Chapter Five - What Was He Hiding?

Saint's voice broke through the quiet, his words calm yet firm. "Let's go outside, Alina. Get some fresh air. It'll take your mind off everything."

I hesitated for a moment, my eyes lingering on his face. There was something comforting in his presence, something that made me want to believe his every word. But the nagging feeling in the back of my mind still lingered.

“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice soft. “It’s late.”

He smiled, standing up from the bed. “I’m sure. Trust me, it’ll help.”

With that, he extended his hand toward me, his gaze steady, waiting for me to take it. I studied his face for a moment, looking for any sign of hesitation or deceit, but found none. Reluctantly, I placed my hand in his.

The moment our fingers brushed, I felt the warmth of his touch, and the tension in my chest seemed to ease just a little.

“Come on,” he said, his voice low but reassuring. “Let’s go.”

He led me out of the room and down the hallway, his hand still gripping mine. The coolness of the night air hit me as we stepped outside onto the balcony. The soft glow of the city lights below mixed with the deep blue of the sky, the night peaceful and calm.

Saint motioned for me to sit on one of the chairs, and I did, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his insistence than he was letting on. Still, I took in the quietness of the night, the wind gently brushing my skin.

“You used to love this view,” Saint said, taking a seat beside me. “You would always come out here when you needed to think.”

I nodded, though I couldn’t remember any of those moments. Still, the idea of it made sense. The stillness of the night, the space to think... I could see how it would bring peace.

Saint's hand suddenly moved to my waist, pulling me closer. I blinked, surprised by the sudden shift, but before I could say anything, he started swaying us gently to a slow, silent rhythm.

I could feel his warmth radiating through the space between us, and though I didn’t fully understand why we were doing this, I didn’t pull away. His grip was firm, but there was something tender in the way he held me.

“You’re mine, Alina,” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. “I love you. You belong to me. You should never leave me.”

I froze, his words sinking deep into my chest. His voice was low, almost desperate, and it sent a strange feeling through me.

"Why are you talking like that?" I asked, my voice shaking slightly. “I can't leave you?”

His hands tightened around me, his grip possessive. “You can’t,” he said, his tone certain, as if it was an undeniable truth. “You love me, Alina. We’re meant to be together.”

I blinked, confused. “I... I love you too,” I whispered back, but there was something about the way he was speaking that unsettled me. It felt as though he was speaking for both of us, claiming something that I wasn’t entirely sure of.

He tilted his head, his eyes darkening, a small smile playing on his lips. “I knew you would say that.”

I looked up at him, searching his face for any signs of doubt or hesitation. But there was nothing. He looked so sure, so confident, as if our love was the only thing that mattered in the world.

I wanted to believe him. Part of me did. But something was still off.

“Saint…” I started, but the words caught in my throat. What was I supposed to say? How could I trust everything he was telling me when I couldn’t even remember most of it?

He gently pulled me closer, his lips brushing against my forehead. “You don’t need to worry. We have forever, Alina. Just you and me.”

Saint’s phone suddenly buzzed, breaking the moment. He pulled away from me reluctantly, his gaze flicking to the screen. “I need to take this,” he said, his voice still soft, but there was a hint of urgency in it. “I’ll be right back.”

I nodded silently, watching as he walked out onto the balcony, his hand gripping his phone tightly. Left alone, I sat there for a moment, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled in my chest.

I stood up slowly, deciding to walk around the house. Maybe if I explored a bit, something would trigger a memory, anything to make sense of all the confusion swirling in my mind. I passed by a few rooms, all looking unfamiliar, and tried to pay attention to the smallest details—the pictures on the walls, the furniture, the way the light hit each corner—but nothing felt right. There was no connection, no flicker of recognition.

As I wandered through the hallway, I heard Saint’s voice coming from the other side of the house, though I couldn’t make out the words. He was speaking in a low tone, his voice harsh but controlled. Curiosity urged me to get closer, but a strange sense of caution held me back.

I inched toward the source of the voice, careful not to make a sound. As I reached the corner, I caught the tail end of his conversation.

“…I don’t care how you want to do it, but she must not find out who I am.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and my breath caught in my throat. Who was he talking about? What was he hiding from me? My chest tightened with a mix of fear and confusion.

I stepped back, trying to gather my thoughts, but in the process, my foot caught on the rug, and I stumbled forward, my body crashing to the floor with a loud thud. The sudden noise startled me, and I quickly scrambled to my feet, panic rising in my chest.

Saint’s footsteps echoed through the house as he rushed toward me. “Alina?” he called, his voice filled with concern, but there was something else in it too—something darker.

I froze. Was he hiding something? And who was that conversation really about?

Before I could answer, I saw Saint standing in the doorway, his face a mask of calm, but his eyes were sharp. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice colder now.

I swallowed, trying to steady my racing heart. “I—I heard you,” I said, my voice trembling.

Saint’s gaze darkened. “It’s nothing for you to worry about,” he replied quickly, his tone dismissive. “Forget you ever heard that.”

But the seed of doubt had already been planted, and as he closed the distance between us, I couldn’t help but wonder: What was he hiding?