Leon paced the length of his apartment, the worn-out carpet beneath his boots barely muffling his footsteps. His entire body felt taut, like a bowstring pulled to its limit. His mind was racing, thoughts darting between rage, fear, and the gnawing ache of guilt that settled in his chest like a heavy stone. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to do something, anything, but his hands were tied. Alina had cut off all contact, and he was spiraling.
The apartment felt colder than usual, the overcast sky outside casting a dim, grayish hue through the half-open blinds. Leon hadn't turned on the lights in days. The walls seemed to close in on him, the clutter of the room—dishes piled in the sink, empty bottles scattered across the kitchen counter—reminding him of how quickly his life had unraveled.
His phone, perched precariously on the arm of the couch, remained silent. No missed calls. No texts. Nothing. Alina hadn't answered since that brief conversation days ago when she promised she would talk to him. She hadn't kept that promise.
Leon clenched his fists, pacing faster. He had been patient. He had given her space, like Sam had advised. But how much longer could he wait? The more time that passed, the more it felt like Alina was slipping further and further out of his reach. He couldn't bear the thought of her staying with Sarah, of Sarah poisoning her mind with lies and pushing her further away from him. She had already done enough damage.
"You're going to push her away." Sam's words echoed in his mind, but Leon shook them off. Sam didn't understand. No one did.
Leon crossed the room, yanking open the blinds with a sharp pull. The weak morning light spilled into the apartment, illuminating the disarray. He stared out over the city, the dull roar of traffic below barely registering in his ears. A light drizzle had begun to fall, droplets of rain streaking down the glass. Everything outside looked bleak, washed out.
His mind kept going back to Alina. He knew she was at Sarah's, hiding from him, but for how long? What was she thinking right now? Did she regret what happened between them? Did she even care?
Leon's breath hitched as he thought about their last confrontation, the way her face had looked when he'd lost control. He could still see the fear in her eyes, the way she had cowered, flinching with each blow. He hadn't meant to hit her—not like that. Not with that kind of force. But the rage had consumed him, blinding him to everything but the betrayal she had carved into his soul.
He slammed his fist against the window frame, frustration boiling over. He needed to see her. He couldn't wait anymore. She needed to understand that he hadn't meant it, that he wasn't the monster Sarah probably painted him to be. He needed her to know that he still loved her, that he wanted to make things right.
Grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter, Leon stormed toward the door. The rain had picked up now, drumming softly against the pavement as he stepped outside. The cold air bit at his skin, but he didn't care. His thoughts were only on one thing: Alina.
The streets were slick, shining with rain as Leon made his way toward Sarah's apartment building. He kept his head down, his hood pulled up to shield himself from the rain, but even the weather couldn't cool the fire burning in his chest. Each step felt heavier than the last, his breath coming in sharp bursts as anxiety gnawed at his stomach.
By the time he reached Sarah's building, his clothes were damp, and the rain had soaked through his shoes. He stared up at the tall, looming structure, his heart pounding in his chest. The windows on the upper floors were dark, barely visible through the haze of rain.
Leon's mind raced as he stood there, unsure of what to do next. He knew Sarah wouldn't let him in. She hated him, had hated him for months now. She saw him as toxic, controlling, maybe even dangerous. And maybe he was, but that didn't change how much he loved Alina.
He couldn't stand here forever. He needed to act.
Leon crossed the street, his eyes scanning the entrance to Sarah's building. A small convenience store sat on the corner, its neon sign flickering in the rain. For a moment, he considered waiting, watching from the store until he saw Alina. But no, that was too desperate, too risky. She might call the police, or worse, she might never leave the building at all.
Instead, Leon took a deep breath, his hand tightening around the handle of his phone. He would text her—one last time. Maybe if he could get her to meet him somewhere neutral, somewhere that wasn't Sarah's, they could talk. He could make her understand.
Alina, please. Just talk to me. Meet me at the café near the park. I'll wait. Please, I need to see you.
He hit send, his heart pounding in his ears. Now, all he could do was wait.
Hours passed, and Leon found himself sitting in the back corner of the small café near the park. The rain had let up slightly, but the air was still heavy with moisture, the gray clouds overhead threatening to break open again at any moment. Leon's fingers drummed anxiously on the table as he glanced at the door for the hundredth time. His coffee sat untouched, growing cold in the cup.
Alina still hadn't responded to his text.
His chest tightened with each minute that passed, frustration mixing with fear. What if she didn't show? What if she never wanted to see him again? The thought was unbearable.
The café was quiet, a few other customers scattered around, chatting softly or scrolling through their phones. The clatter of dishes from the kitchen punctuated the otherwise still atmosphere, but Leon barely noticed. His attention was focused solely on the entrance.
Another ten minutes passed. Then twenty.
Leon's leg bounced under the table, his patience wearing thin. He checked his phone again. Still nothing. His mind spun with possibilities—maybe Alina had decided not to come. Maybe Sarah had convinced her to stay away. Maybe she was afraid.
No, she couldn't be afraid of him. She just needed time, that's all. She just needed to realize that he wasn't going to hurt her again. He was better than that. He loved her.
The door to the café jingled softly as it opened, and Leon's heart leapt into his throat. But it wasn't Alina. Just a couple, laughing softly as they shook the rain from their jackets.
Leon's hands tightened into fists on the table. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Every second that ticked by felt like another nail in the coffin of their relationship. He couldn't lose her. Not after everything.
He stood abruptly, pushing his chair back with more force than he intended. The sudden movement earned him a few curious glances from the other patrons, but he didn't care. He needed air. He needed to move.
The café door swung shut behind him as he stepped out into the chilly afternoon. The drizzle had returned, soaking his hair and clothes, but he barely felt it. His eyes scanned the street, searching for any sign of Alina.
Nothing.
Leon's pulse pounded in his ears as he began to walk, his thoughts a tangled mess of anger, desperation, and fear. He needed to find her. He couldn't just sit around and wait for her to come to him. What if she never did?
He found himself back at Sarah's building again, his shoes sloshing in the puddles that had formed along the sidewalk. His body was on autopilot now, his legs carrying him to the one place he knew Alina had to be.
He wasn't leaving without seeing her.
Leon stared up at the windows of Sarah's apartment, his hands shaking as he considered his options. He couldn't just knock on the door. Sarah would never let him in. But maybe, just maybe, if he waited long enough, Alina would come outside. Maybe she'd see him, and she'd understand that he wasn't there to hurt her. He just needed to talk.
He stood under the awning of a nearby store, the rain pattering softly around him as he watched the entrance to the building. The minutes dragged on, each one heavier than the last, but he didn't move. His clothes were soaked through, his hair plastered to his forehead, but none of it mattered. He would wait all night if he had to.
Just as he was about to give up hope, the door to the building opened. Leon's heart leapt into his throat as he saw a familiar figure step outside—Alina.
For a moment, he couldn't breathe. She looked different. Tired. Worn down. Her eyes were shadowed, her body tense, as if she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. But she was still beautiful. Still the woman he loved.
Leon took a step forward, his mouth dry. He wanted to call out to her, but the words caught in his throat. He wasn't sure what to say. What could he say?
Then, she looked up. Her eyes met his, and for a split second, time seemed to stop.
Alina froze, her face paling as she realized who was standing across the street. Her body tensed, and Leon could see the panic in her eyes—the fear he had hoped to never see again.
No. Please don't run.
"Alina," he called softly, his voice breaking. "Please. Just talk to me."
But she didn't move. Her eyes darted toward the door of the building, and for a moment, Leon thought she was going to run back inside. He stepped forward, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.
"I'm not here to hurt you," he said, his voice trembling. "I just want to talk."
Alina shook her head, her eyes wide. "I can't do this, Leon. I can't."
"Please," Leon begged, his voice desperate. "Just give me a chance. I need you. I need to fix this."
Alina's breath came in shallow gasps, her body shaking with fear and indecision. For a moment, Leon thought she might listen. But then, without a word, she turned and bolted back into the building, slamming the door behind her.
Leon stood frozen in place, the rain pouring down around him, soaking him to the bone. His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of her rejection crushing him. She had run from him. She was scared of him.
And in that moment, something inside him broke.
He wasn't going to lose her. He couldn't. He would find a way to bring her back, no matter what it took.