All Chapters of The Cure Is you: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

°ADRIAN° "How dare you hide this from us, Adrian Royce!" For a moment, my body stiffened at the sharp voice of one of the Royce family elders. I had expected this—planned for it, even. But the timing? It couldn’t have been worse. Couldn't he have waited a damn minute? I had been content, Serena still in my arms from our dance. Thank the stars she had left her heels behind, or my feet would have suffered. And for once—just once—I had allowed myself to enjoy something. But of course, he had to ruin it. I steadied Serena beside me before turning to face him. “Uncle,” I greeted, my voice smooth, calculated. Serena, however, had gone utterly silent. That sharp tongue of hers—the one that had so often challenged me—had vanished. And once again, I was reminded that she was still just an eighteen-year-old girl caught in the middle of a storm far beyond her understanding. “I’m not here for greetings, Adrian,” my uncle snapped. “Why was this not brought to us? Do you not respect your eld

°SERENA° I was overwhelmed. Completely, utterly, and helplessly overwhelmed. Adrian had always been unpredictable, but this… this was something else entirely. Why? Why would he do this? Why would he go to such lengths—just for me? I had expected many things from him—sarcasm, teasing, that insufferable smirk he wore so well. But never this. Never something so thoughtful, so unexpected, so… breathtaking. It wasn’t just that he was walking—though that alone was enough to shatter me in the best possible way. It was everything else, too. The effort behind it. The way he had taken something impossible and turned it into reality. The way he had done it for no other reason than me. My mind struggled to process it, my heart too full to contain what I was feeling. How could someone like him—someone who pretended not to care—do something so perfect? And why… why did it make me want to cry? I blinked rapidly, but the tears spilled anyway, my chest tight, my throat aching. I fel

°ADRIAN° "I was never meant to leave that place alive." The words spill out before I can stop them, raw and unfiltered. A truth I never dared to say aloud. The room is too small, too suffocating, and yet, for the first time, there’s nowhere to run. No darkness to retreat into. Serena is watching me. But I don’t meet her eyes. Because if I do… If I do, I might see something I can’t bear— Pity. Horror. Or worse—understanding. And I don’t deserve that. Not after everything. "I was five when my mother died." The words scrape my throat, sharp and jagged. I’ve buried them for so long, convinced myself they didn’t matter anymore. But now they’re here, clawing their way out, refusing to stay silent. "They told me it was an illness. A weak heart. Something unavoidable." A fucking lie. A beautifully packaged, carefully spun lie. Because I remember her. I remember how she’d stroke my hair, humming lullabies in the softest voice. How she’d press kisses to my f

°ADRIAN° Silence stretched between us—not suffocating, but oddly comforting. Her words still echoed in my mind. "I'm not leaving." I didn’t know what she meant. Maybe I didn’t want to. But for once, I wasn’t searching for answers. Instead, I shifted, moving beside her and leaning back against the wall, stretching my legs as I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. She didn’t question my distance. Didn’t try to fill the quiet with unnecessary words. I was grateful for that. Because none of this was supposed to happen. I had played out a hundred ways this night could end. But not this. Not standing in front of the girl who once saved me—only to find out she was Serena. Not kissing her. Fuck. I kissed her. And I could still taste it. The sweetness of her lips—faint, like chocolate melting on my tongue. The way her breath hitched when I pulled her closer. How she responded—hesitant at first, then something deeper, something raw. I closed my eyes, bu

°SERENA° “Then let me help you.” What on earth? “And by doing what?” I stepped back instinctively, putting some distance between us. I can't explain why, but his closeness is doing something to me. “Anything you want,” he said, that maddening arrogance lacing his tone. “You don’t even know how to cook,” I pointed out. “That’s why we should order something until you can cook.” I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could, my stomach betrayed me with a loud grumble. A slow, devilish smirk stretched across his face. Stupid. "Fine." ___ Evening came, and he had already ordered enough food to last three days. I saved some from the afternoon, and all it needed was reheating. So instead of cooking, I chose to lounge on the couch, munching on my cocoa cakes. And then, an over-handsome, heartless—okay, maybe not heartless, more like emotionally blocked—man decided to show up in front of me. I immediately sat up straight, trying to figure out a way to leave with