Maya looked down at their joined hands, watching Rege's thumb move slowly across her knuckles.
The bedside lamp cast a soft golden glow over the room, illuminating the rumpled blankets and the dark blue sweatshirt she wore. Beyond the curtains, the grounds of the Hastings estate lay beneath the darkness, the occasional rustle of leaves barely audible through the closed windows.
Her phone remained face down on the bedside table.
The document they had been reading was still open, forgotten for the moment.
Everything around them was quiet.
Yet Maya could hear her own heartbeat.
She had spent so long keeping certain memories to herself that the thought of finally putting them into words felt almost unnatural. She knew Rege wanted to understand what had happened between her and Calvin, but knowing that he wanted to listen did not make the beginning any easier.
How was she supposed to explain something that had changed so much about her without allowing herself to return to the person she had been when it happened?
She drew a slow breath.
Then another.
"I don't think I can tell you what happened without starting from the beginning, so buckle up. It's going to be a wild ride."
She tried to make the statement sound playful, even managing a small smile at the end, attempting to make light of a story she had spent years keeping to herself.
Rege chuckled softly.
His fingers closed more securely around hers before he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
He lowered their joined hands between them again, settling against the pillows with one arm resting behind her.
He didn't ask her to begin. He simply waited, giving her the time she needed to find her words.
Maya looked down at their joined hands.
Then she sighed.
It was the sort of sigh someone might give before embarking on a particularly long journey, and under different circumstances, Rege might have found it amusing enough to tease her about it.
Instead, he watched her face.
There was no impatience in his expression, no indication that he expected her to hurry through the story. He had settled against the pillows with one arm resting behind her, his attention fixed entirely on her face.
Something about that made her feel brave enough to begin.
She shifted slightly, drawing one leg beneath herself.
Rege gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
Maya looked up at him briefly before turning her gaze toward the window.
"Five years ago, I moved from London to New York for NYU."
Her expression softened as the memories began to return.
"I had so many dreams when I came here. I wanted to experience something different, build a life for myself, and prove that I could do things on my own. I was excited about everything. Even the smallest things seemed important."
She laughed quietly.
"I remember being fascinated by things that probably wouldn't impress anyone who had lived here their entire life."
A small smile returned to her face.
Rege watched her.
"The buildings, the streets, the restaurants, the people rushing around as though they were constantly late for something. Even the traffic fascinated me at first."
His mouth twitched.
Her smile widened.
"I fell in love with the city," she continued. "I finally understood why New York was known as the city of dreams. There were so many people trying to become something, trying to build something, trying to find their place in the world. Everyone seemed to be going somewhere."
She paused, glancing briefly toward the window.
"And I felt like I was going somewhere too."
Rege watched the excitement return to her face as she described the city she had fallen in love with.
Her eyes genuinely did shine when she spoke about something she loved.
It was an almost distracting thing to witness.
He had seen her laugh until she could barely speak, become offended over fictional characters, and look at a plate of cake as though it contained the secrets of the universe.
But this was different.
There was something particularly beautiful about seeing her return to a memory in which she had been so full of hope.
He brushed his thumb over her knuckles.
Maya glanced down at the movement, then back at him.
Her smile lingered.
"On my second night in New York, I met Calvin."
Rege's expression barely changed, though his attention sharpened slightly.
"My ex," she clarified, then gave a small, embarrassed laugh.
The corner of Rege's mouth moved.
Maya smiled at the faint reaction before continuing.
"I met him at the church I attended that evening. He was very nice, friendly, and charming. We spoke for a while, and when it was time for me to leave, he offered to walk me home."
She shifted slightly against the pillows.
"I remember thinking he was such a gentleman. I barely knew anyone in the city at the time, so having someone offer to help me felt reassuring."
She smiled faintly at the memory.
Maya continued.
"He made sure I got home safely, and after that, we started talking more often. He began showing me around the city. He was practically my personal tour guide."
A quiet laugh escaped her.
"He would take me to places he thought I should see, tell me little things about different neighbourhoods, and recommend places to eat. Sometimes, we'd walk around for hours. He made everything feel less unfamiliar."
Her smile grew as she remembered those early days.
She lowered her gaze to their hands.
"He made me feel welcome here."
The admission was simple, but Rege understood what it meant.
"We became friends, and I enjoyed spending time with him. About two months later, he told me he was interested in me."
She shook her head slightly, remembering.
"I didn't say yes immediately. I wanted to think about it and understand exactly how I felt about him."
Rege listened without interrupting.
His fingers remained intertwined with hers, occasionally brushing over her skin as she spoke.
Maya shook her head, smiling despite herself.
"I fell in love with him quite quickly. I suppose I liked the way he treated me, and I enjoyed having him around. He was kind to me, and at the time, I thought we understood each other."
Rege's thumb stilled briefly against her hand before resuming its gentle movement.
Maya didn't seem to notice.
"About three or four months after he told me how he felt, I agreed to be with him."
Rege remained quiet.
She leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.
"The beginning was lovely," Maya continued. "Everything felt easy and rosy. We went out together, spent time talking, and made plans. He made me feel wanted, and I genuinely believed he loved me. I thought we were building something good."
Her smile lingered for another moment.
Her voice carried no bitterness when she said it.
That was what made the memory complicated.
She wasn't describing a relationship that had been miserable from the beginning. She was describing a time when she had been happy, when she had trusted someone, when the future had looked different because she had believed she was sharing it with the right person.
Maya turned her head toward Rege.
"I really did love him."
Rege's gaze remained on hers.
There was no accusation in his face, no impatience, no suggestion that loving someone before him was something she needed to defend.
Maya studied him for a moment.
Then she smiled faintly and looked away again.
It was such a small exchange, but something in her chest loosened. She hadn't realised how much she had worried about saying those words aloud until she had said them and found nothing waiting for her on the other side of them except Rege's steady presence.
She took another breath before continuing.
"About a month into our relationship, he was evicted from the apartment he shared with his friend."
Her expression changed slightly as she remembered the circumstances.
"His living situation hadn't been particularly good for a while. He spent most of his time at my place anyway because his apartment wasn't comfortable, and I didn't like the thought of him having nowhere to go. So I made him move in with me."
She gave a small shrug.
A faint smile touched her mouth.
"Looking back, it was a big decision to make so early in a relationship. But at the time, it didn't feel like something I needed to question. We were together, I loved him, and I wanted to help him."
She glanced at Rege.
"I thought we could make it work."
He said nothing, allowing her to continue.
"I tried to make him comfortable. I made room for his things, adjusted to having someone else around, and did what I could to make the apartment feel like a home for both of us. Before long, it felt as though he had always lived there."
Maya's fingers moved restlessly against Rege's.
Her smile remained for another moment, but it had begun to lose its warmth.
"Things were okay for a while."
She fell silent.
Rege noticed the change immediately.
The brightness had faded from her eyes, and her shoulders had drawn inward. Her fingers, which had been moving comfortably against his hand, had become still.
He waited.
His hand closed more securely around hers.
Maya swallowed and drew a slow breath.
"Until we became reckless," she continued quietly. "And things took a turn."
Her voice faltered at the end.
Maya stopped speaking and drew a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
The words seemed to have lodged somewhere in her throat, and the tightness gathering in her chest refused to ease.
Rege noticed the change immediately. His thumb stilled against her hand before he lifted his other hand to her cheek.
The tenderness of the gesture nearly undid her.
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she bit down on her lower lip, struggling to hold herself together.
Rege's chest tightened.
Before she could force herself to continue, he drew her into his arms.
Maya went willingly.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, holding him tightly as the first tears slipped down her cheeks.
Rege felt the first warm tear against his neck.
His jaw tightened as he drew her closer, one hand settling against the back of her head while the other moved slowly over her back.
He didn't tell her to stop.
He didn't tell her everything would be fine.
He simply held her.
Maya clung to him, her face hidden against his skin. Every uneven breath seemed to find its way beneath his ribs, tightening something inside his chest.
He rested his cheek against her hair and continued holding her until her breathing gradually began to settle.
For several minutes, neither of them spoke.
Rege rested his cheek lightly against her hair.
Eventually, Maya loosened her arms and drew back.
She kept her eyes lowered as she wiped her cheeks with her fingers, attempting to gather herself before looking at him again.
"Sorry," she murmured, giving him a small, embarrassed smile.
Rege's expression hardened slightly.
Not at her.
At the apology.
He brushed the remaining tears from beneath her eyes with his fingertips.
Maya watched him for a moment before his hand moved to the back of her neck, his fingers settling there in a slow, familiar caress.
A shiver travelled down her spine.
The unexpected sensation distracted her momentarily from the heaviness in her chest. When she looked at him again, a shy smile had begun to return to her face.
She gave a small giggle.
Rege's gaze remained on her.
The tension in his shoulders eased, though only slightly.
Maya noticed.
Of course she did.
She knew him well enough by now to recognise the difference between his stillness when he was at ease and the stillness that came when something had lodged itself beneath his skin.
Even now, he wasn't asking her to hurry.
He wasn't looking away from the pain she had just shown him.
And somehow, that made it easier to continue.
Rege took both her hands in his.
His fingers closed around them, and his thumb moved gently over her knuckles.
Maya looked down at their joined hands.
For a moment, she simply watched him hold her.
She drew a slow breath and settled against him again, leaving enough space between them to look at his face.
"I got pregnant."
The words emerged quietly.
Rege went still.
For a moment, he simply looked at her, absorbing what she had said.
Maya lowered her eyes.
"He and I weren't in a position to take care of a baby at the time. Calvin wasn't working, and I was only in my first year at NYU. I didn't have the financial stability to raise a child, and neither of us was prepared for the responsibility."
Her fingers tightened around his.
"I couldn't handle being a mother then, and he couldn't handle being a father."
She swallowed.
Her voice wavered, but she continued.
"So we decided to terminate the pregnancy."
Her voice broke slightly.
"It was one of the hardest things I've ever been through."
Rege's jaw tightened, but he didn't interrupt.
Maya stared at their hands.
"It went against everything I believed in. I had never imagined myself being in that situation, and I didn't know how to reconcile what I was going through with what I had always thought I would do if something like that ever happened to me."
She took a shaky breath.
"I knew why we were making that decision. I understood our circumstances. But understanding why something had to happen didn't make it painless."
Rege's fingers closed more securely around hers.
Maya looked down at his hand, drawing comfort from the warmth of his skin.
"We went through three agonising attempts before it was finally successful."
The words came out more quietly this time.
She didn't elaborate.
She didn't need to.
The memory was already visible in the way her shoulders tightened and her breathing became uneven.
Rege felt something twist painfully in his chest.
Rege didn't move away.
His hands remained around hers, but his jaw had tightened until the muscle near his cheek stood out.
Maya didn't look up to examine his expression.
She couldn't bear to.
"Calvin and I are the only people who know about it. I've never told anyone else. Not even Adela."
She let out a small, humourless breath.
"I couldn't bring myself to tell her. I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone, really. I just kept everything to myself and tried to move on."
She shook her head faintly.
"And I never told Calvin how much it affected me. I don't think he ever really understood the extent of it."
Her eyes began to sting again.
"It took a huge toll on me, Rege. I still think about it sometimes. I wonder what would have happened if I had kept the baby. What my life would have looked like. Who that little person might have become."
Her eyes filled again, though she blinked quickly.
Her voice softened until it was barely above a whisper.
"But then I remember the circumstances we were in, and I think it was probably better this way."
She looked down at her lap.
"And honestly, when I think about the kind of father Calvin might have been, I don't think I would have wanted that life for my child."
She paused.
"It's strange, because he wasn't a terrible person. He could be very nice. He could be thoughtful and sweet, and there were times when I genuinely believed we would spend our lives together."
Her mouth tightened faintly.
"But being nice isn't the same as being ready for something that important."
She took a breath.
"I can know that and still wonder about the life I didn't have."
The admission hung between them.
Now, sitting beside Rege, she found herself trying to explain something she had barely been able to admit to herself.
Her fingers shifted nervously against his.
Rege looked at her.
Maya hesitated.
Maya stared at the blanket for a moment before speaking again.
"I feel so much remorse when I think about the man I would eventually end up with."
She finally raised her eyes to his.
"In this case, you."
Something vulnerable passed across her face.
His expression changed almost imperceptibly.
Maya's fingers tightened around his.
"I keep thinking that I should have known better. I should have protected myself better. I should have made different choices."
Her voice faltered.
"I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I should have done things differently, and I wonder if—"
Rege moved before she could say anything else.
Rege leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Maya's eyes closed almost instinctively.
His lips lingered against her skin for a moment before he moved to kiss her closed eyelids, then her cheeks, catching the last traces of moisture beneath them.
When he drew back, he didn't move far.
His face remained close to hers, his aquamarine eyes fixed on her lowered face.
"It's not your fault, Krasota."
His voice was quiet, but there was nothing uncertain about it.
Maya's breath caught.
"You survived something most women don't."
She opened her eyes.
For a moment, she couldn't bring herself to look at him properly.
Rege's gaze held hers.
His hand remained against her cheek, his thumb resting just beneath her eye. His expression was composed in the way she knew so well, but the tension in his jaw hadn't disappeared.
He was looking at her as though he had heard every word, including the ones she had struggled to say, and had no intention of allowing her to turn her pain into something she needed to apologise for.
Maya's eyes dropped again.
"Rege, I'm sorry you've been through…"
She couldn't finish the sentence.
Rege leaned forward and kissed her, briefly and firmly, stopping the apology before she could turn her pain into another thing she felt she owed him.
When he drew back, his hand remained against the side of her face.
"You never have to apologise for anything, Krasota."
His voice lowered on the final word.
Maya went quiet.
She could feel the warmth of his palm against her cheek and the faint brush of his thumb against her skin. She looked at him, trying to find the right words, but everything she had prepared seemed inadequate.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Rege held her gaze.
Maya felt something tighten inside her chest.
His eyes were usually so composed, so difficult for anyone to read. Yet she had learned to recognise the things that moved beneath that composure. She knew when his silence meant he was thinking, when his stillness meant he was holding something back, when a small movement of his hand said what he would never bother putting into words.
She saw it now.
He was still here, holding her hand and looking at her with the same affection he had shown her before she told him any of this.
Maya's heart ached.
Not with the shame she had been carrying when she began the story, but with the unfamiliar relief of no longer having to keep every part of it hidden.
She had shown him something she had spent years trying to bury.
And he hadn't looked away.
Before she could make sense of everything gathering inside her, Rege's hand moved to the nape of her neck.
His fingers settled there, warm against her skin.
He drew her toward him and kissed her.
There was nothing tentative about it.
His lips met hers with an intensity that stole the breath from her lungs, and Maya responded before she had time to think. Her hand rose to his shoulder, her fingers curling into the fabric beneath them as she leaned closer.
Rege kissed her deeply, his hand firm at the back of her neck.
Maya felt the emotions in it without being able to separate them. There was tenderness, certainly, but something more difficult to name lay beneath it, something that made her chest tighten even as she melted into him.
She couldn't have explained what passed between them in that moment.
She didn't need to.
She knew Rege.
And he knew her.
Perhaps not every part of her past, not every memory she had kept to herself, but the woman sitting in his arms now. The woman who had finally trusted him enough to tell him something she had never told anyone else.
He held her as though he had no intention of letting the moment slip away.
Maya lost herself in the kiss.
In the warmth of his mouth, in the hand at her neck, in the familiar scent of him that always seemed to make her feel a little inebriated. In the quiet certainty of being held by someone who didn't need her to find perfect words for everything she felt.
For once, she wasn't trying to explain herself.
She wasn't trying to make her past sound less painful or convince him that she had made the right choices.
She was simply there, with him.
And Rege was there with her.
For now, that was enough.