Chapter 68
KASMINE
1 stormed past him. My fists clenched at my sides in an attempt to shake off the fury burning beneath my skin. Did Kester think the world revolved around him alone? He was a control freak, and it was freaking me out already. I barged into my room, the image of June’s tear–streaked face plaguing my thoughts.
Kester’s heavy footsteps followed behind me, and before I could slam the door shut, his strong hand caught it.
With an effortless push, he forced his way inside, closing the door behind him with an annoying calmness. He stood there, hands tucked into his pockets, completely unaffected by my rage.
His calmness was grating on my nerves.
“What the hell, Kester!” I spun around to face him, my voice barely restrained. “June could have heard what you said to me out there!”
His silence was infuriating
“I was out there consoling her, trying to ease the pain I was putting her through! And you-“My breath hitched, frustration swelling in my chest. “You had no right to speak to me like that!”
He still said nothing. He just watched me lose my control.
His eyes stayed locked on me, his face betraying nothing. But the longer I looked at him, the more I realized–this wasn’t indifference. This was restraint.
His anger, which was usually lethal, actually simmered beneath the surface, and I know I should have stopped. I should have picked my words more carefully. But I was too frustrated and too exhausted to care.
“What actually is your problem, Kasmine?” His voice was eerily calm as if he were forcing himself to stay in control. Like he was holding something dangerous back.
I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “You are my problem, Kester.”
His jaw twitched.
It was a warning.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” I continued, my voice faltering. “This… whatever this is between us. I can’t keep pretending that it’s okay. I’m hurting too many people.” My chest tightened. “I’m hurting myself.”
His expression didn’t change. He just stood there, watching me.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
Not the kind that meant he was amused. Not even the kind that meant he was angry. It was something else- something dark and unreadable. The kind that made my stomach tighten
He took a step forward.
“Kester-”
Another step.
He reached out, his fingers brushing the side of my face. His touch was light and almost tender.
Chapter 65
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I felt my heart slam against my ribs.
“Are you ready for the surprise I told you about?” His voice was soft, almost as if he was teasing me.
Like I hadn’t just told him that I wanted out.
Like my words had meant absolutely nothing to him.
That was when something inside me snapped.
I shoved him hard in the chest. “Stop!” My voice cracked. “Just stop and listen to me!”
He barely moved from my push, but he took a slow step back, tilting his head slightly.
“I mean it, Kester,” I whispered as I felt my throat tightening. “People are getting hurt because of us. Because of this. We need to stop.”
His face was blank again.
Then, he took another step forward.
My pulse skittered. “Don’t. Kester.”
He ignored me and reached for me again.
I didn’t think I acted out of impulse and the frustration he was igniting in me.
I slapped him. As hard as my small self could strike.
My breath came in harsh, panicked gasps, My hands trembled at my sides.
Tears blurred my vision. My stomach twisted with fear.
I was terrified of what he’d do next.
I saw the way his head turned slightly from the impact of the slap and the way his body went rigid.
Then nothing. No other reaction.
A slow, terrifying silence settled between us.
I wiped at my tears with the back of my hand, but they kept coming. “You never listen,” I whispered in a breaking voice. “You never fucking listen.”
Tears poured down my face, my chest rising and falling with shaky breaths. My throat felt so raw, my voice barely holding together,
I could still feel the sting in my palm, the burn where my skin had met his, but Kester–he hadn’t moved. Hadn’t flinched. Hadn’t even fucking blinked!
“June is already hurting. Claire is hurting.” I clenched my fists, forcing myself not to say ‘his‘ name. Not to drag Jake into this. “This is already bad enough.”
I swallowed, my body trembling. “And worst of all… I’m starting to feel things I shouldn’t. That wasn’t the plan, Kester. It was never supposed to be like this.” I took a staggering step back.
He still didn’t say a word, but I could swear I saw a reaction in his eyes when I mentioned that I was feeling things 1 shouldn’t feel. But he masked it immediately.
My words dried up, swallowed by my sobs.
Chapter 68
The silence was killing me.
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I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, trying to make sense of the war raging inside me, but it was all useless. The moment I dropped my hands, another sob wrenched its way up my
throat.
I shook my head, barely able to speak through the mess of tears. “If–If Dad ever found out…” My lungs seized painfully. “If Mum ever knew… She would be heartbroken, Kester. She’d never forgive me.”
I let out a bitter laugh between my sobs, shaking my head. “We have to stop. We should’ve stopped a long time ago.”
I was falling apart in front of him, quickly unraveling at the seams. And still–he didn’t say a word.
My breath came in short, ragged bursts. I didn’t have anything left to say. I was exhausted. Drained. I felt like I had just ripped my heart out and handed it to him, only for him to stare at it like it meant nothing.
I made to walk away when he closed the distance between us. I barely had the time to react before his arms were around me, pulling me into him.
A choked sound left my lips as his warmth engulfed me, his broad chest pressing against my trembling body.
No
I whimpered, weakly trying to push against him, my lists pressing against his solid frame. “Kester, stop.”
But he didn’t.
Instead, he pressed his cheek against the top of my head, one hand cradling the back of it while the other rubbing slow, soothing circles against my spine.
“Hush,” he murmured, “It’s going to be fine.”
A sob wracked through me.
“I promise,” he whispered, his breath warm against my hair. “It’s going to be fine.”
The first thing I registered was warmth. A slow, consuming kind of warmth that made me hesitate before fully waking up. It cradled and surrounded me as though I had been wrapped in something solid yet impossibly gentle.
The second thing was the steady, rhythmic thumping beneath my ear.
A heartbeat.
Kester’s.
My lashes fluttered, the dim lighting in the room slowly filtering into my vision as I stirred. My cheek was pressed against the hard expanse of Kester’s chest, my body curled against his, and realization struck me like a bolt of lightning
I had fallen asleep on him.
His arm was wrapped securely around my waist. His other hand, the one tangled in my hair, stirred the moment I moved with his fingers threading through the strands in a slow, lazy motion that sent shivers skittering down my spine.
He was awake.
The entire time.
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Chapter 68
He had held and caressed me until I slept and woke up.
The realization made my stomach tighten, heat pooling beneath my skin in a way that had nothing to do with the warmth of his embrace. My fingers, which had somehow fisted lightly against his shirt in sleep, flexed slightly. “You’re awake.” He asked in a gruff voice.
I swallowed, my pulse skittering. “You stayed awake all evening?”
His fingers paused in my hair for a brief second before he hummed a deep sound that rumbled in his chest.
“You wouldn’t let go,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my forehead.
I sucked in a slow breath, my fingers curling against his shirt again, gripping it lightly, “Kester…” I didn’t even know what I wanted to say, what I was supposed to say.
I had fought him. Shoved him. Slapped him. Screamed at him. And yet, here he was, holding me like I was something so fragile. Like I was something he would never let slip through his fingers.
o with that.
I didn’t know what to do with that.
I felt his hand move, trailing lightly down my back, his fingers tracing the ridges of my spine. “How are you feeling now?”
How was I feeling?
The question was almost laughable. I should’ve been a mess–hell, I still was–but there was something about this moment, about his warmth, about the way his fingers never stopped their slow, soothing motion, that made the storm inside me feel… distant.
“…Better,” I admitted, almost reluctantly.
His hand stilled for a moment before resuming its slow path down my back. “Good. Because I still want to show you that surprise I was talking about.”
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