Tasha’s POV

The moment Roman sat beside me, I stiffened. My eyes instantly darted to the wall, anywhere but at him. The silence between us was too heavy, too awkward, like air thick with old pain and half-buried memories. He sighed softly, his voice low and tired.

“Can it not be awkward, Tasha? Just… like we were before. Before all this. Can you see me as your best friend for just some minutes?”

His tone—gentle, almost pleading—made something twist in my chest. Against my will, I turned my head. His face was a mess—split lip, one cheek swollen and bruised from Jeremy’s punch, yet still somehow carrying that stupid calmness he always had after every fight. Normally, I’d have laughed at how ridiculous he looked, maybe even teased him. But not today. Not when my heart felt like it had been dragged across glass.

Roman and I… we used to be inseparable. I remembered the boy who’d shared his lunch with me when I forgot mine, who’d walked me home under the rain, who’d made me feel safe even when we had nothing. That safety was what I fell for in my past life. I was the one who chased him, the one who believed he was kind until he became the man who killed me. Even now, the thought sent a chill down my spine. But sitting here, seeing him bruised and trying, I couldn’t ignore the ache in my chest.

I didn’t say anything—just gave him a tiny nod. His lips lifted slightly, like he’d been waiting for that one sign. Then, slowly, he reached out and patted my head, his touch so careful, as if afraid I’d break. He guided me gently, placing my head against his shoulder. I didn’t fight it. I didn’t have the strength to. My tears had dried hours ago, but inside, everything still hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It isn’t your fault,” I murmured without thinking.

“I know,” he said after a long pause. “And I won’t ask what’s wrong… not unless you want to tell me. But I need to apologize. I’ve been a jerk to you these past three years. I didn’t realize when I started hurting you, when I started becoming… this. I hate it, Tasha. I hate who I am now. I know I already lost you, but please… don’t throw away our friendship.”

I slowly raised my head, searching his face. There was something raw in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen in years—regret. Real regret. A single tear slid down his cheek, and even though he tried to smile through it, I could see how much he was breaking inside.

I gave him a faint, wobbly smile. “You want to play swimming fight?”

He blinked, taken aback, before his lips curved into that old, crooked grin I used to know. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

He stood and offered his hand to me, pulling me up like we were kids again. “Go change into your swimsuit,” he said softly. “I’ll go get mine.”

I nodded, and he turned toward the door. But then, just before he stepped out, he froze. Without a word, he turned back and suddenly pulled me into a hug—tight, almost desperate. I gasped.

“Roman—you’re strangling me,” I said, half laughing, half breathless.

He immediately loosened his grip, stepping back. “Sorry,” he muttered, eyes dropping to the floor.

I giggled, the sound coming out more broken than cheerful. Watching him walk out, my chest tightened. My hand moved instinctively to my heart.

Why did I still feel this way?

Why, after everything—after betrayal, after death, after all the pain—did his touch still make my heart race like it used to?

The way he’d said those words, the warmth of his arms—it left a strange flutter that I didn’t want to admit was still there.

I took a deep breath, forcing a small smile to chase away the thought. Maybe it was just nostalgia. Maybe it was the ache of the past tugging at me again.

**

When I stepped out of the changing room, the evening air brushed against my bare skin, soft and cool. The pool shimmered under the dim golden lights around it, and there he was—Roman—already sitting by the poolside with his feet dipped into the water, hair still slightly damp from the shower, staring at his reflection like he was trying to remember who he used to be.

The moment his eyes lifted and found me, his jaw slackened. For a second, I froze, suddenly aware of how exposed I was. The swimsuit was simple, but it hugged my body a little too perfectly, outlining every curve I’d tried not to notice in the mirror. His mouth parted slightly as his gaze swept over me—quickly, but not quick enough. He blinked, looking away with a faint cough.

“You… uh, you look…” he started.

“Don’t,” I cut him off, walking toward the pool with a teasing grin. “You’ll make it weird.”

He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It already is weird.”

“Good,” I said, dipping my toes into the water. It was cold, enough to make me gasp. “Then let’s make it worse.”

Before he could react, I jumped in with a loud splash, sending waves of water over him. He jerked back with a groan.

“Tasha!”

I surfaced, laughing so hard I could barely keep afloat. “What? You said you missed being friends!”

He shook his head, standing to his full height. “Oh, it’s war now.”

He dove into the pool, cutting through the water like he was born for it. The moment he surfaced, I splashed him again, catching his face full-on. He gasped and retaliated, flicking water at me with both hands, chasing me across the shallow end. We moved like two kids again, the laughter echoing against the quiet mansion walls.

I swam backward, trying to keep distance, but he caught my wrist under the water, tugging me closer. “Got you,” he said, smirking.

“Let me go!” I struggled, giggling.

“Not a chance.” He pulled me toward him, and we collided—my chest hitting his. The world went still for a heartbeat. The only sound was the soft ripple of water between us, the faint thud of my heart pounding too fast.

His eyes met mine—warm brown, dark and uncertain. His hand was still around my wrist, but his grip loosened, drifting upward until his fingers brushed my shoulder, then the back of my neck. Every muscle in my body went still. I should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t.

Our faces were too close now. His breath mingled with mine, warm and ragged. His gaze dropped to my lips, and I felt my pulse stumble, my chest tighten.

“Roman…” I whispered, but it came out softer than I intended.

He didn’t answer. He just leaned closer, slow, like he was waiting for me to move first. My eyes fluttered shut before I realized what I was doing, the distance between us almost gone.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

The voice cracked through the air like a whip.

We both froze.

Jeremy’s voice.

The water was suddenly cold again.

I could still hear Jeremy’s voice thundering across the courtyard, loud enough to echo against the pool tiles. My chest tightened the instant I saw him — drenched in anger, jaw hard, eyes burning. For a fleeting second, all I wanted to do was run to him, bury my face in his chest, and tell him it wasn’t what it looked like. But my legs didn’t move. Instead, I stood frozen beside Roman, feeling the weight of Jeremy’s glare like fire against my skin.

“Get your hands off my woman!” Jeremy roared, his fists trembling at his sides.

Roman stiffened. The water rippled between us as Jeremy took a step closer, but before he could reach me, I blurted out, “Don’t, Roman.”

Roman looked at me — confused, maybe torn — but obeyed. I grabbed his wrist and swam toward the edge. The water felt heavier with every stroke, my heart pounding like I was swimming through guilt itself. When we reached the edge, Roman pulled himself out first, then reached a hand to help me. I took it, letting him lift me up. Without hesitation, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it gently around my shoulders, his gaze darting between me and Jeremy.

“I’ll leave you to talk,” Roman muttered under his breath before stepping back.

Jeremy's gaze was still on me, the rage burning through his eyes as he moved closer until I could smell the faint scent of cologne and chlorine mixed together — the smell I’d grown to recognize as his.

“What are you trying to do, Tasha?” he asked, voice rough, low.

I looked at him, words stuck in my throat.

He grabbed my wrist, fingers tight, possessive. “Don’t you ever let another man touch you again,” he seethed. “You hear me?”

I stared at his hand gripping me and slowly scoffed, yanking my wrist free. “Follow that rule yourself first, Jeremy.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“How was Elsa in bed?” I snapped, my voice trembling but fierce. “Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy letting her touch you? Making out with her while I was waiting like a fool who actually believed your words meant something?”

Jeremy’s mouth opened, his expression twisting with guilt. “Tasha, listen to me, Elsa drugged me.”

“No! I won't listen” I cut him off, shoving him backward with both hands. “Elsa’s cunning, I know that. She’s manipulative, yes. But if you had even an ounce of self-control or decency, you wouldn’t have fallen for it! You wouldn’t have touched her!”

Jeremy’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t…”

“Don’t!” I screamed, tears burning my eyes. “Don’t insult me with excuses!”

He suddenly punched the pillar next to me hard and I almost flinched as he stepped closer again, his voice hard, defensive. “You think you can talk to me about decency? You think you can pull this act while swimming with him and still argue with me?!” His finger jabbed toward Roman. “You’re mine, Tasha! You belong to me!”

My chest heaved as his words echoed. Something in me snapped.

“I don’t belong to anyone!” I yelled, my voice shaking. “And you…” I glared at him through my tears. “You have no right to be jealous of what I do with Roman when you’re not even pure yourself.”

Jeremy’s face darkened, his nostrils flaring. “I’m a man,” he growled, “and I can do whatever I want. You can’t.”

The sound of his words hit harder than any slap could’ve. Had I really misjudged him, maybe I really didn't know him, not enough to see he's a self absorbed bastard and a control manaic. My vision blurred, rage boiling through my veins, and before I could stop myself, my hand flew across his face — hard and loud.

The crack echoed.

His head turned slightly from the force, but he didn’t move otherwise. I stood there shaking, my palm stinging, eyes filling with tears I couldn’t hold back. “Get out,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Get out of here, Jeremy. Get out of my life.”

He looked back at me slowly, his jaw clenched, his voice suddenly quiet. “You’re… breaking up with me?”

I swallowed hard, forcing my tears down as I said the words that felt like knives on my tongue. “We were never dating, Jeremy. Those were just kisses. Nothing more.”

His face froze.

“I was only using you,” I continued, even though each word made my chest ache. “To get back at Roman. That’s all it ever was. Because the truth is…” I turned, meeting Roman’s startled gaze. “I’ve always wanted Roman, I love Roman and it will always be Roman for me okay!”

Jeremy went completely still. His hands trembled slightly before he clenched them into fists. “Say that again,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

I didn’t. Instead, I walked past him, the sound of water dripping off my towel the only thing breaking the silence. I stopped in front of Roman, looked him in the eyes, and before I could think twice, I grabbed his face and kissed him — hard.

I pulled away and turned to Jeremy, his eyes were glassy. His breathing uneven.

I could see the heartbreak, the disbelief, the pain all tangled together — but I didn’t say a word.

“Is that enough proof?” I asked, my voice cracking.

Jeremy didn’t reply. He just looked at me one last time, a thousand unspoken words trapped behind his eyes, and turned around.

And then he walked away — slowly, quietly, leaving nothing behind but the echo of my own breaking heart.