Chapter 128: 128 ~ Mira
Relief flooded my veins when his lips latched onto mine. I had missed him so much even when we were in the same space.
Every time he turned away from me, every night we slept in separate rooms, I felt the cracks widening. But now, in his arms, the world stilled.
My fingers clutched at his shirt like he was the only thing keeping me from drowning. The taste of smoke lingered on his lips, bitter and sharp, but underneath it was him... the man who burned through me in ways I couldn’t deny.
I kissed him harder, pouring every ache, every sleepless night into it. Maybe if I pressed close enough, I could melt the walls he kept putting between us.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine. His breathing was ragged, his voice lower, vulnerable in a way he never showed anyone but me.
"Mira..." he whispered, and the sound of my name was like he broken, almost pleading. It twisted something deep inside me.
I wanted to tell him everything. That I hated when he disappeared, that I hated this cold war he fought from behind closed doors. That I was terrified of the shadows creeping closer, the whispers I caught when he thought I wasn’t listening. But the words stuck in my throat, because if I pushed too hard, he would shut me out again.
So I did the only thing I could. I smoothed my palms over his jaw, forcing him to meet my gaze. "Don’t push me away again, Jace. I can’t... I can’t take it."
His jaw clenched, as if he was fighting himself. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then his arms tightened around me, crushing, desperate.
"I won’t," he muttered against my hair. "Not tonight."
It should’ve been enough. It should’ve calmed the storm inside me. But the truth was, it only fed my fear. Because I knew him. Jace Romano did not promise forever — only tonight.
And I wanted more.
He held my hand as we walked upstairs to his bedroom.
When he finally let me go, he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving me standing in the middle of the bedroom with my pulse racing and my lips swollen from his kiss. I heard the rush of the shower, steady and relentless, almost mocking the silence between us.
I sat on the edge of the bed, twisting my fingers together. My chest still carried the warmth of his embrace, but beneath it was an ache I couldn’t shake. Something was wrong. Jace wasn’t a man who hid easily. His temper, his arrogance, his need to control... those things were always loud, impossible to ignore. But this? This quiet distance, these shadows he cloaked himself in... they scared me more than his rage ever could.
By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling around him and water dripping down his chest, I had already decided I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. He dragged a towel over his hair, not even looking at me as he moved to the closet.
"Jace," I said softly.
He froze for a fraction of a second, then kept moving. "What is it, Mira?"
"That’s what I want to know," I whispered. "What is it? What’s going on with you?"
His back was to me, broad and tense. He didn’t answer right away. He pulled on black sweatpants, his movements were deliberate amd controlled. Only when he turned did I see the flicker in his eyes. It not anger, not indifference, but something heavier.
"I told you already," he said. "I’m busy. Handling things."
"Handling things," I repeated, the words tasting like acid. "That’s all you ever tell me. Do you realize how it feels? You leave, you don’t take my calls, you come home reeking of smoke and shadows, and then you shut me out like I’m some stranger who doesn’t deserve to know what’s going on in her own home."
Home...
Months ago I would have spat acid if he called us a married couple and now I was calling his house my home. It was crazy.
His jaw tightened. "It’s not like that."
"Then tell me what it’s like!" My voice cracked, but I couldn’t stop. "Why won’t you trust me, Jace? Why won’t you let me in?"
He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his damp hair. For the first time, I saw him hesitate. Jace Romano, the man who faced down killers without blinking, looked... uncertain.
"It’s not about trust," he said finally, his voice low. "It’s about protection. The less you know, the safer you are."
I stared at him, my heart shattering with every beat. "Do you even hear yourself? Safer? Jace, I married you. I may not have chosen this life, this name, this danger but I’m here now. You think keeping secrets is protection, but it’s not. It’s distance. And it’s killing us."
His eyes softened for a split second, but then the mask slid back into place. "You don’t understand—"
"You’re right," I cut in, tears burning hot at the corners of my eyes. "I don’t understand. Because you won’t let me."
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. He looked at me as though he wanted to speak, as though the truth was clawing its way up his throat. But then he swallowed it back, locking it away behind those walls I couldn’t climb.
That hurt more than any shouted argument, more than any cruel word. Because it meant he didn’t trust me with his truth.
I turned away, lying down on the bed with my back to him. My chest trembled as I tried to keep the tears quiet.
For a moment, I thought he’d leave me there in silence. But then the mattress dipped under his weight, and his hand slid tentatively across my waist, pulling me back into him. His warmth pressed against my spine, his breath heavy at the curve of my neck.
"I don’t want to lose you," he whispered into my hair.
The words should have soothed me, but instead they hollowed me out. Because how could he lose me, when he wouldn’t even let me be his?
It was obvious he didn’t trust me anymore after that stunt with Massimo. He could lie to me all he wanted but I had come to terms with the fact that my husband didn’t love me.
~
He was gone before I woke up the next morning. Again.
I let out an exasperated breath as I found my way to the kitchen. Maybe baking would help me focus.
I rummaged through the cabinets until I found the flour and sugar. The clatter of bowls against marble echoed louder than it should have in the empty house. I tied my hair back, determined not to let the ache in my chest win. If Jace could bury himself in his secrets, then I would bury myself in dough and buttercream.
As I cracked the eggs into the bowl, the silence pressed down on me. Usually, silence with him wasn’t unbearable. And sometimes it even felt like home. But this? This was abandonment wrapped in quiet. It was the kind of silence that said: You’re not enough to stay for.
I was sick an tired of it all. v
My hands moved on their own, kneading, mixing, measuring, but my mind refused to still. It chased him. Where he went. Who he met. What danger he thought was too much to share with me.
By the time I slid the tray of pastries into the oven, my throat was raw with words I hadn’t spoken. I leaned on the counter, glaring at the faint glow of the oven light.
"The ding of my phone made me jump. My heart skipped, hoping it was him. But it wasn’t. It was from Massimo. His message short and sharp as always: We need to talk. Meet me at the gallery.
My stomach twisted. I read the words again and again, hoping I haf imagined them. But they stayed, bold and poisonous, glowing back at me.
I knew it was stupid to even consider it. He was dangerous. He always had been. Jace would skin me alive if he even suspected Massimo was still reaching me. And yet my thumb hovered over the screen, as I considered it.
What if I could pretend to be allies with Massimo so I could help Jace in the long run? It sounded like a good plan.
I stared at the message until my eyes blurred. Minutes slipped by, the pastries forgotten in the oven. My chest rose and fell like I was standing at the edge of a cliff and someone dared me to jump.
Going to him wasn’t safe. But not going left me with questions clawing at my insides.
I pressed the phone to my chest as I closed my eyes, torn between fear and curiosity. Between loyalty and the aching need to know what exactly was going on.
This was a mess.