No strings attached |(UNDER REVISION)

Chapter 30- Truth

And without another word, I walked away-leaving Adrian behind.

But as I reached my own car, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach.

Because I knew.

Someone had seen that kiss.

And soon...

Mikha would know.

My hands were shaking as I gripped the steering wheel.

I drove as fast as I could, my mind racing with a single thought-Mikha.

She was waiting for me. She prepared something for us. Our first monthsary.

And I was late.

Late because of a mistake.

I gritted my teeth, my heart pounding against my chest. I should've never answered Adrian's call. I should've never gotten in that damn car. I should've left the moment he started talking about feelings.

But I didn't.

And now, I was terrified of what was waiting for me.

When I finally reached Mikha's apartment, I hesitated before stepping out. I wiped my sweaty palms against my pants, took a deep breath, and walked towards the door.

I turned the knob-it was unlocked.

Slowly, I pushed it open.

And there she was.

Mikha.

Sitting alone at the beautifully set table, surrounded by soft fairy lights, a romantic dinner untouched in front of her.

My heart clenched.

She looked up, and the moment our eyes met, I felt something sharp twist inside me.

Her smile was soft-too soft. Almost like she was... pretending.

"Happy monthsary," she said, standing up and walking towards me.

I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, anything-but no words came out.

Mikha reached for my hand and squeezed it gently. "Let's eat, love," she whispered. "Just for tonight... please."

I wanted to explain.

I wanted to tell her everything.

That it was a mistake. That I didn't kiss him back. That I love her and only her.

But the way she looked at me...

Like she already knew.

Like she was holding herself together just to make it through the night.

So instead, I swallowed my guilt and nodded.

Because for tonight, if this was what Mikha needed-I'd give it to her.

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. I blinked, adjusting to the brightness, and turned my head-only to find Mikha sleeping on the couch.

Her body was curled up slightly, her arm tucked under her head. Her face, usually full of warmth and energy, looked so... tired.

My chest tightened.

I carefully sat up, watching her closely. Did she cry herself to sleep? I noticed the faint redness under her eyes, the way her breathing was uneven, as if she had been struggling with something even in her sleep.

Guilt twisted in my stomach.

I reached out hesitantly, my fingers grazing her cheek ever so gently. She stirred slightly but didn't wake up.