The kiss lingered in the air like the scent of rain before a storm.
Alina could still feel the warmth of his lips — the soft yet commanding pull of his mouth against hers. Her hands had instinctively reached up to clutch his shirt, afraid this moment would vanish like a dream. For a second, time didn't exist. There was no Paris, no rented apartments, no pain — just the taste of something real.
But just as she leaned closer, wanting to drown deeper in him, Evander suddenly pulled away.
His breath was ragged, his eyes unreadable — somewhere between desire and fear.
She blinked. "Evander…"
He didn't speak. His jaw clenched as if he was biting back words — or something heavier. Then, with a soft but deliberate push, he separated them. His hand briefly touched her shoulder, then fell away like a stranger's.
And just like that… he turned and walked out of her apartment.
No explanation. No glance back. Only silence.
---
The next morning arrived with an eerie stillness.
Alina stirred in bed, the golden sunlight streaming through the curtains failing to warm her heart.
For a few blissful seconds, she forgot. She smiled, stretching like a lazy cat, her lips curling upward from the memory of last night. The kiss. The touch. The spark.
Then reality punched her gut.
He had walked away. Without a word.
She sat up abruptly, heart racing. Maybe he had to leave urgently. Maybe he was overwhelmed.
Or maybe… it meant nothing to him.
She shook the thought off and walked to her small kitchen. She made tea — the same jasmine blend he once said "smelled like rain on books." She found herself glancing at the door again and again, expecting a knock.
None came.
Her phone stayed silent.
So did her heart.
---
By afternoon, Alina couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed her coat and stepped out, heading toward the library. At least work might numb the ache gnawing at her chest.
But even the comforting smell of old pages and quiet corners couldn't help. She kept looking at the door, half-hoping he would walk in, like he sometimes did.
But instead, Ren appeared — casual and flirtatious, as always.
"You look like someone stole your favorite book," he teased, setting down a paper coffee cup.
"I lost more than that," she muttered, barely meeting his gaze.
He sat beside her. "Oh I get it now it's all because of him right ?"
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Oh come on. The mysterious rich guy next door? Everyone has theories." He leaned closer. "But you… you've got history, don't you?"
Alina said nothing, just quietly closed the file in front of her.
Before Ren could push further, her eyes flicked up — and locked with Evander's.
He was standing at the library entrance.
For a moment, her heart surged with relief. But then she noticed the blank expression. No smile. No recognition.
Just cold distance.
And without a word… he turned and walked away.
---
The sky cracked open that evening.
Alina stepped out of the metro station, rain crashing down like needles on stone. She hadn't brought her umbrella. She didn't care.
By the time she reached the apartment steps, her clothes clung to her skin like second thoughts.
And there he was.
Evander, standing outside his room, his shirt slightly damp, hair dripping, expression unreadable.
She stopped, every emotion bubbling to the surface.
"I waited," she said quietly. "You kissed me. Then you left."
He looked at her, something flickering in his gaze.
"I shouldn't have," he said, voice low.
"Then why did you?" she snapped.
Silence.
He hold her hand and took her inside the room. And said Hushhh..
He stepped forward. Close enough to hear her shaky breath. Close enough to see the rain trailing down her cheek — whether it was from the storm or her eyes, she couldn't tell.
"I'm not good at this, Alina," he murmured. "Whatever this is... it shouldn't happen."
And yet, his hand reached up to tuck a wet strand of hair behind her ear.
"You don't get to play push and pull," she whispered. "You don't get to kiss me like that and pretend it meant nothing."
His fingers brushed her jaw, eyes dark.
She tilted her face up, heart racing.
And this time, she leaned in first — determined, searching.
Their lips were just about to meet again when—
Bang!
The apartment door swung open.
Alina jerked back instinctively, startled.
Standing at the doorway, drenched yet composed, was a woman dressed in a beige trench coat, her hair neatly pinned despite the storm.
Her eyes were sharp. Calculating.
And cold.
"Alina."
The name was spoken like poison.
Alina's world tilted.
Her breath hitched. Her body froze.
It couldn't be. No — not here. Not now.
"…Mother?" she whispered, voice breaking.
It was her stepmother.
---
Her legs trembled. Her arms wrapped around herself like armor.
"I—I didn't know you were—" Alina stuttered.
The woman walked inside as if she owned the place. Her eyes scanned the apartment, nose wrinkling in distaste.
"This is where you live now? Like some orphan on rent?" she scoffed.
Alina's breath caught in her throat.
Evander stepped forward slightly, stunned. "You ???"
The woman's eyes flicked to him. A flash of recognition — too quick to ignore.
"Well," she smirked, "I didn't expect you here."
Alina looked between them. Her heart pounded.
"You… know each other?" she asked slowly.
Neither of them replied immediately.
Her stepmother turned to her again, expression hardening. "Your father wants you to come back. We've arranged a match. You're not getting any younger, and frankly, you're becoming more of a liability by the day."
Alina's throat burned.
She wanted to scream, I'm not a burden. I'm not your mistake. I'm not weak.
But years of being silenced had carved cracks too deep.
"I'm not going anywhere," she finally whispered.
"You think hiding in a foreign country makes you free? You're still that useless girl who couldn't even carry our name," her stepmother hissed.
Evander's hand curled into a fist at his side.
Alina's lip quivered. Her fingers clenched the hem of her sweater. The air around her thickened with old memories — the pain of being unloved, unwanted, unworthy.
Her mother had left her for money. Her father treated her like a ghost. And this woman — this woman made her childhood a prison.
And now she was in her home.
Her safe place.
"Leave," Alina said, her voice barely holding together.
But the woman didn't move.
Instead, she looked at Evander again and said, "well I didn't expect you to be there Evander."
Silence.
Dead silence.
Alina blinked. "W-What does that mean?"
Evander's jaw tensed. He didn't answer.
The room felt like it was closing in.
Her voice cracked.
"Evander… do you know her?"
He looked at her then. Not with coldness. But with guilt.
Heavy, devastating guilt.
Alina stepped back, her body shaking.
"What are you hiding from me?" she whispered.