---
They sat there for a while, not saying a word to each other—just soaking in the silence. The sky had darkened completely, stars beginning to peek through the inky veil above. Without a word, they both stood and started heading back inside, the quiet still lingering between them like an invisible fog.
"You know," Theron said, finally breaking the silence, "you don't have to think about what other people say about you."
Egwene paused for a second before replying, her voice low. "I know that. But... it still feels like I'm doing something wrong. Like I'm not enough, or I'm not doing it right."
"Don't tell yourself that," he said, gently but firmly. "You did nothing wrong. You made a choice. That's more than most people do."
---
Egwene looked at him, her eyes searching his face for something—maybe understanding, maybe reassurance.
"But what if that choice leads to everything falling apart?" she whispered. "What if I lose everything because of it?"
Theron stopped walking. The porch light cast a soft glow over his face, making the shadows beneath his eyes look deeper, more thoughtful.
"Then you build again," he said. "From the pieces, if you have to. But you keep going. You don't stop living because things didn't turn out perfect."
She let out a shaky breath, the weight on her chest easing just slightly.
"You make it sound so easy."
"It's not. Trust me, I know it's not." His voice dropped lower. "But I also know you're stronger than you think."
For a moment, she didn't say anything. Then slowly, she nodded.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Theron offered a small smile. "Anytime."
They stepped through the doorway together, the silence no longer heavy—just quiet, like the space between two heartbeats.
---
Theron sat back down, elbows on his knees, eyes still on Egwene. The silence between them had shifted—no longer heavy, but electric. Something unspoken hovered in the air, and Egwene could feel it pressing against her chest.
"I mean it," Theron said quietly. "You don't have to carry it all alone anymore."
Egwene met his eyes, and just for a second, she let herself breathe—let herself feel safe.
That's when the door burst open.
Aaron stood in the entrance of the dimly lit room, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides. His gaze landed on them—on how close they were, the softness in their eyes—and something inside him snapped.
"You've got to be kidding me," he said, his voice low, shaking with fury. "So it's true. You really did spend the night in his room."
Egwene's eyes widened. "Aaron—"
"No," he barked, stepping forward. "Don't. I knew something was off. The way he always hovers around you like a damn guard dog. The way you look at him like he's the only one who matters."
"Aaron, stop—" she tried again.
"I've been here since day one!" he shouted. "I've protected you, watched over you, cared about you. And you just—what? Crawl into his bed the first chance you get?"
Theron stood slowly, the look in his eyes cold now. "You don't get to talk to her like that."
Aaron's glare turned on him. "Of course you'd defend her. You've been playing the long game, haven't you? Watching me, waiting for your moment. You're a damn coward."
Theron stepped closer. "Say that again."
"You heard me."
Egwene moved between them, panic in her voice. "Both of you, stop it—"
But Aaron threw the first punch before she could finish.
It hit Theron across the jaw, but he barely flinched. He shoved Aaron back, and the two of them collided with the metal shelves, sending old supplies crashing to the floor.
"Stop!" Egwene screamed, but neither man listened.
Fists flew. Grunts echoed off the concrete walls. It was raw and brutal, fueled by jealousy, betrayal, and weeks of unspoken tension.
Theron slammed Aaron against the wall. "She's not yours!"
"You think she wants you?" Aaron growled, swinging again. "You're nothing but a broken stray—"
"Enough!" Egwene's voice rang out like a gunshot.
Both men froze, breathing heavily, blood on their knuckles.
Egwene's chest rose and fell, her eyes wild but unwavering.
"I'm not a prize for either of you to fight over," she said, her voice trembling but firm. "But since we're saying things out loud tonight... maybe it's time I say mine."
She turned to Aaron, eyes soft with sadness. "I care about you. I always will. But I don't love you, Aaron. I never have."
He stared at her, as if the words physically struck him.
"I'm in love with Theron," she said clearly.
Silence.
Aaron stepped back, his shoulders shaking—not with anger now, but something quieter. Something broken.
He didn't say another word. Just turned, opened the door, and walked out.
The sound of the metal door shutting echoed like a final sentence.
Egwene stood there, breathless, caught between relief and sorrow. Theron looked at her, eyes searching hers—not triumphant, not smug. Just... there.
She finally turned to him. "I'm sorry you got pulled into that."
He shook his head, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. "I'm not."
---