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The air was heavy, charged with a tension stretching between them like a wire about to snap.
Lucy hadn’t planned on coming.
She had sworn to move on, to stop drowning in the what-ifs that had haunted her for months. She had done everything to avoid this moment, to keep herself from sinking once again into the maelstrom of emotions she had spent weeks trying to bury.
But she was here, standing on his doorstep, unable to turn back.
And Tim was looking at her like he had seen a ghost.
He had opened the door without a word, frozen, his hand clenched around the handle. His face was unreadable, but she could see the storm in his eyes. A second passed, stretching endlessly between them.
For a brief moment, she thought he might close the door.
But he didn’t.
The silence between them was thick, vibrating with everything they had never had the courage to say.
" Lucy… " he finally breathed.
His name, murmured in a rough whisper, clenched around her chest.
Her throat tightened, her breath quickened slightly. She should have spoken, found something to say.
But how could she explain what had driven her to knock on his door that night, when she had sworn never to come back?
In the end, it was Tim who broke the silence.
" What are you doing here?"
His voice was harsher than he intended, sharp. A defense mechanism, as if he hoped to make her leave before she could dig beneath the surface and see what he was trying to hide.
But Lucy didn’t leave.
She held his gaze for a second longer, and without answering, she took a step forward.
Tim barely hesitated before stepping aside, giving her room to enter. He didn’t need to ask why she was there. He already knew.
She stepped inside, and a wave of emotions crashed over her instantly.
Everything was the same. Too the same.
The familiar scent of coffee he still drank too late at night, the jacket carelessly draped over the back of a chair, the old vinyl record sitting on the TV stand—the one she had given him, the one he had never put away.
And that damn silence between them, now an impenetrable wall.
Tim slowly closed the door behind her, as if he was only now realizing she was really there.
Lucy turned to him, her gaze locked onto his.
" Tell me one thing, Tim. Just one."
Her voice was low but sharp. She wanted the truth. Just one.
He slowly nodded, his brows knitting together slightly, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what came next.
" Was it easy for you?"
He blinked, caught off guard.
" What?"
Lucy wetted her lips, trying to contain the emotion threatening to overwhelm her.
Her throat was tight, her breath short. Every beat of her heart pounded against her ribs with a painful intensity, as if bracing for a blow she knew was coming.
But she needed to know.
" Letting me go," she murmured.
Her own voice sounded foreign. Too fragile. Too exposed.
Tim didn’t answer immediately.
She saw his body tense, a shadow flicker across his eyes. He could have lied. Found an excuse, turned the conversation away.
But he didn’t.
His gaze locked onto hers, and in a fraction of a second, she saw everything he was trying to hide.
The pain.
The doubt.
The regret.
It was all there, in that single suspended moment—when his shoulders dropped just slightly, when his lips parted but no words came out.
Then, slowly, he shook his head. A trembling sigh escaped him, as if he was crumbling under the weight of his own answer.
" No."
Lucy felt something shatter inside her.
A raw breath slipped from her lips, and she clenched her fists, fighting against the wave of emotions threatening to drag her under.
" Then why?"
Her voice was stronger this time. Sharper.
Tim looked away.
He ran a hand over his neck in that nervous gesture she knew by heart. One of those tells he had whenever he was about to admit something he had never dared to say out loud.
Lucy waited, her heart in shambles.
Finally, in a rough breath, he let it out:
" Because I thought it was better for you."
His tone was flat, almost cold, but she saw the way his fingers clenched, as if saying those words cost him just as much as hearing them did for her.
Lucy let out a dry, joyless laugh.
" You thought, she repeated, a bitter smile twisting her lips."
She shook her head slowly, frustration and pain knotting in her stomach.
Tim let his hand drop, resigned, as if he had just accepted what he already knew: that he had been wrong.
" I wanted you to be happy, Lucy."
His voice was hoarse, broken. Like he was still trying to convince himself that he had done the right thing, as if those words were enough to justify something that had never made sense.
Lucy felt a painful heat spread through her chest.
" And you think I was happy? Without you?"
Tim’s head snapped up, like she had just hit him with something he hadn’t seen coming.
She saw the raw pain in his eyes, that mix of regret and uncertainty, as if he was only now realizing that his decision hadn’t had the outcome he had expected.
He had convinced himself that he had done the right thing.
That he had stepped aside for her sake.
That she would be better off without him.
But he was wrong.
So, she moved forward.
One step. Then another.
She felt the tension crackle in the air, like an electric current wrapping around them, hot and unstoppable.
The space between them shrunk, inch by inch, yet he didn’t move.
He let her come closer.
" I didn’t fall in love with you because I was lonely or lost, Tim."
He held his breath.
She saw it—the exact moment everything shifted inside him, when his entire body tensed under the impact of her words.
But she didn’t give him the chance to run.
" I fell in love with you because after knowing you, I realized I wanted to make you a permanent part of my world."
His breathing hitched—just barely. A tiny, imperceptible reaction.
But she noticed. She always did.
His gaze darkened, his jaw clenched, and she saw the battle raging inside him. The fight against himself, against what he felt, against what he still refused to face.
Lucy stopped just a breath away, tilting her head slightly, capturing his full attention in a whisper.
" Did you forget me?"
Tim closed his eyes briefly.
His face twisted slightly, as if the question had stabbed right through him.
Then, in a breath, he answered:
" You know I didn’t."
His voice was hoarse, an admission torn straight from his chest.
Lucy felt a wave of heat spread through her chest, but it wasn’t relief.
It was a burning mix of anger, sadness, and love, a whirlwind of emotions that left her breathless.
His gaze was blazing when he opened his eyes again, and she felt her stomach tighten under the sheer intensity of it.
He wasn’t lying.
He had never forgotten her.
" Then why do you keep pushing me away?"
She already knew the answer. But she needed to hear it. She needed him to face what he still refused to admit.
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
He lowered his head slightly, his gaze drifting toward the floor, like he was searching for an escape.
" Because I’m scared."
Lucy took a deep breath.
She had expected it, but hearing it out loud was something else entirely.
" Scared of what?"
He ran a hand over his face, exhausted, like his own thoughts were wearing him down.
She saw his shoulders rise with a deep sigh, the tension coiling in every muscle of his body.
Then, finally, he murmured:
" Of ruining everything."
The words echoed between them like a forbidden confession.
Lucy held his gaze, her heart pounding against her ribs.
He had spent his entire life trying to control everything. Locking away every emotion, every impulse, forbidding himself from anything uncertain.
But love—love can’t be controlled.
She let his words linger in the air, watching him battle against himself.
Then, slowly, she shook her head.
" You’re an idiot, Tim Bradford."
A bitter smirk ghosted across his lips, but he didn’t even have the energy to pretend to argue.
" That, I already knew, he exhaled."
She could have laughed.
But there was something else. Something more important.
So, slowly, she lifted a hand and let her fingers graze his cheek.
He didn’t move.
But she felt his breath hitch under her touch.
She felt the tension beneath his skin, the warmth of his face against her palm, the hesitation in his gaze as he fought against the urge to lean into her.
" You think you protected me by pushing me away…"
Her voice was softer now, more intimate, but she knew she had struck straight to the heart of him.
" … but all you did was hurt us both."
Her thumb brushed gently along his skin, tracing a featherlight caress along his jaw.
Tim closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if that simple touch was enough to make him falter.
" You never understood that it wasn’t up to you to decide what was best for me."
She heard his sharp intake of breath, as if she had just shattered the last wall he had left.
When he opened his eyes again, they were burning with emotion—and this time, he didn’t try to run.
" Lucy…"
Her name was no longer a hesitation.
It was a plea.
" I’m here," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath." And I’m not going anywhere."
Tim held her gaze, frozen in a suspended second, an instant where everything could change.
She wasn’t sure who moved first.
Maybe him. Maybe her.
All she knew was that suddenly, his lips were on hers.
The first contact was burning, devastating, a shockwave that spread through every fiber of her being.
It was a kiss loaded with everything they had never dared to say.
The pain.
The longing.
The love.
Tim pulled her against him with a desperation that left no room for hesitation, like a man who had spent too much time fighting the inevitable. Like he was afraid she’d disappear again.
Lucy clung to him, her fingers sliding into his hair, gripping his neck, his t-shirt—anything to bring him closer.
He kissed her like he wanted to etch her into him, like he needed to make sure she stayed there, against him, that this time, nothing would come between them.
The heat of his body burned against hers, wrapping around her with an intensity that stole her breath.
Her heart was pounding too fast, too hard, but she didn’t care.
The only thing that mattered was Tim—his lips pressing hungrily against hers, his hand sliding slowly down her back, his ragged breath mixing with her own.
He deepened the kiss, slowly, intensely, tracing the shape of her mouth like he wanted to memorize every part of it.
Lucy felt a shockwave rush through her, a fire consuming everything in its path, burning her from the inside out.
Her fingers fisted desperately in his t-shirt, pulling him impossibly closer, as if she could anchor herself to him, erase the pain of the past few months.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless, their eyes still half-lidded from the intensity of the moment, Tim let his forehead rest against hers.
His breathing was short, uneven, and Lucy could feel the erratic pounding of his heart against her chest.
He stayed like that, unmoving, as if trying to steady himself, as if he had just realized that the fight was over.
" I’m tired of fighting this," he finally whispered.
His voice was hoarse, trembling, filled with raw sincerity.
Lucy let out a soft, almost imperceptible smile, but her eyes shone with infinite tenderness.
She traced her fingers along his cheek, her touch as light as a breath.
" Then stop."
Tim closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply, as if those two words alone were enough to quiet the chaos inside him.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
He pulled Lucy a little closer, breathing her in, anchoring himself to this reality—one he refused to lose again.
There was nothing left to say.
This time, he understood.
And this time, he wasn’t going to let her go.