(Azaria's Point of View)
I walk into my quarters, my heart still pounding from the confrontation with Ethan. I try to steady my breath, but the tension in my body remains as taut as a drawn bowstring. The air in the room feels heavy, almost suffocating, as I close the door behind me. Stephanie is pacing back and forth beside the bed, her movements erratic, like a caged animal searching for a way out. She freezes when she hears the click of the door, her eyes snapping to mine, wide and filled with a mix of confusion and anger.
"What the hell was that?" Stephanie's voice trembles as she speaks, her frustration palpable. I can see the turmoil in her eyes, a storm of emotions swirling just beneath the surface.
I sigh deeply, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. I walk over to the dresser and begin to lay out some sleeping clothes, trying to find a sense of normalcy in the mundane task. "My way out," I say calmly, my voice steady despite the chaos inside me. "I told you-- you would have to make a choice."
I hear the sudden halt in her steps behind me, the sound of her breath catching in her throat. "That was not me making a choice!" she snaps, her voice rising with frustration. I turn around to see her standing directly in front of me now, her face flushed with anger, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
"Your right, it wasn't," I agree, meeting her gaze with a calm intensity. "It was just your final push."
Her face contorts with irritation, her brows knitting together as she struggles to understand. "Well, Azi, what the hell does that mean for me? For us? Like, I'm really not ready for this. Did you even consider the position this would put me in, and how I would feel?" Her words hit me like a physical blow, each one a sharp reminder of the complexities of our situation.
I can see the hurt in her eyes, the betrayal she feels at being thrust into this decision. Her pain mirrors my own, a reflection of the choices that have led us to this point. I take a deep breath, knowing I need to speak my truth, no matter how difficult it might be.
"Steph, what does this mean for us?" I ask, my voice trembling with a mix of anger, hurt, and desperation. "It means that I've sacrificed everything to force Ethan's hand. This was my only way to get him to release me. But you—you've been playing both sides. Every time you are with him, it's like cyanide and wolfsbane from a chalice, slowly killing me from the inside. You've had almost a month to end this with either him or me, yet you chose to stay with both."
I pause, trying to steady my breathing, my emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "Now, you need to decide. Are you going to be the Luna, standing by his side, or will you run with me, into the unknown? Because I can't keep this up. I can't keep feeling like I'm losing you every day. I need to know if you're truly mine or if I had truly lost you to him before I ever had a chance to have you."
As I finish speaking, I feel a weight lift off my chest, the burden of my emotions finally laid bare. I lean in and kiss her forehead, a gesture of both affection and farewell, before turning away to head to the bathroom. I hear her soft sobs as I close the door behind me, the sound echoing in my ears as I step into the shower.
The hot water cascades over me, washing away the tension in my muscles, but it does little to soothe the ache in my heart. I lean against the cool tile, closing my eyes as the water streams down my face, mingling with the tears I hadn't realized I was shedding. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, the events of the night playing on a loop in my head.
By the time I finish my shower and return to the bedroom, Stephanie is gone. The emptiness of the room feels like a physical presence, pressing in on me from all sides. I can still feel the lingering warmth of her presence, the faint scent of vanilla and almonds that always seems to cling to her like a second skin. My heart aches at the thought that she might choose to stay with Ethan, that I might actually lose her before I ever truly had her.
I lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, my mind racing with a thousand different scenarios. I know that as long as Ethan asks for a divorce, I don't care what justification he uses. I will not object. I have to keep my calm, no matter what. Any protest would seem as if I want to stay in the marriage, and that is the last thing I want.
Hours pass as I lie there, my thoughts spiraling in endless circles. Eventually, exhaustion takes over, and I drift off into a restless sleep, my dreams filled with shadows and whispers of what could have been.