STRINGS BETWEEN US

CHAPTER OF FIFTY-FOUR: MASKS, MOONLIGHT, AND THE PRESIDENT WHO STILL LOOKED BACK

Elle.

I hadn't heard that name in months. That was me. The girl who used to answer without thinking. The version of me that still believed Xythe Nathaniel Alcantara would always stay.

I didn't correct him.

Couldn't.

Not when it still sounded like safety in his mouth.

He looked at me-not like a tactician. Not like a ghost. Like someone who finally understood what it meant to break something and have to live with the silence after.

"I owe you an apology," he said.

I swallowed. "I ghosted everyone, Xythe."

My voice came out smaller than I meant. "You don't have to-"

"Still. You deserved better than silence."

Funny how kindness could hurt more than cruelty. I'd built entire walls around the version of me that was left behind.

But maybe those walls weren't to keep him out. Maybe they were to keep the truth in.

I looked at him, really looked. Not the suit. Not the mask. Him.

"You were growing-fighting your own battles, finding your voice. And I realized..."

He looked down, jaw tight.
"I was still holding on to the version of you that needed me to save her."

He had always been the storm. And I, the girl caught in it. But maybe I wasn't drowning anymore. Maybe I had learned how to breathe in my own chaos.

"But you didn't need saving anymore. You were becoming something more. And I-I didn't want to be the reason you held back."

The words hit like truth always does-quietly, but with nowhere to hide.

"I chose the Court. I chose the war. I chose to protect you from a distance... because if I stayed, I would've chosen you over everything."

His voice softened.

"You called me your storm... but I wanted you to know what it felt like to be loved by the sun. Even if it wasn't me."

And that... that broke me.

I used to think I wasn't enough for him.
Too much fire. Too much work.

But maybe... I was just becoming too bright for him to shadow.

I turned away, eyes stinging.

"I hated you for leaving," I whispered. "But I hated myself more for never asking why."

All this time, I'd carried the ache like a secret. Like a grudge dressed as strength. But now I could finally name it. It was grief.
It was loss. It was love that didn't know where to go anymore.

A beat passed.

"You hurt me."

He nodded. Quiet. "I know. And I'll carry that."

And maybe that's what forgiveness really was. Not forgetting. Just knowing someone was willing to hold the weight of what they broke.

And before I could stop myself, the question tumbled out.

"Why didn't I hear your pulse that time?"

The one time I needed to. The one time I should have. He stilled. A breath. A beat.

"I had to sever my fracture lens," he said quietly. "Just for that time."

"Keryn helped. She made it hold for forty-eight hours."

Forty-eight hours. A full cycle without the thread. Without the echo of him in my bones.

And I hadn't even known.

"I didn't want you to feel me unraveling," he added, softer now. "Didn't want you to hear what it sounded like when I couldn't hold it together."

The Pulse Link wasn't just a tool. Not for the Tri-Havoc. It was our tether. Our thread. Our heartbeat in triplicate.

And he had turned it off.

So I wouldn't know how much it broke him to let go.

"I didn't want you to reach for me," he said, "and find nothing left."

And just like that, I understood.
He wasn't trying to vanish.

He was trying not to take me with him.

"I didn't leave because I stopped loving you, Elle.
I left because I still did."

His voice quieted-but not his eyes.

"If you're still wearing your Heartbeat Pinky Ring..."
He hesitated.
"You'll hear it. Even now."

My chest tightened.

I said nothing. But the words sank deeper than I wanted.

The Heartbeat Pinky Ring wasn't just jewelry. It was a core node of the Tri-Havoc Pulse Link. Forged when we were ten.
Tuned to only two other pulses in the world.

Xythe.
Saichel.

I hadn't used it in months. I took it off after the breakup. But I brought it with me when I left Celestine.

And now, for the first time...I wondered what I would hear if I wore it again.

He turned slightly, glancing back toward the music and stars and swirling light of the party we'd left behind.

"Go find him, Elle."

My chest twisted. He still called me that. But for the first time... it didn't pull me backward. It let me go. I smiled. Softly. Honestly.

Then turned toward the lights. Toward the boy with constellations on his shoulders and a snowflake at his throat.

And this time...

I didn't hesitate.