20. SOUR DESIRE.

ISAAC’S POV After the mess we made, the bed looked like a battlefield, sheets tangled, soaked, and ruined. I stripped them away, spreading a fresh set, laying out a new duvet. Anastasia had taken a quick shower, her body still trembling, before crawling back into bed and falling asleep almost instantly. This time, I didn’t touch her. My body had had enough. My mind too. Her voice wouldn’t stop replaying, every word carving into me like scripture meant only for me. “I love you, Isaac. I know it shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.” Sorry. God, I hated that she apologised. As if loving me was something to regret. As if she hadn’t just spoken the one thing I’d been dying to say but couldn’t. But even thinking about it felt like tempting fate. That was the part that burned. Why was she apologising for the one thing that kept me alive? Why was love from her lips wrapped in guilt? I loved her too. God, more than I could admit. More than I could dare to say a