Chapter 92

[ 821 words ]

Emilia’s POV

I shook my head, still gasping for air. “No. I told you. I can’t do this.”

“You can.” He bent down to meet my eyes. “As long as you keep trying, there’s nothing you can’t overcome. Give me your hand.”

He stretched out his hand and waited.

I hesitated. Every cell in my body screamed at me to run to the stairs and never look back. But then I looked at his face. It was serious, patient, waiting. And I remembered the quiet in my mind when I was in his arms.

So I took his hand.

We went again.

This time, before the doors closed, he pulled my face against his chest. “What do you want to eat for lunch?” he asked casually, as if we were sitting in a park.

“Nothing,” I said, my voice tight.

“Come on. You have to eat. How about barbecue? I’m not a big fan, but I can be a gentleman and tag along if that’s what you want.”

I didn’t answer. I could feel the doors closing, and my body started trembling again. My heart pounded. I covered my mouth with my hand, terrified I would throw up all over his expensive shirt.

The elevator stopped. I bolted out and barely made it to the restroom before I lost my lunch.

When I came out, Sebastian was waiting by the door, his arms crossed.

“Again,” he said.

“No.” My voice was firmer this time.

“Just one more.”

“I can’t do it,” I said, frustration creeping into my voice. “Not once more.”

His expression shifted. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed. “The more you act like this, the more you can’t overcome it. I thought you had more backbone than other women. But I guess you’re just as weak as the rest.”

My eyes burned. I was so angry I could feel my blood boiling.

“Oh, that’s rich,” I snapped. “You think it’s so easy to overcome fear? If it were, why can’t you get over your own PTSD? Don’t act like you’re saving me, Sebastian. You’re the one who needs saving more than anyone else.”

He didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped closer, his green eyes boring into mine.

“Yeah. I do need saving,” he said quietly. “I’m not normal. But because I know how much it sucks being abnormal, I want you to live like a normal person.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to shove him away and walk up those ten flights of stairs just to prove him wrong. But the look in his eyes stopped me.

He meant it.

So I went again.

The third time, I failed. The fourth time, too. The fifth. The sixth.

We went up and down so many times that a security guard came over to check on us. When we explained what we were doing, the guard, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, just nodded and said, “Take your time. We’ve all got our battles.”

I lost count of how many times we went up and down. But somewhere around the seventh or eighth attempt, I realized something.

My heart wasn’t racing as fast.

My hands weren’t shaking as much.

I could breathe.

Sebastian held me the entire time, his arms wrapped around me like a shield, his voice a steady hum in my ear. He talked about stupid things like traffic, real estate, and the weather. Anything to keep my mind occupied.

And slowly, I started to believe him. I started to believe that I could do it.

When the elevator doors opened on the fifth floor one last time, I stepped out on steady legs. My hands were still a little clammy, and my heart still fluttered, but I didn’t feel like I was dying.

I turned to look at Sebastian, who was leaning against the elevator doorframe, watching me with a small, almost smug smile.

“Not bad, huh?” he said.

I wanted to say something sarcastic. I wanted to roll my eyes and tell him it was no big deal. But the words got stuck in my throat.

Because I realized something else, too.

I had a feeling about this impossible man. The one who had been nothing but a thorn in my side since the day I met him.

As the elevator rose, I began to fall for him.

I could not describe my feelings. I had worked hard for many years trying to overcome my fear, but it was all for nothing. He helped me do it in less than an hour.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, the words feeling foreign on my tongue.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. Then he smirked.

“Don’t get used to it, sweetheart. I’m not in the business of being nice.”

I rolled my eyes and walked past him. “There he is. The troll is back.”

He laughed.

And I felt the corner of my lips twitch into a smile.

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