Secrets of Us A Forbidden Love Romance (Alina) novel Chapter 155

Intense–1

The next day, I’m tidying up my room after a shower and before dinner. I grab a sweater I have on my bedside table and in the process, my phone falls on the floor.

It flashes on and the numbers from the corner of the screen stare back at me.

My heart goes into overdrive.

They’re small, unassuming, but they define my entire life at this point.

February 14th.

I’ve been avoiding my phone all day for this exact reason. I didn’t want to be reminded. And now I’m here, in the suffocating quiet, trying not to drown in it.

Burning rubber and gasoline.

The crunch of metal folding in on itself.

Flashing lights. Red, white, blue, like a strobe in the middle of the nightmare.

The images and memories bombard me, and I struggle to breathe.

I wrap myself tighter in the blanket I stole off the bed, dragging it with me like a shield as

I step onto the balcony of my room. The cold air bites at my face, but I welcome it. It’s sharp, cold… completely opposite to that day as I watched the first responders check my family for signs of life.

I was hot that day, burning from the inside out.

The panic was too much.

I sit on the chair, knees pulled up to my chest, staring out into nothing. It’s so dark and without lights coming from a large city, I can see the stars and the moon perfectly. It’s

beautiful.

The tears come quietly at first, slipping down my cheeks without much fuss. But it’s the guilt that gets me. The tight, gnawing weight in my chest that never really leaves, just burrows deeper on days like this.

1/3

intense 1

I press my face into the blanket, trying to silence the sound that escapes me. It’s pathetic.

I’m pathetic.

I don’t hear the door open at first. It’s the soft creak of the floorboards that makes me lift my head, wiping at my face quickly, hoping I don’t look as wrecked as I feel.

“Alina?” Zaid’s voice is low, careful.

Relief floods me as soon as I see him. My body exhales without permission. Anyone else I might have faked a smile for. Lied. But Zaid? I don’t have the energy. And something

about him makes me think I don’t need to.

His eyes soften when he steps out onto the balcony, barefoot despite the cold.

I don’t say anything; I don’t trust my voice yet.

We sit like that for an hour and then I hear him breathe, as if wanting to say something. I feel his body tense under me. Not in a way that makes me pull away, but enough that I notice. Enough that I lift my head, peering up at him.

I frown. “What do you mean?”