Page 29 of The Bittersweet Bond

He knew it since that night at the club! Didn't make it sting less.

And still—God—he had hoped.

Screw her. Screw him! Fuckers…

"Stupid. Fucking stupid."

He stood up, and paced. Back and forth.

Like an animal in a cage that had only just realized it would never escape. Like a prisoner locked in solitary, no way out.

The worst part was, it hadn’t looked like some random kiss.

It looked like it meant something. Like something that used to be theirs.

And maybe that’s what threw him off.

Because even when things with Evin were messy, he always thought they understood each other in ways no one else could.

They were both fucked up. Both impossible. But still—they got it.

And now?

That kiss had felt like getting slammed with a brick to the chest. Not because she owed him anything. But because he hadn’t expected it to hurt like this.

But why the hell did it feel like this wasn’t just about Ben?

And why did it feel like she had chosen something—someone—over what both of them had?

What did I even think we were?

They’d always danced on that line. Teasing. Fighting. Kissing. Never official and never easy.

Bas knew, they never defined anything. But somehow, in his mind, this had been different from the usual chaos.

Maybe that’s why it hurt. Because part of him had believed it was already more than just a game.

That this thing between us—whatever the hell it was—meant something.

Apparently, not enoughfor her.

Even when he messed things up. Even when he didn’t say the things she needed to hear.

She’d stayed. She’d seen through all of it.

His eyes landed on the mirror across the room.

And what he saw wasn’t himself. It was the shell of someone who looked like him.

Pale.

Drawn.

He froze mid-step.

Was it about Ben? Or was it about our fight?

Had he gone too far? The words he’d thrown at her.

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