I stepped back at the words, like it was a physical blow.
Dev went still. He dragged a hand through his hair, jaw tight.
“That was—”
He exhaled hard. “That was a shitty thing to say.”
He stepped towards me. “Seph, I like you. I do. But we’re friends.”
“Dev—”
“And I’ll always be your friend. But what happened between us can’t happen again. I shouldn’t have let it go there.” His jaw tightened. “I don’t want to risk losing what we already have.”
He looked at me fully now, eyes guarded but not unkind.
“So, I’m stopping it. Right here.”
I felt like crumpling.
“What if I don’t want you to?” I asked finally, my voice shaky.
He looked away first.
“You already have people who can stand steady with you.” A beat. “You’ll be okay.”
“Dev,” I said softly
“I can’t be what you’d need, Seph. That’s the truth.”
He bent to retrieve a knife from the floor, movements precise, almost mechanical.
I watched him, my chest tightening.
“And what exactly do I need, Dev?” I asked, the bitterness slipping through. “Go on. Tell me.”
He met my eyes — and said nothing.
The silence pressed in, thick and suffocating.
I stood slowly and straightened my shoulders.
“My life has never been normal. You know that. But not once — not once — have I doubted how I feel about anyone. Not Ash. Not even Kieran.”
I held his gaze.
“And not you.”
“Seph—”
“No.” My voice steadied. “Don’t decide for me. If you don’t trust yourself, say that. If you’re scared, say that. But don’t dress it up like you’re protecting me.”
For a heartbeat, something flickered across his face.
“I’m not complicated,” I continued, quieter now. “I choose who I choose.”
I stepped back toward the door.
“So if you’re walking away, at least have the courage to call it what it is.”
