Sweet Hatred
Chapter 148: Bridge

Chapter 148: Bridge

Kael tilted his head slightly, eyes searching mine. "Did my father say anything strange to you?"

I looked away, swallowing down the bitter taste on my tongue.

Strange? Yeah. He said Kael isn’t exactly who he presents himself to be. That underneath all the cold control and charm, he’s something far more brutal. Something darker. A version of Kael that doesn’t flinch, doesn’t care, doesn’t love.

But I didn’t say that.

Instead, I said, "He mentioned your first love. That’s why I asked yesterday... About Ivan."

His body didn’t move, not an inch, but something shifted in his eyes.

I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t been staring. If I hadn’t memorized the way his lashes lower when he’s about to lie, the flicker of grief that tugs at the corners of his mouth before he presses them flat again.

He was... sad.

Not in the Kael Roman way where it’s cold and silent and brutal. But real sad. Human sad. The kind that sticks to your ribs like wet fabric.

Ivan.

That name echoed inside me, gnawing at something I didn’t want to touch.

He once loved someone. Truly. Deeply. Enough to still break at the thought.

And me? I was just... here.

I was the girl who pushed too hard, who got under his skin in all the wrong and right ways, the girl who made him laugh when he was not supposed to, who he kissed when no one was watching but I would never be him. I would never be Ivan.

And I hated it.

I hated myself for wondering, if Ivan were still alive, if he walked into our lives right now, would Kael just... leave? Run back into his arms like nothing ever happened?

The thought felt like swallowing glass.

"I need a drink," I muttered to myself.

Kael’s voice was quiet. "Are you cold?"

Before I could answer, he was already sliding his suit jacket off and draping it over my shoulders. The warmth of it wrapped around me like an embrace I didn’t know I needed.

I looked up at him and asked, "Why did you bring us here?"

He stared at the water like it held every memory he ever buried. "It’s my favorite place in Rome."

I blinked. "Strange," I said, but my voice was soft. "But I kind of get it. Even with all the fast cars flying past... it feels a little peaceful."

It did. The chaos of the city felt far away here. The lights shimmered against the water, the hum of the night a quiet kind of lullaby.

And yet, the peace in me was just a performance.

I wanted to ask him things. About his past. About the things he’s too scared to say out loud.

But I was tired of being the only one who asked.

Did Ivan have to ask him? Or did Kael just offer those pieces of himself up freely?

I clenched my teeth and forced the thought away. Ugh. This wasn’t me. I didn’t get sentimental like this.

But around him, it was like I didn’t know who I was anymore.

I didn’t ask him directly. I couldn’t.

But after a stretch of silence where we just stood there, surrounded by wind and water and fast cars blurring behind us like ghosts, I said quietly, "I know you don’t like to talk much about your family... but I can’t help but wonder why you hate your dad so much."

I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. My fingers grazed the stone railing as I added, "I feel like... maybe we share something there. Something very similar."

He let out another one of those long, weighted exhales, and I felt his eyes on me. I didn’t meet them.

"Sorry," I muttered, half turning. "I didn’t mean to pry—"

"You’re not," he cut in gently.

I stilled.

Then his voice dropped lower, steadier, like it hurt to say but he needed it out. "Every single person I’ve ever loved has ended up dead because of my father. Well... Close."

My heart twisted violently. We shared the same kind of pain.

I looked at him then. Really looked. His expression was unreadable to anyone else, I’m sure. But I’d come to recognize the way his pain leaked out in the quietest ways.

The flicker of his eyes, the set of his mouth. It was like something inside him was unraveling like the version of Kael that sat beside me at lunch yesterday, lost in memories, barely there.

It felt like he was slipping into that place again. That faraway place I couldn’t reach. And I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t pull him back.

So I stepped closer and touched his face, as gently as I could. "What happened?" I whispered.

His eyes flickered to mine, and then he said her name without really saying it.

"My mother..." He swallowed hard. "Until her last breath, she loved him. My father. Even when he gave her nothing back. Not warmth. Not kindness. Not even after she died."

I didn’t breathe.

"I didn’t understand it at first. As a kid, I thought maybe she was dramatic when they argued. I thought maybe there was something wrong with her. But as I grew up... I saw it. There wasn’t any love between them. My father felt nothing for her. He married her because she was his betrothed. That’s it. No choice. No passion. No kindness. Just... obligation."

He looked away for a second, like he was watching ghosts walk through traffic.

"I tried to justify it, you know? Tried to tell myself maybe he had someone else he was forced to abandon. Maybe he made a sacrifice and it broke him. Maybe that’s why he was cold. But no."

He shook his head. "He just didn’t give a fuck. Not when she cried. Not when she begged. Not when she broke."

I felt something sharp press behind my ribs.

"And when he got his mistress pregnant," he added quietly, "he brought her into our house. Moved her in. Let her give birth to Andrew under our roof. While my mother was still there. Still trying."

My mouth fell slightly open.

"She couldn’t take it anymore," he said. His voice didn’t shake. It was too numb for that. "I found her body the day after my fourteenth birthday. Hanging from the ceiling of her room."

God.

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until another car zoomed past us loudly.

"And a week later," Kael added, "he married Andrew’s mom. Just like that."

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