Chapter 009

It's unbelievable that I'm standing here and seeing him leave once more. With each step Rogan makes toward the door, his coldness suffocates me like a dense cloud. I want to reach out to him, pleading with him to turn back and assure me that everything will be alright. However, I don't. I'm too terrified of what he could say—or worse, what he might not say—to move, and my heart is racing in my chest.

I yell, "Rogan, wait," in a faint but frantic voice. He doesn't stop, so I swallow the lump in my throat and push myself to move in his direction. doesn't even turn around.

"You don’t have to do this," I add, attempting to seem more resilient than I actually am. "You don’t have to push me away."

The quiet between us is oppressive for a time as he freezes at the doorway, his back to me.

He murmurs, "It’s not that simple, Ava," in a low, strained voice that sounds like he's struggling with something he can't seem to get rid of. "You wouldn’t understand."

His comments hurt me, and I can feel the weight of the unspoken rejection that lingers between us. I want to run to him and tell him that I always have and that I do understand. I'm aware that he won't believe me, though. Not in light of everything that has transpired.

My voice is a little more steady now, but every word hurts my heart. "I understand more than you think," I say. "Rogan, I know you're in pain. However, excluding me isn't the solution.

His shoulders are stiff as he shakes his head. "Ava, you have no idea what you're asking. You're unaware of my actions."

His words are heavy and full of secrets I'm not yet ready to hear, and they linger in the air. But I must know. I must comprehend. I want to know if there's any possibility that we could return to our previous state.

"What have you done?" I ask, hardly raising my voice above a whisper.

He doesn't respond for a second. With his back to me, he simply stands there as if he's debating whether to inform me or to permanently leave. It is intolerable to me.

I beg, "Rogan, please," my voice cracking. "I won't be leaving. You don't have to work alone on this.

At last, he turns, a mask of grief and rage covering his features. I can see the struggle going on inside of him as his eyes meet mine. He is unable to express what he wants to convey. Instead, his eyes soften slightly as he inhales deeply.

He whispers, "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me." "You wouldn’t understand."

I'm not sure how to respond to that. He might be correct. I might not comprehend. I don't care, though. All I want is for him to let me in.

I take another step forward and say, "Try me," my heart pounding as I go closer to him. "Please, Rogan. I'm present. I'd like to know. I must.

His eyes scan mine for a long time as if he's weighing whether or not I'm worth the discomfort of opening up to.

When he finally asks, "You want the truth?" his voice is low and full of an unidentified substance. "I'm not the man you believe me to be, in actuality. I wasn't. Furthermore, I don't deserve you.

I felt like I was slapped across the face by his remarks. My heart sinks to my gut as I freeze. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I open my mouth once more, but all I can produce is a tremulous breath.

"I don’t deserve you, Ava," Rogan says again, sorrow ringing in his voice. "I can never take back the things I've done. Things that will ruin everything we've ever owned.

I'm not sure how to react. When someone believes they are unworthy of your affection, how do you respond?

Even if my hands shake, I declare in a strong voice, "I don't care about your past." "You are important to me. who you are today. Rogan, you don't have to bear this alone. We can overcome it, whatever it is.

For the first time, I notice terror in his eyes as he takes a step back and shakes his head. He repeats, "You don’t understand," in an emotionally charged voice. "I've made decisions that cannot be reversed. Things that, if you stay, would destroy us."

I force myself to swallow, trying to process what he's said. What was there for him to do? What could possibly be so awful that he would be willing to leave me?

"Tell me," I mumble as I go in closer. "Rogan, tell me what you're scared of. I'd like to assist you.

His eyes are filled with pain as he looks at me, and for a split second, I think he's going to say whatever it is that has been bothering him. Instead, he looks aside, his face hardening once more as the barriers rise anew.

"I can’t," he replies again, his voice icy. "This is not something I can do. Not with you.

The pain surges through me like a tidal wave, shattering my heart. I know that screaming and pleading with him to stay won't make a difference. He has already decided.

"You’re making a mistake," I remark, my voice just a little bit louder than a whisper.

He doesn't turn around as he stops at the door, his hand on the handle. Perhaps. However, at this time, it's the only one I can make."

Then, without warning, he leaves.

The door behind him clicks shut, and I remain motionless. I feel like I'm drowning in the emptiness as it creeps in and suffocates me.

However, as the seconds pass, an idea enters my head that I find impossible to get rid of. What if he's correct? What if I'm only a passing diversion for him? What if, in the end, we have no future?

My fingers shaking, I grab my phone and start going through the missed calls and messages. There it is. I've been avoiding this one thing. Aria sent a message.

"I must speak with you. It has to do with Rogan.