The room felt too big for her.
Too empty.
Athena sat on the floor where she had collapsed, her back against the wall, knees drawn tight, arms wrapped around herself as if she could physically keep her heart from tearing loose. The tiles beneath her were cold, seeping into her skin, but she didn't move. She didn't deserve warmth.
Her breathing came uneven, shallow. Every inhale felt like it scraped her lungs.
She hadn't cried at first.
She had just stared.
At nothing.
Then her chest began to ache — slow, deep, unbearable — and the tears followed, silent and relentless, sliding down her face and dripping onto her skirt like they had nowhere else to go.
Stephan's face rose uninvited in her mind.
The way he smiled at her.
The way he waited for her.
The way he said her name like she mattered.
Her throat tightened.
She pressed her palm hard against her mouth, trying to keep the sound inside, but a broken whisper slipped through anyway.
"Why did it have to be you…?"
The name she didn't say hurt the most.
She curled in tighter, nails biting into her arms.
She wanted to hate him.
God, she tried.
But the thought alone made her chest burn worse.
The door opened softly.
Athena barely noticed — until she felt the presence, the pause, the careful steps that followed.
Madeline dropped to her knees in front of her.
For a moment, she didn't speak. She just looked at Athena — really looked — and something in her expression shattered.
"Ath," she said quietly. "You're breaking."
Athena laughed weakly — a sound with no humor in it.
"I already did."
Madeline swallowed. "Are you really going to walk away from him?"
Athena finally lifted her head.
Her eyes were red, hollow, exhausted in a way that went far deeper than crying. When she spoke, it felt like each word cost her something she couldn't afford to lose.
"If I stay… I betray myself."
Her voice trembled. "And if I leave… I lose the only person who ever made me feel like I wasn't alone."
She shook her head slowly. "What kind of choice is that?"
Madeline's heart clenched.
"You love him," she said softly.
Athena's breath hitched.
That was it.
That was the thing she hadn't said.
Her lips parted, then pressed together, and when she finally nodded, it was barely there.
"Yes."
The word fell like a confession.
"And I hate myself for it," Athena whispered. "Every time I think of his last name, something inside me dies. But when I think of his smile… I want to run back."
Tears spilled again, heavier now.
"How do I love someone whose blood is tied to the people who destroyed my family?" Her voice broke completely. "How do I look at him and not see everything I lost?"
Madeline reached forward and pulled her into her arms.
Athena didn't resist.
She clung to her like a lifeline, sobbing openly now — not loud, not dramatic, just raw and ugly and real. The kind of crying that came from knowing there was no right answer.
"I don't want to let him go," she whispered. "But I don't know how to keep him without losing myself."
Madeline held her tighter.
"Then don't decide tonight," she murmured into her hair. "Some wounds need time before they stop screaming."
Athena's breathing slowly began to steady, though the pain didn't ease.
"I'm scared," she admitted. "If I walk away now… I might never be brave enough to go back."
Madeline pulled back just enough to look at her.
"And if you stay," she said gently, "you might bleed forever."
Athena closed her eyes.
A thin line of blood slipped from her nose, warm against her skin.
Madeline noticed instantly. "Ath…"
Athena touched it, stared at the red on her fingers, strangely calm.
"See?" she said quietly. "Even my body knows I can't carry this."
Madeline stood and held out her hand. "Come on. Let me help you clean up."
Athena hesitated — then took it.
As they walked toward the bathroom, Athena glanced back once at the dark room behind her.
It felt like the place where she had lost something she could never name.
Love hadn't left her.
But it had become a wound.
And wounds, she was learning, could either heal —
or fester into something far more dangerous.