Love beyond the mask201-300

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Chapter_264

The pounding came again—loud, unrelenting, impatient.

She threw off her covers and wrapped a robe around her, heart thudding in her chest. The clock on the wall read 2:13 AM.

Who the hell comes banging at this hour?

She padded barefoot to the door, peered through the peephole—and froze.

Ludwik.

Hair tousled, collar askew, face pale and stormy. His hand was raised for another knock.

Whitney’s breath hitched. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind, none of them making sense. She slowly unlatched the chain and pulled open the door.

His eyes locked on hers immediately. They were bloodshot, unreadable. Furious. Confused. Desperate.

“What are you—” she started.

But Ludwik didn’t let her finish.

He stepped forward, forcing her to take a step back. “What the hell did you do to me, Whitney?”

She blinked, stunned. “What?”

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a firm click. “Don’t play dumb with me. What did you do to me? Three years ago. Did you drug me? Put something in my drink? Some kind of hormonal trick?”

His words were sharp, spit-laced with accusation. He looked like a man unraveling.

Whitney stood her ground, voice icy. “You show up at my home in the middle of the night, talking about—what—witchcraft now?”

“Don’t gaslight me!” he snapped, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “You—you made me like this. No other woman—no one—I can’t even—” His voice broke, then turned bitter. “You made sure I could only react to you, didn’t you? That way I’d never truly leave.”

Whitney stared at him, chest heaving. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “You’re insane.”

He looked at her, breathing hard, jaw tight.

“Maybe I am,” he murmured. “Ever since you came back… I haven’t been able to think straight.”

The silence that followed was tense. Unbearably so.

Whitney crossed her arms. “You think I cursed you with some love spell? Ludwik, if I had that kind of power, I would’ve used it to stop you from marrying her.”

That hit a nerve. He flinched.

But he didn’t leave.

Instead, his voice dropped low, dangerous. “Then what the hell happened between us?”

Whitney’s eyes shimmered with pain. “You happened. You chose Elaine. You chose to believe a scandal over your own wife. You let me walk away without even a goodbye.”

Ludwik’s expression faltered. Just for a second.

Then: “And yet, you’re still in my head.”

Whitney shook her head slowly, forcing her voice to stay firm. “Get out, Ludwik. You want answers? See a doctor. Go to therapy. But don’t barge in here blaming me for your dysfunctions.”

He didn’t move.

“Out.”

Still, he stood there.

It wasn’t until Whitney reached for her phone—threatening to call someone—that he finally turned and walked out. Not a word. Just the soft thud of the door closing behind him.

Whitney stood there for a long moment, chest rising and falling.

Then she locked the door. Bolted it. And leaned her forehead against the wood, whispering to herself,

“You’re the one who left, Ludwik. Don’t come running back now.”

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