Sweet Hatred Chapter 360: Not going back

ARIA

The plastic bag swung lightly against my thigh as I walked back from the corner convenience store. Olivia had insisted she needed soy sauce, the good kind, not that watered-down crap, she’d said with a roll of her eyes, because she was making dinner as usual. Sohow, she’d made herself powerful enough in my kitchen to commandeer it, and though I should’ve been irritated, I wasn’t. Not really.

It had been... nice. Having Olivia here with the kids. Hearing the laughter echo through the rooms that once only held silence. It patched holes I didn’t know were still bleeding. For what seed like so long, this apartnt had been nothing but a coffin I drank myself into, bottle after bottle until I passed out, hoping morning wouldn’t co. I rembered nights I couldn’t even bring myself to call Kael, to reach for the one person who could’ve pulled out. Nights I wanted to disappear instead.

I shook the thought away and focused on the warm buzz of the streetlights. My phone sat heavy in my pocket. I’d texted him earlier, asked about his father, about work. No response.

A small coil of worry tugged at my stomach. He’d looked so unsettled that night, before the call about his father. Fear had lived in his eyes for a mont, real and vivid, and I still didn’t know what it ant.

I sighed, brushing the strands of hair from my face as I neared my building. That was when I noticed the car.

At first, I thought nothing of it, a black car parked by the curb. But as I got closer, the details sharpened. The shine of the paint, the weight of its presence, the way the lines caught the light. My steps slowed. That wasn’t just any car. It was a Rolls Royce.

A Rolls Royce did not belong in this neighborhood.

My chest tightened. The last ti I’d seen one parked outside my apartnt, Kael had stepped out of it and taken away for a weekend that felt like sothing out of another life, whisking to a castle in Italy as if I were soone who belonged in that kind of world.

I bit my lip and quickened my pace, the mory heating my chest.

The windows were tinted, but I leaned close anyway, peering at the reflection of my own face. "...Kael?" I whispered, then said louder, tapping the glass with my knuckles. "Kael? Is that you?"

No answer. My pulse jumped. For a second, I thought it was a stranger, so wealthy out-of-place executive who’d gotten lost. Embarrassnt and instinct tangled together, and I half-prepared myself to mumble an apology or swing an awkward karate chop if the door opened on soone with bad intentions.

Then the door clicked.

It opened.

And it was him.

But not the Kael I knew.

He looked wrecked. Not in the physical sense—his suit was immaculate, his posture still sharp—but in his eyes, his mouth, the set of his jaw. Exhaustion clung to him, deeper than sleeplessness. It was sothing heavier, sothing that ca from the weight of entire empires and wars I couldn’t see.

Before I could speak, before I could even ask if he was okay, he moved.

His arms closed around , sudden and fierce, pulling into his chest. My breath caught as the bag slipped from my hand, forgotten, bottles clinking against the pavent.

He held like a drowning man clutching the surface. One hand pressed against the back of my head, the other locked tight around my waist, dragging into the heat of him. His face buried against my hair, his chest heaving once, then steadying, as if my presence alone was enough to stop the storm inside him.

I froze for a second, shocked, then lted into him, my arms curling around his shoulders. He was tense, too tense, like he’d been pushed to the breaking point. The kind of hug that wasn’t really a hug at all... it was survival.

I wanted to ask. God, I wanted to. What happened today? What storm had dragged him here, to my doorstep, looking like a man who hadn’t slept in years? The words sat heavy on my tongue, but when I felt his chest tremble against , his breath uneven, I swallowed them down.

Instead, I stroked his hair, slow and gentle, patting his back in small circles. His arms stayed locked around , unyielding, like if he let go I might disappear. His breaths shuddered in, shuddered out, steadied by inches.

"You’re tired, aren’t you?" I whispered against him.

A long, deep sigh left him, hot against my ear.

I pressed my lips together and leaned closer. "You don’t have to be Kael Roman around you know?"

For a mont he was still. Then his voice ca low, rough, muffled against my hair. "I know."

He pulled back just enough to look at . My breath hitched. The exhaustion was written all over his face, etched into the dark smudges under his eyes, the hard lines of his mouth, the weight he carried like another skin.

My words stumbled before they even ford. "Is it your father? Or work? Or—"

He cut off, his tone flat but softer than usual. "I just wanted to see you." His gaze held mine, sharp and desperate all at once. "I know I’m being greedy. But I couldn’t help it."

Before I could react, he leaned in, brushing the lightest kiss against my cheek. It was almost nothing, but it set every nerve in alight.

Then he stepped back. His hand slid from my waist as he straightened, already turning. "Go back inside. I’ll be on my way."

The sharpness in flared, fast and instinctive. "What are you doing? Where do you think you’re going?"

He stepped back fully now, his shoulders squaring, voice cold again... like the man the rest of the world knew. "I’ve seen you. That’s enough."

My chest tightened. That mask. That sa shield he always pulled up when he was scared of showing too much.

"You don’t want interrupting your ti with Olivia," he added, tone clipped. "Go inside. Be with her. I’ll be fine."

The way he said it... flat, dismissive, lit fire under my skin. After showing up here wrecked, holding like he’d fall apart without , he thought he could slip back into that steel armor and walk away?

"No," I snapped before I could stop myself. "You’re not going back anywhere. You’re coming upstairs with ."

His jaw ticked, a faint crease forming between his brows. "Aria—"

I cut him off with a sharp tsk, stepping forward and grabbing his arm before he could take another step back. My fingers dug in, stubborn. "Don’t piss off, Kael. Don’t make knock you out right here on the sidewalk and drag you into my room."

"I doubt you can carry ." His head tilted slightly, a dangerous gleam flickering in his eyes, like he almost wanted to test . But then sothing softened... just for a second.

He exhaled through his nose, a low sound that was half a laugh, half surrender. "Fine. I’ll stay. Just for a bit."

But I was already tugging him forward, ignoring his words. He could argue all he wanted; he was still moving, still following my pull like a man led by invisible strings.

When I bent to grab the grocery bag I’d dropped earlier, he was quicker. His hand scooped it up easily, brushing mine aside, and instead of letting lead, he shifted, curling his fingers around my wrist.

"I’ll carry this," he muttered, low.

Then, with that quiet authority of his, he tugged forward, reversing the roles as if it had always been his decision.