Page 38 of The Bittersweet Bond

"After everything... this? With him?" His lips curled into a faint, mocking smile, as if all of it were nothing more than a ridiculous triviality to him.

Evin opened her mouth to respond, but he raised a hand, silencing her before she could say a word.

His other hand pressed firmly against her chest, pinning her in place. Her skin tingled under the pressure, and though she wanted to fight back, her body seemed frozen in place. Her breathing grew faster, her heartbeat erratic, and the heat pooling in her stomach mixed with something else—something unsettling.

She should push him away. She should scream. But her body betrayed her, drawn to the heat, to the edge of something she didn’t want to name.

His hand slid up to her neck, and though his grip was cold, and his fingers pressed with more force than necessary, she couldn’t ignore the unmistakable intensity that sparked between them.

This—this confrontation—meant there was still something left, a connection neither of them had severed. Silence, a lack of touch, or words unspoken—that would have been far worse than this volatile interaction.

Evin swallowed hard, her throat tightening under the weight of his hand. As long as he held her pinned against the wall, as intense as it was, it meant he hadn’t completely let her go.

"Save it, Bas. You made it clear... I’m not your problem anymore."

"You really think this is a game, don’t you?" His voice was almost amused, but the tension in his jaw betrayed the restraint he was barely managing to hold.

"Bas, stop—" She tried to push against his grip, but his eyes bore into hers, icy and disdainful.

"Stop?" He leaned closer, their noses nearly touching, his voice now a low whisper. "I could do anything I wanted to you right now, and no one could stop me. But here—you can watch me stop."

His cold, cutting gaze locked on hers, sending a shiver down her spine. He was so close she could feel his breath brushing against her skin.

"This is all you're worth now," he muttered quietly, the sharp edge in his tone echoing the tension in his clenched jaw.

Evin’s body tensed, her fingernails digging into her palms. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to stay quiet, to let the moment pass, to walk away with whatever pride she had left. But she couldn’t. Not this time.

Her voice was hoarse, but her words cut just as deep. “Then why are you still here?”

Bas froze. Just for a second. Just long enough for her to see something flicker in his eyes—something he wasn’t ready to admit.

Then, without another word, he released her, his fingers slipping away like she was nothing. But his piercing stare lingered on her face for what felt like an eternity.

"You disgust me, Evin."

Then he turned away without another word. No glance back. As if she had truly vanished from his world.

Just as the door slammed shut behind him, the anger in her chest flared, breaking through the numbness. She didn’t even think—her voice lashed out before she could stop it.

"I was thinking the same about you!"

Thewords hung in the air, swallowed by the empty bathroom. But he was gone. And she was alone.

When the silence settled, she didn’t just feel empty—she felt utterly lost. Without the fight, without the sound of his voice, there was suddenly nothing. No angry glare, no cutting words to wound her—only silence. And the silence was worse than anything else.

In the midst of the pain and disappointment, she realized it wasn’t just Bas she had lost—it was the illusion that she could ever truly have him without losing herself in the process.

Chapter 10

On Pointe, Off Course

Evin

The weeks passed. The sun still warmed the streets of Santa Barbara, but the silence between her and Bas remained.

No glances, no words—as if they were strangers, as if none of it had ever happened. Evin tried not to let it get to her, tried to focus on school, but it was getting harder. Her mind kept drifting, pulling her back into memories, into conversations that never took place. The first exams didn’t go well. Her eyes lingered on the questions, the words blurred together, and even when she knew the answers, she couldn’t bring herself to write them down. School had always been her constant—now it felt like everything was slipping through her fingers.

Evin stood in front of the massive mirror in the ballet studio, her hands on her hips, every muscle in her body tense. They burned. Every step, every leap, every turn was a small battle, as if her body were protesting against the strain. But she ignored the pain. She had to. Ballet wasn’t just dance—it was discipline, a complete mastery of every muscle, every emotion. While others in the class might see the lightness in her jumps, the perfection in her lines, Evin felt the pull in her calves, the tremble in her feet, the faint ache in her joints. Every muscle in her body was pushed to its limit, and yet she had to appear as though it were effortless.

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