"That's because..."
Nick didn't hold back anymore. He nodded, then caught sight of the tears brimming in Khloe's eyes, and his composure completely crumbled.
"That's because I don't want you to fear me... And I don't want you to hate me!"
At last, he spoke his truth.
All the talk of selfishness, all the talk of reason... it had just been an excuse. What he cared about most was how Khloe saw him.
If there ever came a day she despised him, he would rather leave her with the best possible impression—the memory of every happiness they had shared, intact and untarnished.
"How could I ever hate you? Just because you've been hurt before? Or because of what happened with Michelle?
"Michelle and I are very different people. I am afraid... but seeing the person I love lose control, even possibly hurt themselves—how could I not be afraid?
"But if I were really someone who would fear you, who would defend against you, I wouldn't have let go when the knife was directed at me!"
Her words shattered every defense he had.
Nick shot up, locking into her unflinching gaze.
The image he had always feared confronting appeared before his eyes again—her steady eyes, unwavering even as she let go of the blade. In this moment, it was crystal clear.
He was such a fool.
It wasn't her who feared him. It was him—he was terrified of himself. He was so afraid he might lose control that he had wanted her to fear him instead.
"Khloe."
He finally couldn't hold it in. The ache and longing in his chest pressed so heavily that he could barely breathe. He grasped her hands tightly.
"Just the thought of hurting you... it feels like hell. I can't calm myself. Tell me... what am I supposed to do?"
Khloe found him both exasperating and heartbreakingly endearing. She was no longer angry.


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