Memories Drifted Into Soft Silence by Kyx Frost 80

Chapter 80 

After everything he’d put me through, after years of manipulation and control and violence disguised as love, 1 found that I honestly 66’t care what happened to him. As long as he could never hurt me again, or appeared before again, they could do whatever they wanted. 

I walked over to Tristan’s motorcycle and climbed on behind him, settling into the familiar position Id occupied so many times over for gest few weeks. 

The routine felt comforting now–wrapping my arms around his waist, feeling the polid strength of his back against my chest, trusting him to get us home 

safely. 

I waved goodbye to Orion and pulled on the spare helmet, trying to focus on the future instead of the past that had held me prisoner for too long 

Daxon wasn’t going to disturb my peace anymore. He wasn’t going to haunt my dreams or make me second–guess every decision I made 

He was out of my life permanently, and for the first time in years, I was truly free to figure out who I wanted to be without his falow boming over 

everything. 

The ride home was quiet except for the rumble of the engine and the whisper of wind rushing past us. I let my mind empty out, booding on the simple pleasure of movement, of going somewhere instead of running away from something 

When we pulled into our driveway, I felt lighter somehow. Like I’d left something heavy on that dark street where we’d confronted Daxoe 

Once inside, I headed straight to the kitchen and started pulling ingredients out for dinner. Tristan followed me but didn’t say anything, just stood there watching me move around the space like he was memorizing every detail. 

“You don’t have to hover,” I said without looking at him, focusing on chopping vegetables with probably more attention than they required 

“I’m not hovering. I’m observing. 

‘Same thing.” 

Not even close.” 

I smiled despite myself. This was more like the Tristan I remembered from before everything got so complicated. 

When I finished cooking, I carried our plates to the dining room and set them on the polished wood table that rarely got used. Come eat with me, I called 

to him. 

He appeared in the doorway but didn’t move any closer. I should probably just take mine to my room.” 

I knew exactly what he was thinking. He didn’t want to eat here, in this space, with another woman. Not when his mate had died in this house, when her memory was probably attached to this particular place. 

But that’s exactly why I wanted him to stay. 

‘Please, I said simply. Just this once.” 

Something in my tone must have gotten through to him because he hesitated, the slowly walked over and took the seat across from me. 

His movements were careful, deliberate, like he was testing whether the chair weld hold him or if the whole thing was some kind of trap. 

We ate in comfortable silence for a while, just the quiet clink of spoon against dishes and the soft sounds of chewing. It was peaceful in a way that surprised 

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Chapter 80 

TIRA 

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“Thank you,” he said finally, looking up from his plate. For making dinner. For…verything tonight.” 

‘You don’t have to thank me. We’re family. 

The word hung in the air between us, and I realized something had shifted while wasn’t paying attention. Maybe it was what has happened with Daxon 

tonight. 

But somewhere along the way, I’d stopped seeing him as the man I’d had a crush on since I was fourteen. 

The feelings that had lived in my heart for over a decade–the longing, the hope, the desperate wish that he might see me as something more than Orion’s little sister–they felt different now. Smaller somehow. Less important. 

I looked at him sitting across from me, his dark hair falling across his forehead, Hs strong hands wrapped around his fork, his eyes still carrying shadows of 

old pain. 

And I felt… affection. Deep, genuine affection. The kind you have for family, for someone who’s proven they’ll stand beside you when the world tries to 

knock you down. 

But not the desperate, aching love I’d carried for so long. 

As I watched him try to navigate eating dinner in a space that probably held a thousand memories of her, I made a decision. 

I was going to help him heal. Not because I wanted something from him, not because I was hoping he’d finally see me the way I’d always wanted him to, but 

because that’s what family does. 

We take care of each other. We help each other through the hard times. We don’t keep score or expect payment or wait for perfect moments. 

As I sat there looking at him, I felt the last of that old crush finally release its grip on my heart. I’d been carrying it for so long it felt strange to let it go, 

like setting down a heavy bag I’d forgotten I was carrying. 

1 

But it felt good too. Freeing. 

I release you from my heart, Tristan Hayes. 

Not because I love you less, but because I love you differently now.