Sweet Hatred-Chapter 249: Before it’s too late

He looked up the second I stepped through the door.

Sat at a table in the corner, pressed against the glass like he needed to stay half-outside.

Dark blazer. Wrinkled white shirt. No tie.

Like he tried to look presentable but gave up halfway.

His hair was grayer than I remembered, though his face still held the same harsh structure mine did.

Sharp jaw. Straight nose.

Even the exact same eyes.

God, those eyes.

Ashen brown with a strange ring of gold around the irises, like rust caught in sunlight.

I used to think they looked like fire.

Like the warning before a building goes up in flames.

But now... they just looked dim.

Tired.

His whole face lit up for a brief second when he saw me.

A kind of soft shock. Like he’d somehow convinced himself I wouldn’t show.

And I wanted to look away.

To flinch.

But I didn’t.

I glared at him instead.

Hard.

Let him feel the weight of every year he abandoned us.

I walked over.

Sat across from him.

Didn’t take off my coat.

"Say what you have to say," I said flatly.

He swallowed. His hands folded on the table like he needed something to hold. "Aria..."

"Don’t."

He shut his mouth for a moment.

Then, he sighed. A long, broken sound.

"I’m not here to apologize again," he said. "I know I’ve lost the right to do that. I just..."

His voice shook slightly.

"I just wish things were different. I wish I didn’t let... whatever poison was inside me, whatever anger, destroy the things that mattered. Your mother. You. Olivia."

"Wow," I muttered. "You practiced that speech or winging it?"

He flinched.

I stood halfway from my chair. "This was a mistake."

"No—Aria, please."

His voice cracked. And that? That made my chest ache.

Not pity.

Not forgiveness.

Just the dull, suffocating pressure of old wounds opening again.

"I’m not asking for anything from you," he said quickly, eyes darting like he was afraid someone else was listening. "I just... I need you to talk to your sister."

I narrowed my eyes. "What?"

"She’s not okay," he said. "Even if she pretends to be. Those kids... Kaleb and Lily. They need you. Even if she doesn’t say it."

I sat back down slowly.

My stomach twisted.

"Is this supposed to be your redemption arc?" I asked. "Sending me to patch up the family you blew apart?"

"No," he said. His hands gripped tighter. "No, this isn’t manipulation. I swear it’s not. I just, I just want to fix it while I still can. Before it’s too late."

He leaned forward, voice almost trembling now.

"I need you to be there for her. Please, Aria. Promise me. Just this once."

I stared at him. And then

"It doesn’t matter what you say, I will always protect Olivia. Even when she hates me, especially then." I replied calmly.

The wrinkles in his brows creased as he smiled gently. It would have been a warm sight if I wasn’t drowning in my own hate.

"Besides... Shouldn’t you be happy?" I continued. "That she chose you over me." I leaned closer. "I was expecting you to be more ecstatic but now you sound almost like you’re already tired of having the family you want again."

He stared at me, mouth lately open and frozen in place. And then,

"You may not have any space left for me in your heart Aria, but please... please know that you’re the one I’m sorry to the most. And I have never stopped loving you."

And for a moment... just a moment... I could almost believe him.

He didn’t look like the man who used to scream until I went numb. He didn’t sound like the man who called our grief an inconvenience. He just looked like an old man who had too many regrets and not enough time left to bury them.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t let myself believe it.

Because if he’d truly changed...

If he was actually good now...

Then what the hell was I supposed to do with all this pain?

The tears didn’t come.

They never came.

But my chest ached like someone had twisted their fist inside it.

Without a word, I stood up again.

And this time, I didn’t look back.

The second the door hit behind me, the air outside slapped my face.

Colder than I expected.

My chest was a minefield, tight, aching, full of glass that wouldn’t break.

I didn’t know where I was going. I just needed to move. I needed to breathe.

I barely made it down the steps before someone grabbed me, firm, warm, steady.

Sylas.

He didn’t speak, didn’t ask any silly questions, he just pulled me into him.

One arm wrapped low around my waist, the other sliding up my back to cradle the base of my throbbing head. My face collided with his chest, broad, solid, and rising with slow, patient breaths.

I froze.

Completely.

My arms stayed limp at my sides, and my jaw clenched as I tried to push the heat back down my throat.

"Aria..." he whispered, his lips grazing the top of my head. "It’s okay. Just breathe."

His fingers threaded into my hair, stroking gently.

The tremble started in my hands first. Then my shoulders.

I still wasn’t breathing right. It felt like my lungs were folding inward, like everything inside me was shrinking into a dark, tiny corner I didn’t know how to escape.

But he didn’t let go.

Not even for a second.

His arms tightened around me and his palm moved in slow circles against my spine, like he was trying to press all the broken pieces back into place.

"It’s okay sad girl," he murmured again, closer this time, voice dipping near my ear. "You’re okay. I’ve got you."

And still, I didn’t hug him back.

I couldn’t.

But then I felt his chest against mine, slow, calming, grounding. I felt the weight of his arm around my hips pulling me in, holding me there. Not too tight. Just enough to say I’m not letting go unless you ask me to.

So I broke.

Silently.

Quietly.

I let my arms rise, slow, heavy, uncertain, and wrap around his back. My fists clenched into the fabric of his jacket.

I pressed my face into the crook of his neck.

And I breathed

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