The days that followed felt like a slow burn—quiet moments spent together that only seemed to highlight the distance between Aidi and Hetri. He no longer tried to force his way into her space, no longer made those small gestures of kindness that used to frustrate her. Instead, he allowed the silence to settle between them, as if he knew she needed time.
Aidi had been moving through each day with a sort of robotic determination, keeping herself busy, keeping her thoughts away from the things she didn't want to confront. But no matter how much she tried, she couldn't escape the growing awareness of Hetri, of how his presence had shifted from something oppressive to something... softer. And she hated that she couldn't ignore it.
Today, she found herself standing at the edge of the garden again, the cool breeze ruffling her hair, the scent of earth and fresh grass heavy in the air. The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting long shadows that stretched across the land. She tried to breathe deeply, to focus on the small things—on the sounds of the wind, on the rustling of the trees—but her mind kept circling back to Hetri.
She didn't want to care. She couldn't afford to care.
But she did.
"Aidi?"
Her heart skipped at the sound of his voice. She turned, her breath catching as she saw Hetri standing by the doorway of the house, his figure outlined by the fading light of the day. He looked different—softer, somehow. Less like the person she used to see as a threat, more like someone she might actually... trust?
No. She couldn't think like that.
"I didn't expect you to still be out here," he said, stepping closer, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. "Is everything okay?"
Aidi stiffened at the question, at the fact that he seemed to care. She shook her head slightly, taking a step back. "I'm fine. Just thinking."
"Thinking about what?" Hetri asked, his voice gentle but curious. He wasn't pushing her, not the way he used to. He seemed to understand the boundaries she'd set.
"I don't know," she said, her voice sounding flat even to herself. "Everything. The things you said before, the things I don't want to deal with."
"I don't want to pressure you," Hetri replied quietly, his eyes searching hers. "But I don't want you to keep pushing me away, either."
Aidi clenched her fists at her sides, the frustration bubbling up inside her. "I'm not pushing you away," she snapped, though the words felt hollow. "I'm just trying to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do with you."
He took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "I don't expect you to have it all figured out. But if you're willing to give me a chance—just a real one—then we can take it slow. No pressure."
Aidi stared at him, her heart pounding. "And what if I don't want to? What if I don't want to let anyone in? Not you, not anyone."
"You don't have to," Hetri said softly, stepping even closer now. "But I can't just ignore the fact that you're someone I've come to care about. And I know it's not easy, but I'm asking you to let me in a little. Just enough to see if there's something between us that's worth fighting for."
His words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning, and for a moment, Aidi didn't know how to respond. She should have pushed him away. She should have told him to stop, to leave her alone. But something in his eyes—the sincerity, the vulnerability—made it harder than it had ever been to do that.
"Why do you care?" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "You've hurt me. You've hurt so many people. So why now?"
Hetri's expression softened, and he reached out, his hand hesitating in the air between them as if unsure of how far to go. "I was wrong. I can't take back what I've done, but I want to make it right. I can't just keep pretending I don't care about you. You mean more to me than I ever thought you would."
Aidi didn't know what to say. She had spent so much of her life building walls, keeping people at a distance, and now this man—this person she had hated, feared, and trusted in equal measure—was standing here, offering something she hadn't expected: honesty.
For the first time in a long while, Aidi felt the walls she had built around her heart start to crack, just a little.
"I don't know how to believe you," she said, her voice small. "I don't know how to trust you."
"You don't have to believe everything right away," Hetri said softly, his voice low and patient. "I'll earn it. All I'm asking is for a chance to try."
Aidi felt something shift inside her, a pull she couldn't explain. It was terrifying, the idea of letting herself open up again, of allowing someone else in. But for the first time in so long, she felt a flicker of hope, a possibility that maybe, just maybe, they could make it work.
"I'm not promising anything," Aidi said, her voice steady despite the chaos in her chest. "But... I'll try. I'll try to trust you."
Hetri smiled then, a small, genuine smile that made Aidi's heart stutter in her chest. "That's all I'm asking."
They stood there for a moment, the world around them fading as they both took in the significance of what had just passed between them. There was still so much unspoken, so much left to figure out, but for the first time, Aidi felt like they were standing on the same ground.
It was a small step. But it was a step forward.
And that was enough.