Page 133 of When the Storm Breaks
Even after a full night of sleep, his eyes are still rimmed red, dark circles deepening the exhaustion carved into his face. His clothes hang loose, like he’s been wearing them for days—stretched in ways that say he’s spent more time on the floor than in a bed.
His stance is completely unsteady. His fingers twitch at his sides, restless and tight.
He looks like he’s barely holding himself together. And still, something stops me from reaching for him.
The distance he’s put between us.
The way he won’t let me help.
Something is still off.
“Let’s just go grab breakfast.”
It’s the way he says it that makes me nauseous. Flat. Forced. Like he’s offering neutral ground. Or an exit.
Like it’s all he has left to offer.
Like this morning—the way he touched me—was a goodbye.
I turn away before he can see the sting of that thought in myexpression. Swallowing it down, I disappear into my room, pulling on the first sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants I see.
When I step back into the living room, Haiyden’s already at the door, coat in hand. He doesn’t notice me at first—too focused on shoving one arm into his jacket. I watch as he reaches for the other sleeve—
Then stumbles, catching himself against the wall.
It’s quick. Not dramatic. He tries to brush past it, play it off. But I see it.
I move to his side instinctively, my hand wrapping around his arm to steady him. Just offering another leg to stand on.
It’s nothing—a small gesture. Barely anything at all. But instead of leaning into it, he shrugs me off. Adjusts his jacket like I was never there. Like I hadn’t reached for him at all.
It’s a small rejection. But it burns.
And I feel stupid. For caring. For noticing.
He says nothing. Just pulls the door open and steps into the hallway. I swallow hard and follow, locking up behind me before I realize he’s already halfway down the hall.
By the time we reach the car, my breath is coming hard and fast—and not because of the pace.
He has a head start.
He always does.
And those stupid, long legs don’t help either.
Chapter 44
Calla
The first few minutes of the drive are silent—but the quiet isn’t peaceful. It presses in, thick like fog.
Haiyden’s shutting me out again, and I’m so fucking tired of it.
I can’t do this anymore.
The radio buzzes low, but it only adds to the tension between us—a dull, pointless sound swallowed by everything we aren’t saying.
The air is static, like seconds before a storm.
