Page 25 of Alessia
“I don’t care how many times you’ve ignored me. I’m not leaving until we talk.”
My heart skips a beat, my pulse spiking. Alessia doesn’t wait for permission. She’s already close. Her presence fills the space between us with a weight I can’t escape. Her gaze is unwavering, and in that moment, I feel every bit of the power she carries.
She doesn’t even give me a chance to respond.
“You can try to run from this, Harper,” she continues, her voice gaining strength, “but I’m not letting you go. Not without a fight.”
I open my mouth to say something, anything, but the words are stuck, tangled somewhere deep inside me. I should tell her to leave, to stop making this harder.
But as her eyes hold mine, I can’t find the strength to walk away. She takes another step, forcing me to stand my ground.
“I’m not walking away from you. Not like this.”
7 - Alessia
Iclose the distancebetween us until there’s barely any space between us.
“You’ve ignored my calls. You’ve ignored my texts. You’ve shut me out without giving me the chance to explain.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you needed a live audience for your ‘explanation’ tour. I guess I just needed some space and time, but hey, who needs that, right? After that bombshell you dropped on me!” She hisses.
My voice is steady, controlled, everything I need it to be. But beneath the surface, there’s a pulse of frustration, of fear. I can’t let her slip away.
I can see the tension in her jaw, the way her hands tighten at her sides. But she’s not moving. Not running. Not backing away. I can see the conflict in her eyes, the pull between wanting to walk away and wanting to hear me out. I don’t give her time to decide I watch as her gaze locks onto mine, unreadable yet… distant.
“Harper,” I say softly, my hand reaching for hers, feeling the warmth of her skin as I take it. “Please. Don’t walk away.”
Her gaze flicks to my hand, her lips pressing into a thin line as if the touch is too much, too soon. She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t exactly lean in, either. It’s like a quiet battle in the air between us, one I can’t win with words alone.
“You don’t get it,” she mutters, voice tight with something I can’t quite place.
“You think you can just fix this with a touch? With a ‘please’?” She shakes her head, but her hand doesn’t leave mine. She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t return the squeeze, either. Her eyes flick to mine, cold as ice. “Do you even hear yourself?”
“I’m listening,” I say, keeping my tone steady, even though I’m not sure how much longer I can hold it together. “I hear everything, Harper.”
She scoffs, the sound bitter. “Do you? Because the last time we talked, you seemed pretty damn clueless. You thought you had all the answers. You thought you could fix everything with a ‘sorry,’ and—”
“And I was wrong,” I cut in before she can finish. “I know I was wrong. I’m not asking you to forgive me right now. I’m asking for a chance to make it right.”
Her jaw tightens, her eyes narrowing.
“A chance? A fucking chance?” Her words crack through the silence like a whip, each one laced with venom. “You want me to give you a chance?”
I swallow hard, forcing myself not to flinch.
