes, and I staggered backward, painfully aware of the blood pounding in my ears.

Richy slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor again, gasping for breath. He covered his face with his dirty hands and, for the first time, the silence between the three of us became absolute. None of us were the same anymore—or rather, our masks had fallen away.

The sweet, innocent mechanic and the benevolent stranger.

I turned toward Cleo, and unable to withstand the icy fury radiating from my eyes, she immediately lowered her gaze, seeking refuge in the shadows on the ground.

I truly couldn’t understand how she had come to the conclusion that i’d be capable of hiding something like this from Jessy.

“I can’t do this...”

Cleo’s lips moved as she stepped back clumsily. Her hand reached toward me, but my legs had regained a sudden strength and steadiness that forced me down the stairs as quickly as possible.

“I don’t feel like myself.”

“I feel angry all the time...”

The memory of my own words—the ones i had confessed to Nolan a couple of weeks ago—made me stumble on the last step.

I ducked to avoid the debris at the entrance, but the movement was a mistake. The world tilted violently and I lost my balance, forcing me to reach for support that wasn’t there. I tried to breathe, but the attempt was useless; my throat had become a narrow passage that closed tighter every time I tried to inhale.

My knees slammed against the ground with an impact i barely felt, eclipsed by the terror of not being able to breathe. I ended up crawling across the dirt, scraping my palms against the gravel until i reached the shadow of my car.

I hid there like a child, curled into myself with my arms wrapped around my legs, unable to stop the tears and pathetic whimpers of anguish.

The weight of guilt was physical, a pressure in my chest reminding me that i could have done more.

All of this was happening because of me.

I could have insisted harder, ignored every word from Jake and everyone else, and simply gone to the iron mine that night. Taken it all on alone, and in the worst-case scenario, it would have ended with me.

If something had happened to him, it would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I stayed there for a while, listening to my breathing slowly steady itself against the silence of the quarry. And when the trembling in my hands eased a little, I wiped my face with the sleeve of my jacket to get rid of the tears.

I rested my hand on the car door handle and forced myself inside, determined to avoid a conversation with Cleo because I would most likely fall apart in front of her.

Once inside, the silence of the car wrapped around me. I instinctively pulled out my phone, my heart lurching at the slightest possibility of finding something. But the screen lit up showing only my usual wallpaper.

There were no encrypted messages on my phone, no signs of life from Nym-os, only emptiness.

Where would you go, Jake? If you were hurt, if you couldn’t hide here anymore... where would you look for shelter in a place like this?

♤

An hour later, I had managed to make it to Beky’s restaurant. The group was waiting for me inside, since they had grown somewhat used to us gathering to organize our next steps regarding Adam’s disappearance.

Was it dangerous for me to be there? Well, yes. Almost as dangerous as daring to set foot in Duskwood—maybe even more—but the truth was that I was tired of being the only one who never took risks.

I took a second to send Cleo a message. I knew her intention in having me see Richy had never been for me to unleash my anger on him, but to find Jake.

MC:

Sorry for leaving like that.

I’ll talk to you later.

I slipped my phone back into the pocket of my jacket before pushing the door open and heading downstairs.

Redlog was too quiet. A small town, though bigger than Duskwood. Trees were abundant in the area, and people weren’t particularly used to visitors.

Violet was serving a few customers while Charlie, Ash, and Eric sat at a table near the windows where the afternoon light poured in.

Eric was the first to notice me, his face lighting up immediately. I watched his smile grow, changing from a shy line into a wide grin that showed his teeth.

I greeted him with a small wave from the doorway, smiling only as much as my body would allow.

“MC! We thought you’d fallen asleep buried under your books” Charlie joked, making room for me at the table.

“Almost.” I smiled faintly as i dropped into the seat beside him. “But hunger won over exhaustion.”

Eric, seated directly across from me, gave me one last look filled with understanding before glancing toward the counter. I noticed him shifting slightly in his seat, but Charlie’s voice claimed all my attention, becoming the center of the noise around me.

“Well, for someone so tired, you’ve got excellent timing showing up right when the food’s about to come out,” Charlie teased, taking a sip of his drink and shooting me a mischievous look. “Or do you use your detective skills to smell cake all the way from the library?”

Insufferable journalist.

I had to cover my mouth to suppress a laugh when Ash smacked him over the head with her notebook.

“Will you shut up already? We’ve had enough of you,” Ash snapped. Charlie rolled his eyes while rubbing the spot where she’d hit him. “Eric, what do you think about—”

Ash cut herself off when she noticed Eric was no longer sitting with us.

“Where did he go?” she asked, confused.

“He said he needed to stretch his legs or something,” Charlie replied dismissively, diving back into the clues scattered across the table. “You mentioned that on the tape they heard two children, Adam and another girl who—”

I stayed quiet for a moment, listening to them while mentally reviewing everything we knew so far.

Adam and the forest.

Whitmore.

The Greenside Motel.

The stranger.

The recording.

The body.

As for the corpse, the silence remained absolute. No one had even managed to confirm whether it belonged to a man or a woman. Charlie, in a reckless burst of curiosity, had been caught right at the crime scene after slipping under the police tape, only to be dragged back out by officers seconds later.

Two days had passed. What were they waiting for?

Before i could spiral deeper into my thoughts, familiar hands appeared in my line of sight and placed a steaming macchiato alongside a slice of chocolate cake in front of me.

A tiny sound of surprise—almost a sigh—escaped my lips without permission, and all the exhaustion and bitterness of the past hour faded into a distant murmur.

Chocolate...

I looked up at Eric, feeling my eyes brighten for the first time all day with genuine, almost childlike gratitude.

“You said you liked it” he pointed out with a shrug.

I didn’t know what to say beyond a soft, quiet “thank you” confused by the sudden gesture and the fact that he had remembered such an offhand comment. Sweetness flooded my mouth when I tasted the macchiato. It had exactly the right amount of sugar.

Eric sat back down beside Ash, directly across from me, still smiling to himself as though he felt oddly proud. I smiled faintly at the silliness of it before my eyes drifted toward the counter.

A man had stopped in the middle of the room and was staring at us.

I recognized him. I’d crossed paths with him over the past few days. He was the same man who had bumped into me two days ago.

The way he looked at us intrigued me, as though he were trying to see some kind of connection. His blue eyes fixed on me and then on the coffee.

He studied me as if i were a ghost—or an answer he hadn’t expected to find.

What’s wrong with him?

Suddenly, as though waking from a trance, the man stepped backward awkwardly, completely unaware of the woman walking behind him holding a cup of coffee.

The coffee flew into the air before splattering across the floor and all over much of his shirt.

“Good lord,” I murmured as I watched the disaster unfold within seconds.

The man froze, as if he couldn’t comprehend what had happened. I even thought I saw his lips move, though no sound came out.

I stood up with a speed I barely recognized in myself and grabbed the woman by the shoulders to stop her from charging at the stranger. I gave her a smile polished by years of practice, feeling strength return to me, as though strings had appeared on each of my limbs and some puppeteer was guiding every movement with precision.

The man’s eyes—an electric, deep blue—locked onto mine with an intensity that stole my breath.

A gaze filled with silent, almost desperate recognition.

For a moment, I felt as though I could lose myself in those eyes, that there was something dangerous enough there to make me forget why i had stood up from my seat in the first place.

Pushing my curiosity aside, I adopted a worried expression and turned back toward the woman.

“Oh, sweetheart... your shirt!” I exclaimed with feigned urgency, quickly positioning myself between her and the exit.

“Damn it, this cannot be happening,” the woman protested, her face burning with indignation.

She tried to peer over my shoulder, but I moved with her, accidentally blocking her path while clumsily offering her a few napkins.

“Hey! Get back here, you damn—!” she shouted, huffing in complete frustration.

At that exact moment, from the corner of my eye, I saw the man’s shadow cross the doorway and disappear.

I started doubting my own actions.

Did i really let him go just because of a feeling?

“You find idiots like that everywhere,” I assured her, trying to downplay it. “I should have something in my car for that stain.”

The woman let out another frustrated huff, but the tension in her shoulders eased at my insistence. That was when Violet materialized beside us, setting her tray down on a nearby table to help the woman while another employee approached with a mop to clean the spilled coffee.

I could only hope my instincts hadn’t betrayed me.

The cold wind hit my face the moment I stepped outside the café. Of course, I had forgotten my jacket inside, so I suppressed a groan, wrinkling my nose in annoyance before heading toward my car.

I didn’t need to look around to know the man had vanished. Something deep inside me told me that even if I had gone after him, I wouldn’t have caught him. It was as though the street itself had swallowed him whole.

I had given him an opportunity, and he had taken it.

The metallic sound of the trunk echoed through the nearly empty street. Between the mess of clothes, folders, and remnants of my nomadic life because of work, I found the emergency kit I always carried with me.

“God, i’m going to have to organize all of this,” I muttered to myself, instantly irritated. If there was one thing I hated, it was how quickly everything could fall into disorder.

Disorder.

Chaos and more chaos.

A pair of eyes like sea glass.

I shook my head, but it wasn’t enough to erase the image of those blue eyes. His gaze had scanned me with such intense familiarity, as though he knew me from another life—or worse, from a part of my life I tried to keep locked away.

I know you.

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a stab of anxiety as my fingers tightened against the metal edge of the trunk.

I didn’t want to listen to what my intuition seemed to be roaring at me. I couldn’t keep searching for him in every stranger.

Jake wouldn’t risk himself like that. Why would he?

I returned to the café with the stain remover and handed it to the woman, mumbling that she could keep it. My earlier energy had evaporated, so I could no longer pretend I cared about her stain—or anything else happening around me.

I had to apologize to Eric for not finishing the macchiato he had bought me, and I even offered to pay him back, though he refused with a sad smile that made me feel even worse.

When I arrived at my building, I parked the car mechanically before grabbing my keys and the bag containing the cake Violet had packed for me. Redlog was drowned in silence. Some cafés were already closing, and since it was a weekday, most people were probably at home or just getting back from work.

The area where I was staying was quiet and somewhat far from the town center. Hardly anyone lingered around here for long.

I headed toward the entrance with my eyes fixed on the ground, searching for the right key, but something made me stop dead in my tracks.

Everything looked normal in front of me. No movement, no sound, nothing suggesting danger.

And yet, I felt that uncomfortable weight pressing down on me.

The certainty that I wasn’t alone there.

“I don’t like being watched, you know?” I dared to say into the empty air, uncertain but still forcing firmness into my voice.

For a moment, nothing happened, which made me wonder whether exhaustion was making me imagine things—or whether madness had finally started settling inside me.

I had grown up in an environment where I always had to look too closely, observe every detail, interpret faces and silences. So if that instinct was beginning to fail me, then I was lost.

Then I saw him step forward.

The same man from the restaurant.

The hood no longer concealed his face, allowing me to see him completely. His hair was the deepest black I had ever seen; not even under the faint light could I detect a trace of brown. A few strands fell over part of his forehead, though they also seemed to bother his eyes a little.

He didn’t have the polished appearance of someone trying to draw attention, but his sharp features, marked by exhaustion, carried a unique kind of attractiveness capable of stirring something in anyone.

“Do you enjoy spying on people?” I asked, arching a brow.

I crossed my arms, putting distance between us. I should have been uneasy finding him there, so close to my building and only a few steps away from me, but i wasn’t.

He didn’t scare me.

“It’s a bad habit,” he replied with a strangely comforting calmness. “I’ve been told that before.”

Hearing his voice sent warmth through me, like a familiar melody suddenly returning, recognizable from the very first note. I had never heard this man speak before, just as I wouldn’t have recognized him by sight alone.

“Oh really? Haven’t you thought about fixing it?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if the question amused him.

“I tried once, but I discovered there are some people who are impossible to ignore” He dared to take a step toward me. Slow and subtle. “I pay attention to what intrigues me.”

His eyes lingered on me for far too long. Not in an invasive way, but with a silent intensity that made me forget every worry I had been carrying with me.

“You helped a woman whose shirt I had just ruined just to give me a clean way out of that café” He held my gaze, fully aware of the effect he had on me “Why?”

“I hate unnecessary scenes” I replied, looking away, trying to focus on anything other than him, even if only for a few seconds.

“I know that’s not why.”

My fingers tightened around my keys. I had the cowardly urge to run away from there, from that conversation, but i forced myself to stay where I was. My heart was racing, not out of fear, but because of an absurd suspicion that was beginning to take shape in my mind.

“You should be more careful where you walk” I pointed out, catching him off guard. He blinked a couple of times, confused. “If you’re going to keep crossing paths with me, you should work on your balance. You’re a walking accident.”

He let out a short breath, almost a laugh.

“You can call me many things...” His voice was low and rough. “Careless isn’t one of them."

Something inside me struggled to break free, forcing its way through the hardness around my heart. That feeling again, the same one that had hit me in the parking lot.

Two days ago in the park.

And half an hour earlier at the restaurant.

“That’s not what you’ve been implying” I murmured, feeling myself soften around him.

A shadow of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips. Small. Almost nonexistent. But enough to transform his tired face for a second.

I couldn’t handle this. Not when he unraveled me so easily.

“Well, if that’s all, i should go… Good night.” I rushed the words out, and before he could stop me, I headed toward the entrance.

I turned around before he could respond and climbed the first steps of the building, trying to get away from him and from all the doubts eating me alive inside.

“MC” His voice came out almost like a plea.

I froze on the last step, the master key clenched tightly in my fist. Hearing my name fall from his lips was all the proof I needed. A complete stranger would never say my name like that, much less stand still just from seeing me.

It was impossible for a stranger to cross my path three times in less than a week.

My lips pressed together, holding back the knot of emotions beginning to form in my throat.

I slowly turned my head, looking at him from the top of the stairs. I found him with one foot already on the first step, as if he had been ready to come after me.

“You said you wouldn’t disappear” I shot back, my voice trembling but firm.

My words seemed to trigger something inside him, because just the mention of that promise appeared to break the last barrier keeping him away from me.

He climbed another step slowly, but without a trace of the doubt consuming me. His eyes stayed fixed on mine as he moved closer with a silent determination that made me take a tiny step back.

“And I haven’t” he said, and his voice, now that he was so close, sounded even lower, heavier. “I promised you i wouldn’t, MC.”

My heart threatened to burst out of my chest. For a moment, I almost thought he might hear it because of how little space separated us, though Jake had already noticed the effect he had on me.

Neither of us moved. My eyes traveled over his face, lingering on the curve of his lips before meeting his gaze again. He seemed to notice that tiny glance away, because his breathing grew heavier, caught in the narrow space between us.

He lifted one hand, giving me time to pull away if i wanted to, but I knew perfectly well that i wouldn’t—not when his touch was what I had longed for most. His warm fingers brushed along my jawline with extreme care, as if he were afraid I might slip away.

Once he realized i wasn’t going to move away, his hand cupped my cheek, and as if drawn by something magnetic, I leaned into his touch, searching for his warmth.

“You’re trembling” he murmured. It was an unbearably tender observation. His thumb slowly traced the edge of my cheekbone, tilting my face slightly upward.

“It’s the cold” I lied softly, though we both knew it had nothing to do with that.

He didn’t answer with words. He leaned in closer, closing the last few inches between us with a slowness that forced me to close my eyes, anticipating the impact.

Our lips met gently, almost cautiously, as if neither of us wanted to break the moment too soon. It was a soft, exploratory touch… a question suspended between us.

I stayed there a second longer than necessary, feeling the warmth, the faint tremor that i couldn’t tell was his or mine.

And then my hands gripped him tightly, my fingers tangling in the fabric of his jacket, trying to pull him as close as possible.

The kiss became intense, hungry, as if he were trying to reclaim every second of the months of silence in a single touch.

Each time our tongues brushed, the outside world—the FBI, the disappearances, the suspicions—faded away to ashes. Only the rustle of his jacket against my clothes, the sound of our ragged breaths, and the way he sought my mouth, like someone finding water in the desert, existed.

"I found you..." he whispered against my lips, his voice thick with an almost painful relief that finally broke down my last defenses.

"Yes, you did" I nodded between kisses, smiling and seeking his lips again.

I no longer knew when the cold outside had ceased to exist. The next sound I registered was the metallic click of the key turning in the lock and the dull thud of the front door closing behind us.

I gasped against his mouth when his fingers tangled in my hair, tugging with a possessive gentleness that made me arch toward him.

“Don’t go” I managed to whisper between kisses, my voice trembling and my heart pounding against my ribs. “Don’t disappear again.”

“I won’t leave” he promised, and the weight of those words made me tremble more than the winter cold ever could.

I slipped my hands beneath his coat, searching for the warmth of his body through his shirt, then slid them up along his sides to wrap around his back, wanting to hold him so tightly it would be impossible for him to vanish again.

But the moment my fingers pressed against the left side of his back, Jake tensed completely.

A strangled gasp escaped him, a sharp groan muffled against my lips as the kiss abruptly broke apart. He went still, his forehead resting against my shoulder, his breathing ragged and uneven from something that wasn’t passion.

“Jake?” Panic snapped me back to reality in an instant. I pulled my hands away as if burned. “What’s wrong?”

Suddenly, Richy’s words came rushing back to me.

“The fire was too close to us when he found me.”

Driven by fear, I tried to lift his shirt to confirm my suspicions. Guilt twisted in my chest for forgetting what Richy had told me, but before I could move the fabric aside, Jake caught my wrists midair with a quick yet gentle motion.

He looked at me silently, his blue eyes fixed on mine, trying to calm me without words, but that only made my alarm grow stronger. I held his gaze with clear frustration, challenging him silently, demanding with my eyes that he let me see.

He read the anger on my face, and the stiffness in his grip softened, his thumbs brushing tenderly over my skin.

“Not here…” he murmured, his voice so low and rough it sent shivers down my spine. “Can we go upstairs?”

As much as I wanted to argue, i knew he was right. We were still on the ground floor, nowhere near my apartment. If I wanted to see how serious his injuries were and help him, we needed to go upstairs first.

He noticed the moment I silently gave in to his request, and his hands released my wrists before his fingers intertwined with mine, ready for me to lead him.

As we climbed toward the seventh floor, I studied his exhausted profile, trying to process the fact that the distance between us had finally been reduced to zero.

When we stepped into my apartment, the silence welcomed us like a balm. Jake had finally come back to me, carrying the marks of a dangerous escape that could have cost him his life. Seeing him there, beneath my roof, I understood that the waiting was over. It was my turn to keep him safe, and I would do whatever was necessary to care for him just as he had cared for me.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

If you made it to the end, i appreciate your patience and hope i've somehow comforted your heart after the end of episode 3 🥹❤️

I'm going through a rough patch, so i did my best to finish this little story. It's really hard to concentrate when you're sad or have too many problems to focus on just one thing. So i really appreciate you taking the time to read this.

I'll try to stay motivated.