Trapped in a Novel as the D-Class Alpha I Hated Most Chapter 169: I’m Your Present... And Your Future

Deniz and I walk together toward the bus stop, our hands intertwined, fingers laced like they were always ant to find each other this way.

The hill street stretches before us, silent and dark. The only sounds are our soft footsteps and the distant rustle of leaves in the night breeze.

The darkness that once frightened now feels like a blanket, warm and protective, because he’s beside .

But sothing has changed.

The fear I felt earlier in this darkness is gone. Not with him beside . Not after the magic of this night—after the ice cream, the keychains, and the way he looked at under the stars.

But another fear has taken its place, quieter but more persistent.

Deniz’s eyes are downcast, fixed on the path ahead, his face carrying that familiar expression I’ve co to dread.

Sadness. Blankness.

A hollow distance that makes him look like a stranger wearing my lover’s face. Like he’s wandered sowhere far away, sowhere I can’t follow, sowhere the light doesn’t reach.

I’ve seen it too many tis.

After Bryan left our apartnt, leaving that oily smile behind like a stain. After his na was ntioned at the hospital, and Deniz’s whole body went still.

After he appeared in this town, this secret place Deniz shared with , and shattered our perfect mont. And now, after everything, after we walked away from him, Deniz is still lost in that distant place.

I can’t take it anymore.

I stop walking.

Deniz doesn’t notice. His hand slips from mine, the connection breaking, and he takes two more steps before the absence registers.

His body keeps moving while his mind is elsewhere, and the sight of it—of him so disconnected from the present—makes my chest ache.

He blinks, pulled from wherever he was, and turns to look at . Confusion flickers across his features.

"Zyren? What happened?"

I et his eyes, letting him see the concern I’ve been carrying all night.

"Shouldn’t that be my question? What happened to you?"

His gaze drops imdiately, avoiding mine.

"Nothing happened."

I step forward and cup his face in my palms, gentle but firm, lifting his chin until his dark eyes et mine.

His cheeks are warm against my hands, and in the dim light I can see it—the telltale shine, the tears he’s fighting to hold back.

"Deniz." My voice is soft but steady, an anchor in the darkness.

"I know sothing is off. I’ve known it from the beginning. From the mont Bryan walked into our apartnt this morning."

His cheeks flush. His eyes glisten dangerously.

I brush my thumb across his cheekbone, a featherlight touch, a promise of gentleness.

"I don’t want to force you to tell . I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or push you into sothing you’re not ready for."

I pause, letting the words settle between us like stones in still water. "But I can’t take this anymore. I can’t keep watching you disappear into yourself and pretend I don’t notice."

His breath catches audibly.

"I hate seeing you like this." My voice wavers, just slightly.

"Sad. Blank. Lost sowhere I can’t reach you. I hate it."

A tear escapes, sliding down his cheek.

"Because I love you."

He blinks, and the dam breaks. Tears spill over, trailing down his cheeks in silent streams, catching the faint starlight. I catch them with my thumb, wiping them away as gently as I can.

"Please," I whisper. "Share with . If you feel comfortable. If you don’t, I’ll wait. I’ll always wait. I’ll wait forever if that’s what you need."

I hold his gaze, willing him to see the truth there. "But I needed you to know—I see you. I see when you’re hurting. And I’m here."

He presses my hand against his face, holding it there like it’s the only thing keeping him anchored to this world, to this mont, to .

"I’m sorry, Zyren." His voice cracks open, raw and vulnerable.

I smile softly, sadly. "Why are you apologizing?"

He looks down again, tears still falling, his shoulders shaking with the effort of holding himself together. Hesitation wars with sothing else on his face—fear, maybe, or sha, or a lifeti of learned silence.

Finally, quietly, so quietly I almost miss it, he speaks.

"Zyren..."

"Hmm."

"Mr. Bryan..." A pause, heavy with the weight of years.

"He isn’t just my teacher."

I stay silent, waiting, my thumb still tracing gentle circles on his cheek.

"He’s my ex-boyfriend."

The words hang in the air between us, fragile and imnse.

Ex-boyfriend.

So this is it. This is the reason that cheap oga touched him with such familiarity, spoke to him with such possessive undertones.

This is why Deniz has been disappearing into himself all day, why his face goes blank every ti Bryan’s na is ntioned.

Because his past keeps showing up, demanding attention, demanding space, demanding answers Deniz isn’t ready to give.

For a long mont, only the rustle of leaves fills the silence between us.

Deniz glances up at , his voice breaking completely.

"Zyren... I’m sorry. I didn’t an to hide it from you. I just—I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t know if you’d—if this would change things—"

I cut him off gently, my voice soft as moonlight.

"Is that so?"

He freezes. His eyes widen, shock replacing the tears for just a mont. Clearly not expecting this reaction.

Slowly, deliberately, I lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek. His skin is warm against my lips, still wet with tears, and I let the kiss linger just long enough to say everything words can’t.

When I pull back, he stares at , utter bewildernt written across his features.

I smile softly, warmly, genuinely. "I’m happy you told . I thought you were worried about sothing terrible. Sothing that would break us."

"Aren’t you angry with ?"

I wipe his tears again, my thumb tracing the corner of his eye, catching the last of them before they can fall.

"Why would I be angry? Everyone has a past, Deniz. Everyone has things they’re not proud of, people they used to love, mistakes they made."

I hold his gaze, letting him see the absolute certainty in my eyes. "It’s not a big deal."

He just stares at , like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, for to reveal this is all so cruel joke.

I lace my fingers through his again, squeezing gently, anchoring him to the present.

"Deniz. That’s your past." I pause, letting the words land with the weight they deserve.

"And now? I’m your present. And your future."

A soft smile touches my lips, warm and real.

"Let’s go ho."

He nods slowly, still processing, still searching my face for doubt. He won’t find any.

We start walking again. Side by side. Hands together. Our footsteps falling in rhythm on the dark path.

Behind us, the town fades into the night.

His hand tightens around mine, just slightly.

A silent thank you.

A silent promise.