Page 215 of The Bittersweet Bond

Stepping out of the shower, warm steam clung to her skin. She hesitated for a moment before stepping onto the scale. The numbers whispered a quiet reassurance: 115 pounds. Everything under control. Not a measure of who she was—just a small confirmation to start the day. Yet somewhere inside, a voice nagged at her, wondering if it should be more… if she was enough.

Evin stretched in front of the mirror, each movement precise but tinged with a subtle tension. Her body needed to be awake, ready to draw upon everything she’d trained over the past weeks. She barely noticed that Bas hadn’t been in touch—today was supposed to be all about her. The day she’d bled, sweated, and suffered for. But a part of her couldn’t help wondering if everything would truly come together as it should. Would she really own the space that was hers?

Her phone rang.

Milka.

Evin picked it up immediately, tightening the towel around her. “Morning, superstar,” Milka greeted her with a playful tone. “Ready to make history?”

Evin’s lips curved into a faint smile—it felt almost forced. She drew a deep breath before answering. “I’m ready to dance… I think.”

“Good. I’m expecting goosebumps.”

Evin chuckled, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “No pressure at all, huh?”

“None whatsoever. But hey, Evin?”

“Hm?”

“You can be proud of yourself. I know I am.”

Something tightened in Evin’s chest—a mixture of pride and uncertainty—but she pushed the feeling away, forcing her voice to remain steady. “Don’t get sentimental on me now.”

Milka laughed softly. “Me? Never.”

They hung up, leaving only the quiet hum of the morning—and the sound of her own heartbeat, caught somewhere between anticipation and doubt.

Evin took one last glance in the mirror. It was time. Even if she wasn’t completely certain yet.

__________

Sebastian

Sebastian’s eyes were fixed on the flickering departures board at the airport, tracking every update with a mix of anticipation and unease. One more hour until boarding, and the digital numbers seemed to race forward, while everything in his mind felt slow and heavy.

He knew he should have sent her a message by now. Something simple, like: On my way. Or something like that.

But the knot tightening in his stomach wasn’t about the message. It was about everything he’d been keeping from her. He hadn’t said a word about his father’s plans for the summer, because he didn’t know how to tell her. And because deep down, he knew she needed to focus. This was her moment, not his mess.

And then there was the other thing—the fight. That moment when he’d let it all out, all the pent-up frustration. A part of him knew he shouldn’t have stepped in, that it had been reckless. But that was so like him, diving headfirst into things without thinking and ending up with bloody knuckles to show for it.

He leaned back in the uncomfortable chair, rubbing his face with both hands, feeling the sting of the rough cut on his brow. His fingers grazed the aching bruise under his eye, a reminder of his impulsive choices. She would notice for sure and ask, with that look of hers that demanded answers.

And what would he say?

He’d brush it off. Not because he wanted to hide the truth, but because today was her day. That was the only thing that really mattered.

He tapped out a quick message on his phone, his fingers moving with a calmness that didn’t match the turmoil inside him:

__________

Evin

Bas

On my way. Can’t wait to see you. ??

Her heart gave the tiniest, barely noticeable leap.

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