Chapter 6

I stood outside with my lips bitten raw, too cowardly to face the scene unfolding inside. The noise and sneers of the crowd drove me mad, but my feet simply wouldn't move. Then, for the first time, I finally fought back. I rushed in and fell to my knees before Mother, tears streaming down my face as I begged, "It's my fault. I seduced him. Please, let's just go home." My grip on her skirt loosened, my hands falling limp. I couldn't bring myself to meet Rowan's eyes, terrified of finding scorn or pity there. I hated myself. I had no idea that his eyes held nothing but heartache.

Once we returned home, Mother stepped away to take a phone call. In the vast living room of the mansion, Julian lounged on the sofa with his legs crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. My disheveled state clearly amused him, and his fingers tapped a rhythmic beat against the armrest.

"Rowan Hayes, right?" he asked, his tone dripping with mockery. "Not a bad-looking guy. No wonder you fell for him."

Cold dread crawled up my spine. Julian rarely acknowledged me as his sister—he forbade me from tainting the Sterling family name. Whenever he did use a familial tone, it meant he was furious.

I knelt before him. "Julian, I'll obey. I won't contact Rowan again."

He patted my head, his voice deceptively tender. "You know exactly what happens if you don't." He let out a heavy sigh. "Clara, what am I going to do with you? Who could ever love trash like you?"

I cut Rowan out of my life entirely, blocking his number and locking the memory of him away. Julian took complete control of my life. I wasn't allowed to go to school alone or speak to anyone else. He kept me locked inside, hired private tutors, and forced me to study so I could attend his university. I became nothing more than his toy.

When I finally got to college, I met Chloe. I once asked her what love was supposed to feel like.

"Love is obeying him, never leaving, and always depending on him," she told me.

Did I love Julian?

I did.

I loved him.

"Clara, you really scared me," Rowan said now, letting out a sigh as he ruffled my hair. "Have you been bullied?"

I stayed silent. His familiar embrace, warm and comforting like sun-dried blankets, slowly calmed my racing thoughts. I nuzzled against him. He blushed, suddenly realizing how closely we were entwined on the bridge.

He patted my back, stammering slightly, "It's okay, Clara. I'm back. No one is going to hurt you now."

Rowan walked me home. The wind coming off the river was chilly, so he draped his coat over my shoulders, the hem brushing against my ankles.

"Clara, you still don't know how to take care of yourself," he murmured.

Three years had transformed the gentle boy I once knew into a tall, striking man. And me? I was still a complete mess.

We walked together in silence. I didn't want to discuss my past, preferring to keep those dark years hidden from him.

"Clara..."

"Rowan..."

We spoke at the exact same time, which made us both laugh. His laugh was pure, completely free of the mockery I had grown so used to.

"You go first," he said, his eyes softening.

My heart raced, taking me back to that summer when he had brushed sand from my cheek with a shy smile. I had lost control of my feelings back then.

"How is your life now?" I asked.

He thought for a moment. "Far from ideal. But meeting someone recently gave me a sense of direction."

Someone... who?

My heart pounded against my ribs. I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, avoiding his gaze. "They must be very important to you."

"Yes, Clara. Very."

He stopped walking. His voice was low, bathed in the warm glow of the streetlamp above us. The rest of the world seemed to hush—there were no cicadas, no distant chatter, just the thundering rhythm of my own heart. His gaze was steady, merging perfectly with the memory of the boy who had once walked toward me. Both versions of him had crossed an ocean of time just for me. I touched my chest, feeling my racing heart, terrified that this entire moment was nothing but a mirage.

"Rowan, I'm home. Thank you."

I fled toward the house, my skirt fluttering behind me like wings. When I briefly glanced back, he was still standing there under the light, watching me go.

As I reached the property, I saw Julian waiting outside. He was soaked in the evening dew, staring intensely at me; he had clearly been waiting for a long time. I tried to ignore him, but he reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me forcefully against him.

"Clara, fresh out of the hospital, and you're already out chasing guys?" he spat. "Do you have no shame?"

His touch made my skin crawl. I shoved hard against his chest. "Don't touch me!"

He sneered, his grip tightening like a vise. "He can touch you, but I can't?"

In my panic, his face began to blur, morphing into the leering demons that had haunted me at Crestwood. I trembled uncontrollably, my voice breaking as I begged, "Please, don't."

Seeing my genuine fear only seemed to fuel his jealousy. He remembered the smile I had shared with Rowan, and it made him burn with envy.

"You are mine, Clara. No one else can have you." He grabbed my chin, forcing my face up to meet his.

"I'm not—"

Before I could finish, his lips crashed violently onto mine. My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes went wide with absolute horror.