49. Zane

Chapter forty-nine

Zane

T he soft creak of the wooden stairs cut through the silence, a prelude to the moment I've been dreading. My fingers wrap tighter around the cold banister, knuckles whitening as I stand at its base, anxiety coursing through my veins like an insidious poison.

My fair lady stands at the top.

"Jasmine, I was about to-"

She suddenly steps towards me, and my heart hits my mouth as I foresee a fall that never happens. She descends the stairs one slow step at a time.

"Jasmine," I begin again, my voice unsteady, betraying the nerves within. I didn't mean to trick her, but I did nothing to reassure her innocence either.

"Andrew," my words stumble as I rush to fill the silence, "he was... he would have killed you, Jasmine. If I had let him live after what you did, after what he tried-"

Her face is unreadable as she reaches the foot of the stairs.

I inhale sharply, the truth clawing its way up my throat. "But I was wrong, so terribly wrong. I put you in even greater danger in trying to protect you." The confession hangs between us, a fragile bridge over a chasm of my own making.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, the words a meagre attempt to mend the hurt I've caused. "Jasmine, I'm truly sorry."

"Sorry doesn't quite cut it," she speaks softly, each syllable laced with an edge of annoyance. "You let me believe that... that I had killed him." Her voice cracks under the weight of that belief, a burden she's been carrying since the night everything fell apart.

A dull pain throbs in my chest, knowing I was the architect of her suffering. "I know, and I'll never forgive myself for that," I breathe out, the air escaping my lungs as though it, too, sought forgiveness. "I am so sorry, Jasmine."

She folds her arms, creating a physical and emotional barrier between us. "Do you have any idea what it's like," she pauses, collecting the shards of her composure, "to think you've taken a life?" The words hang heavy, a shroud threatening to suffocate us both.

"His life was lost because of your hand, not mine. Had I known it affected you so deeply, I would have taken all the blame." I should have been more careful.

"Every second of every day, I've been drowning in guilt." Her voice breaks the surface of her control, revealing the turmoil that wracks beneath her calm. "Now," she continues, quieter now, "I'm just relieved. Relieved that I don't have to carry the weight of being a murderer on top of everything else."

"Jasmine," I take her hand in mine. "If I could take it all back—"

"You can't," she cuts in, her voice firm, even as her eyes soften ever so slightly. "No one can change the past. We live with it, and we learn from it."

A heavy silence settles in the space around us, its presence as palpable as the tension that laces the air between us. Jasmine's gaze holds mine, searching, weighing, deciding. Time seems to hitch on her next breath, and when she finally exhales, the world tilts back on its axis. I lean in and press my lips against hers, tasting the salt of tears still lingering on her skin. She hesitates for a moment but then melts into the kiss, her hands finding their way to my neck.

"I forgive you," she whispers between kisses, "but you have to promise me you'll never lie to me again."

"I promise," I breathe, pulling her closer to me.