Page 103 of Mystic's Sunrise

She noticed.

Her voice softened again, breaking. “He never meant to hurt you. He’s just… broken too. Maybe worse than you think.”

I hated that I understood. Hated that the ache inside me wasn’t just heartbreak, butrecognition. Mystic was scarred. Not just on his skin, but deep. Like me.

But he still had a wife. A secret. A chain he didn’t cut before pulling me into his arms.

“Please say something,” Lucy begged. “Even if it’s just a nod. Or scream at me. Throw something. Anything. Just… come back.”

I looked down at my hands. They were folded neatly in my lap, like I was made of glass. But inside… I was dust.

I forced one word, jagged and dry from my throat. Barely a whisper. “Why?”

Lucy’s breath hitched. “Why what?”

“Why did he… not tell me?” I closed my eyes. “Why did he let me believe…?”

She didn’t answer. Maybe there was no answer.

Maybe some men don’t mean to ruin you—but they do anyway.

Lucy didn’t speak. She just reached for my hand encouraging me to continue talking.

“I haven’t felt this empty,” I whispered, “since the day you came… and told me they were gone.”

Her head dropped slightly, like the weight of that memory hit her too.

“I kept hoping you were wrong. That you’d made a mistake. That maybe they were just—just lost, or moved, or… something.” My throat tightened. “But you stood in the doorway, and I saw it in your eyes. My parents were dead. And so was that part of me.”

She squeezed my hand, hard. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“I am not doing anything,” I said quietly. “It is already done.”

“I know,” she said, her voice thick. “I know what you’re thinking, but Mystic—he’s not like Drago. He didn’t lie to keep you trapped. He didn’t lie to control you.”

“No,” I murmured, eyes on the ceiling. “He lied to keep me close.”

Lucy blinked. “What do you mean?”

“If he had told me,” I said, the ache pouring into every word, “I would’ve walked away. I would’ve protected my heart.”

“But he didn’t think—”

“No, heknew,” I snapped, my voice rising for the first time. “He knew what I had survived. What men had done to me. He knew I had nothing left. And still… still he let me fall.”

Silence thickened the room.

My voice dropped again, softer, more hollow. “Do you know what it feels like, Lucy? To finally trust a man again after years of surviving, only to realize that he was like all the rest—a liar?”

Tears slipped down Lucy’s face, quiet and steady. She didn’t wipe them.

“You are the one constant I can count on,” I said. “When you told me about my parents… when I collapsed into your arms, and you held me, even though I screamed and cursed and blamed myself. You didn’t leave.” I took a deep breath and continued, “and when Fang did those horrible things to you because of me, you were still my friend and helped me.”

“And I’ll always be here,” she whispered.

I finally turned my eyes to her, something fragile burning in my chest. “Then help me, Lucy. Because I do not know how to come back from this.”

She wrapped her arms around me without hesitation, pulling me close. “You don’t have to come back all at once,” she said, voice shaking against my hair. “Just… don’t give up. Not on yourself. And not on him—not yet.”

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