Page 154 of When the Storm Breaks
Then I step outside, gasping for air—only now, realizing I’d been holding my breath.
Chapter 50
Haiyden
1:12 a.m.
Me: I swear, Calla, it’s not what you think.
Chapter 51
Haiyden
5:46 a.m.
Me: Please let me explain.
Chapter 52
Haiyden
It’s the same routine. Every day.
Weeks have passed since I last saw her, and what used to be mornings filled with warm coffee, lavender shampoo, and breathless, shaking moans has turned into something vacant.
Something that aches.
The February air is brutal—freezing and dry, numbing my skin on the thirty-minute walk to Calla’s apartment.
But I don’t care. I welcome it.
It’s a penance. A punishment I refuse to stop.
When I reach her building, I unlatch the main door easily.
It used to unsettle me—how vulnerable that made her. I used to think it meant she needed me. Like I could protect her.
Now, I’m just grateful it lets me in.
I take the stairs two at a time, the old steps creaking beneath my weight.
At her door, I pause.
I set everything down carefully—like it means something.
Because it does.
First, the coffee: black drip, splash of cold water. Just enough to make it drinkable right away.
Then, the pastry: the kind she used to bring to the bar, back when she was still working her way in without even trying.
It never changes.
It can’t.
Last, the butterfly.
Bright orange. A little crooked at the wings now.
