Bonds

THIS IS NOT A PART OF THE STORY AND DEFINITELY NOT PART OF THE WORD COUNT I have been having a mental battle with myself on whether I should put this at the beginning or at the end of this chapter.

I guess if you are reading this, you know which side emerged as the winner.

I have been meaning to put this out there for a while but even with the fact that I could still hide behind my screen where no one can see me type this, I still didn't allow myself. I took a breather so here I am. Anyway, this is the Author. Obviously. I just rolled my eyes at myself.

To anyone that will read the book up until this point to see this note, I want to say a really big thank you. I know it takes a lot to stick to a book because I for one understand. I mean before I decided to be brave enough to pen down the ideas in my head, I read hundreds of books. I didn't stick with some to the end so again it really means a lot and again, thank you.

As a reader I know how annoying it is when two people are destined to be together and yet they aren't. All the books that I have read revolving around this, annoyed me. I have seen some comments and I totally understand.

Amaya and Alex are meant to be together. It's inevitable but I want to put it out there that everything that has happened in the book has happened for a reason. I love it when the books I read makes a lot of sense which is what I have been trying to do so yes, I do understand that's it's really frustrating, the endless cycle in their relationship but I promise, it will make sense at the end so if you have decided to stick with me this far, once again, I say thank you and I promise that I will continue the make it worth your while.

I just have to do this. A little spoiler. The coming chapters are going to be crazy good. I already have the ideas swirling in my head and I am really excited to pen them down. EVERYTHING WILL MAKE SENSE. All the brewing storm, the drama, it's about to come crashing down and I hope I am able to the way I have nailed it in my head.

I love a good mystery and this is something you all will not see coming or will you? If you have decided stick with me but you are having second thoughts because of the dynamics of Amaya and Alex's relationship, I want you to know that I understand. When two people are meant to be, they are meant to be so Maylex or Alexmaya(lol I can't come up with a ship name for them) will happen, you just have to stick around a little longer to see it come to pass.

So this is where my note comes to an end. I really hope you get to read it and like I ended this particular chapter, I hope you are eager to know the answer to this question:

What would happen next?

-Maya's POV-

Green.

That was the first thing that popped into my head when I thought of Amaya. Not emerald green, not lime green, just... green. Her eyes. I hadn't even realized I had a favorite color until the day we were hanging out, just messing around, and she challenged me to guess hers. I blurted out green, a complete shot in the dark, and her face lit up with this surprised joy that made my heart skip a beat.

Green it was.

Looking back, it was kind of ridiculous. How could my favorite color be something so... basic? But then I realized it wasn't just any green. It was the green of her eyes, the color that seemed to hold a million unspoken emotions, the color that could pierce through me like a spotlight.

A sharp snap brought me back to reality. "Are you trying to calculate how long the poison will take to kick in?" Her voice was laced with irritation, snapping me out of my reverie.

Santhar I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. Truth be told, I had been smiling a lot lately. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Miranda had been strangely absent for the past few weeks. Honestly, I didn't care. My mission, my sole focus, had become spending time with Amaya.

"Guess it's almost time for me to drop dead since you haven't graced me with a reply," Her dry tone cut in again.

Our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, I saw it again - the green, the fire, the flicker of something... familiar. Then just as quickly, her expression hardened, her jaw clenching.

"Can you not just suddenly talk, Alex? Seriously, if you're not going to say anything, stop staring. I'm trying to get work done here, and your creepy staring is distracting."

"Just trying to spend some time with you," I replied, my smile not faltering. It seemed to annoy her even more, her scowl deepening. She buried her head back in her paperwork, but the tension in the air was thicker than ever.

The silence stretched, punctuated only by the scratch of her pen and the occasional sigh escaping my lips. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "What Chapter 120

are you even working on?" I asked, leaning back in my chair.

"Something that doesn't concern you," she mumbled without looking up.

"Where's Ivan" I tried a different approach. Maybe a topic she cared about would case the tension.

Her bead snapped up. "Shouldn't you know? You two are the business partners, right? Leave me alone, Alex. You're distracting me?

I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a low murmur. "You always loved it when I distracted you, especially when you were swamped with paperwork A flicker of something crossed her face defiance.

a flash of memory, a hint of a ghost of a smile? Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a wall of She slammed her papers shut with a finality that brooked no argument. "Where are you going?" I asked, rising to my feet.

"Home. Away from you, since you clearly think I'm some kind of toy you can play with whenever you're bored."From NôvelDrama.Org.

I sighed. Maybe I had pushed it too far. The truth was, I didn't want her to leave. I craved her presence, even if it meant enduring her barbed comments and icy glares.

"Amaya," I said, my voice a plea. She reached the door, her hand hovering over the knob.

"Don't leave," I continued, urgency creeping into my voice. "I was just messing around."

"Messing around?" she spun on her heel, her eyes blazing. "Messing around? You think this is funny? That I'm some kind of plaything you can pick up and discard at your leisure? I'm not, Alex."

I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut me off, her voice rising with each word.

"What is this, huh? You've been showing up here for three weeks straight, acting like the past four years never happened. Like you didn't reject me, like you didn't make me feel worthless, like you didn't throw me out because you thought I was cheating with your best friend. In one fell swoop, you destroyed two lives because you couldn't communicate like a grown-up. And now what? You waltzed back in here after all this time, disrupting everything, and act surprised when I'm not exactly rolling out the red carpet? You haven't even uttered a single apology for what you did, for the pain you caused. And then you have the nerve to joke about the past?"

Her words hit me like a physical blow. The truth stung, a bitter pill I had to swallow. I knew I was wrong. Every part of me knew it. But the apology stuck in my throat, a tangled mess of guilt and pride.

The bags she'd been packing clattered to the floor as she shoved me, her anger a tangible force. It wasn't a strong shove, barely a nudge, but it sent a jolt through me. There was a fire in her eyes, a hurt that mirrored the one burning in my chest.

"Why can't you just leave me alone, Alex?" Her voice cracked, the anger giving way to something raw and vulnerable. "Why can't you let me have some peace?"

Tears welled up in her green eyes, blurring her vision.

Tears.

The sight of them ripped a hole through my carefully constructed facade. I stood there, rooted to the spot, as she pounded her fists against my chest, each blow a silent accusation.

"Answer me, damn you!" she cried, her voice thick with emotion. "You're ruining my marriage. Ivan barely talks to me anymore, all because of you. So tell me, why? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Shame washed over me, a tidal wave threatening to drown me. I knew what I was doing was wrong. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to walk away, to give her the space she so desperately craved.

But I couldn't. There was an invisible force pulling me towards her, a force stronger than reason, stronger than self-preservation. It was a force I didn't understand, but it was undeniable.

I opened my mouth to speak, to apologize, to offer some kind of explanation. But the words wouldn't come. All I could manage was a choked whisper of her name

"Silver."

"Don't call me that," she spat, her voice raw with emotion. "I'm not your Silver anymore."

But she was. She was Amaya, the woman who haunted my dreams, the woman who held a piece of my heart that I didn't even know was missing. She was Amaya, the woman I'd pushed away, the woman I now desperately yearned for.

"I'm sorry," I finally managed, the words scraping against my throat. "I'm so sorry, Silver." That was the nickname I'd given her, a secret whispered between us, a symbol of the bond we shared.

Without thinking, I reached out and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. Her body stiffened for a moment, her sobs muffled against my chest. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, she began to relax, her tears soaking into my shirt.

"I don't want your pity apology, Alex," she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper.

I held her tighter, the scent of her hair filling my senses, a familiar comfort amidst the storm. "It's not pity," I whispered back. "It's regret. It's realization that I messed up, big time."

She stayed in my arms for what felt like an eternity, her body trembling with unspoken emotions. Finally, she pulled away, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

Her eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, held a flicker of vulnerability. "What do you even want, Alex?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

My fingers, hesitant at first, brushed the damp trails on her cheeks. The tears left a salty residue, a physical reminder of the storm she was weathering. As I wiped them away, she looked up at me, her green eyes raw and exposed.

It was then, in that moment of raw vulnerability, that the answer, clear as day, broke through the fog clouding The answ my mind. The answer to the question that hung heavy in the air, the question that had been gnawing at me for weeks.

It was a simple answer. Her. I simply wanted her.

The air crackled with unspoken emotions, a tangible tension that filled the room.

Something had shifted, a fundamental change in the dynamic throat. between us. I could feel it in the way my heart hammered against my ribs, in the way my breath caught in my

"Alex," she whispered, her voice barely audible. It was a single word, but it held a universe of emotions - confusion, hurt, maybe even a sliver of hope.

I didn't know what to say. The apology that had been stuck in my throat for weeks seemed even more inadequate now. Words felt hollow, empty promises in the face of the damage I'd done.

But then, before I could even attempt to formulate a coherent response, she surprised me. She closed the distance between us, her breath warm against my lips and then her lips met mine..

her I responded instinctively, my arms wrapping around her, pulling closer. The kiss deepened, a tangle of emotions swirling between us. It was a kiss that was both a question and v.e an answer, a plea for forgiveness and a promise of something more.

It was a kiss that hung suspended in time, a stolen moment in the midst of a brewing storm. And as the kiss intensified, as the line between past and present blurred, only one question remained unanswered:

What would happen next?