Page 166 of The Bittersweet Bond

His breath was heavy, his muscles stretched so tight they felt ready to snap.

But underneath all the fury, in its darkest core, there was something else—guilt.

I should have noticed.

Why didn’t I see it?

The thoughts slammed into his mind, sharp and relentless.

Evin, trying to keep her smile while her eyes said something else. The quiet moments when she suddenly fell silent.

The way she sometimes tensed when he touched her—so subtle that he had ignored it.

She went through this alone. Because of him.And because of me.

His nails dug into his palms, but the pain barely registered.

Every memory, every unspoken sentence, every moment he hadn’t been there for her piled up inside him.

Guilt and rage fused into a deadly mix, propelling him forward.

I let her down. I left her alone, and he destroyed her.

A dull pressure built in his chest, hot and suffocating.

His jaw ached from clenching his teeth, his thoughts spiraling uncontrollably.

How could she think I wouldn’t understand?

That I would see her differently?

The room spun around him.

The stage, the dance floor stretching beneath it like a magnet pulling the whole tent together, looked surreal, like the people on it were dancing without solid ground beneath them.

Their carefree laughter felt like poison in his ears.

Then he saw Sergej.

At the main entrance of the tent, in plain sight, standing casually with a glass of wine in his hand.

That smug grin, the effortless confidence, as if he owned the damn world—it felt like a punch to Bas’ stomach.

His stare locked onto him, unwavering and merciless.

You dare stand here? You dare laugh?

For a moment, Bas didn’t move.

But then, the rage inside him burned hotter, sharper.

His breathing quickened, his pulse thundered in his ears like an approaching storm.

The fury inside him surged, a burning flame threatening to consume him entirely.

But deep within that fire was another thought—Evin’s face.

Her distant behavior, the way she had tried to stay strong.

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