146

146

Sophia’s POV

I could feel my pulse quicken as I paced back and forth in our apartment, frustration boiling under my skin. Ian had been quiet for too long, too evasive, and I hated it. I wasn’t stupid. I knew something was going on, something he wasn’t telling me. And when Lyanna had shown up, looking like she’d been through hell, the truth hit me like a punch in the gut.

He knew. He had known she was missing.

The second Ian walked through the door, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My voice came out sharp, cutting through the air. “You knew Lyanna was kidnapped, and you didn’t tell me?”

Ian blinked, taken aback by my sudden accusation, his calm demeanor faltering for a second. “Sophia—”

“Don’t ‘Sophia’ me,” I interrupted, crossing my arms over my chest, feeling the anger pulse through me. “How could you keep something like that from me? She’s my friend. We’re supposed to be in this together.”

He closed the door behind him, his shoulders tense. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

I laughed bitterly, unable to believe what I was hearing. “Worry me? Ian, Lyanna was kidnapped, and you didn’t think I had a right to know?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to stay calm. “It wasn’t that simple.”

“Then explain it to me!” I snapped, my voice rising. “Because right now, it feels like you’re just deciding what I can and can’t handle, and that’s not okay.”

Ian’s eyes darkened as he stepped closer, his jaw clenched. “I was trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. “I’m not a fragile little human anymore, Ian! I can handle things, I deserve to know what’s going on. Hiding things from me isn’t protecting me—it’s controlling me.”

The tension in the room was thick, suffocating, as we stared at each other, both too angry to back down. Ian’s face was hard, unreadable, but I could see the frustration flickering in his eyes.

“I wasn’t trying to control you,” he said through gritted teeth. “I was trying to keep you safe. You’ve been through enough already.”

“And what about Lyanna?” I shot back. “She was out there, being tortured, while you kept me in the dark.”

“I had people looking for her—”

“You should have told me!” My voice cracked, and I hated how vulnerable I felt in that moment. This wasn’t just about Lyanna. It was about trust. It was about the fact that Ian still saw me as someone who needed to be shielded from the truth, someone he couldn’t fully trust with the reality of our lives.

He looked away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I didn’t want you to worry,” he repeated, softer this time.

“That’s not your decision to make, Ian,” I said, my voice trembling with the intensity of my emotions. “You don’t get to decide what I can handle. We’re supposed to be partners, but how can we be if you keep things from me?”

Silence hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the battle between his desire to protect me and the realization that he’d crossed a line. He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as if the weight of my words was finally sinking in.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice laced with regret. “You’re right. I should’ve told you.”

The sincerity in his apology caught me off guard, and for a moment, my anger wavered. But the hurt was still there, deep and raw. I turned away from him, trying to gather my thoughts, trying to make sense of the storm of emotions swirling inside me.

“I just… I don’t understand why you couldn’t trust me with this,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

Ian stepped closer, his presence a steady force behind me, but he didn’t touch me. “It wasn’t about trust, Sophia. I trust you more than anyone. I was just afraid. Afraid that if you knew, you’d get too involved, and then… something could happen to you.”

I turned around to face him, my eyes locking onto his. “Something could happen to me? Ian, something is always happening to us. We’re in the middle of a war, we’re constantly being attacked, and now we’re bringing a child into all of this. Hiding things from me isn’t going to stop any of that.”

His expression softened, a mixture of guilt and pain flashing in his eyes. “I know. I know it’s not rational. But I can’t help it. The thought of losing you… it drives me insane.”

His words hit me like a punch to the chest, and the anger that had been fueling me began to crumble. I understood his fear. I understood that he was trying to protect me in the only way he knew how. But that didn’t make it right.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, my voice softer now, the fight slowly draining out of me. “But I need you to be honest with me, Ian. I need to know that you’ll trust me enough to tell me what’s going on, even if it scares you. Especially if it scares you.”

He exhaled slowly, his eyes filled with the weight of everything he wasn’t saying. “I promise, Sophia. No more secrets.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust that things would change, that he would stop trying to shoulder everything on his own. But part of me was still wary, still afraid that this would happen again.

“I’m holding you to that,” I said, my voice firm, though the edge of my anger had softened.

He nodded, taking a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch my arm. “I know I’ve messed up, but I’m trying. I’m just… trying to keep you safe.”

I looked up at him, searching his eyes for the truth, for the vulnerability I knew he rarely showed anyone. And there it was, raw and unguarded. He was scared, just like I was. Scared of losing me, scared of what the future held, scared of everything that was out of our control.

“I don’t need you to keep me safe,” I said quietly, resting my hand on his chest. “I just need you to be with me. To trust me.”

His hand came up to cover mine, and for the first time in what felt like hours, the tension between us began to ease. “I’ll try,” he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity. “I’ll do better.”

I leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body ground me, letting go of some of the anger and frustration that had been building inside me. This was what I needed—his honesty, his willingness to admit that he wasn’t perfect, that he was afraid too.

“I love you,” I whispered, feeling the words settle between us like a quiet truth.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, his lips brushing against the top of my head. “I love you too. More than anything.”