RedNovelChapter 283: Runner Nova's POV My hands curled into tight fists at my sides, anger boiling inside me. How could Michael assI hadn't fought for Drystan? How could he stand there and accuseof running away when he had no clue what I had been through? "You don't understand, Michael," I snapped, my voice trembling with a mix of frustration and grief. "I did confess my feelings to him. I put my heart on the line, and you know what happened? He rejected me," my voice wavered. "Don't you realize how humiliating that was? To bear my soul, only to be turned away?" I saw guilt flicker across his face as my words hit home.
"Drystan made it painfully clear that I'd never be more than a friend. And now, you're standing here, tellingto go through that again? To relive that pain? Why? So I can watch him choose Astrid overagain?" I saw a change in Michael's expression-a hint of regret, maybe, but he didn't back down. "That was three years ago, Nova. People change. What if Drystan feels differently now?" I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. I refused to fall into that trap again. "It doesn't matter, Michael. I could confess a thousand times, and it would always end the same. He will always choose Astrid." She's everything I'm not, and I'm done pretending I have a chance." My voice broke as I shoved more clothes into my bag, the finality of my words echoing in the silence.
Michael sighed, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident. But when he spoke again, his tone was gentler. "But what if you're wrong? What if he has changed?" I sighed in exasperation, feeling my patience wear thin. I had already said my piece; why couldn't he just let it go? "I've seen the way he looks at you, Nova. You think I haven't noticed? The way his eyes linger when you're not looking, the way his jaw tightens whenever he sees us together, like he's... jealous." I scoffed, shaking my head. "He seesas his little sister, Michael. It's nothing more than that." He's just being protective, fulfilling spromise he made to my sister. It's not romantic, no matter what you think." The words stung, a harsh truth I had cto accept after so much heartache.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Maybe that was true before, but this is different," Michael insisted, his gaze piercing. "I'm a guy, Nova. I know what it looks like when a man is in love." His words hitlike a blow to the chest, stirring a flicker of hope that I quickly smothered. Could Drystan have changed? No, I couldn't let myself believe it. I refused to be that foolish again.
I tightened my grip on the bag's strap, willing myself to keep breathing. "Even if you're right, it changes nothing," I whispered, my voice barely steady. "I've made up my mind, Michael. I can't keep hurting myself like this." With that, I zipped up my bag and slung it over my shoulder, my heart pounding in my chest. "Grab your things. We're leaving," I muttered before brushing past him and walking out of the room, each step feeling heavier than the last.
**************** Michael moved with a hesitation that I felt in my bones. He picked up his bag and walked to the car, glancing ata few times as if searching for one last opening to change my mind. But I avoided his eyes, focusing instead on loading my luggage into the back, The silence between us was thick, suffocating, but I didn't have the energy to break it. I had already said all I needed to say.
He placed his bag beside mine, pausing for a second before finally shutting the trunk. I caught a glimpse of the conflict on his face- he didn't want to leave, didn't wantto leave - but he knew arguing would only pushfurther away.
I climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door a bit too hard. Michael got behind the wheel, still glancing at me, but he said nothing.
The engine roared to life, and just like that, we were off. My heart squeezed painfully as we pulled away from the place I had called hfor so long.
I refused to look back, keeping my eyes fixed on the road ahead as the pack house disappeared in the rearview mirror.
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The car was eerily silent. No music played, no idle chatter filled the space. Only the bun of the engine and the rhythmic clatter of the tires against the road broke through the quiet.
Michael kept his hands on the wheel, his jaw set tight, eyes focused on the road. He didn't try to speak, didn't didn'th pushfor more explanations. He NO simply drove, respecting the boundary I had drawn between us. I stole a glance at him out of the corner of my eye. His face was set in a mixture of determination and reluctance. He was angry, sad, frustrated-everything I was but couldn't express. His grip tightened on the wheel, knuckles turning white.
The silence was suffocating. Every passing mile felt like a piece of my heart being stripped away, leavinghollow.
I crossed my arms over my chest, pressing down on the ache that threatened to consme.
Finally, I understood his words. I now understand why he toldthose C things. I was indeed running away from everything that is why I have this heavy feeling inside my chest
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