Page 105 of Wells

My skin flushes hot. This is my space, my building, the one place I clawed back for myself after everything fell apart, and now he's standing here turning it into a scene.

But that's not why I step back. There's a sick part of me, the one that whispers in the back of my head that I'll never get the true love I've always wanted, the different love than I experienced my whole life. I want to hear why he lied so I can justify it.

"Fine. Get inside."

I close the door behind him, and the sound of the latch is too small for what just walked in.

Wells steps into the center of the room but doesn't go further. He stops near the coffee table, hands loose at his sides, shoulders squared. He looks bigger in here than in his place, with ceilings twice as high and now walls, just glass. He fills the space until I can't breathe.

I move away from him, around the edge of the couch, putting furniture between us.

My arms cross over my chest, and my grip on my arms cuts off the circulation. It's the only thing holding me together.

"Let's hear it so you can get the fuck out of here and my life."

He opens his mouth, then closes it. His throat works, and his eyes stay on mine.

"I didn't know at first."

I don't believe him. And even if that is true, no amount of time is acceptable.

"When?"

He hesitates, and I can tell he's measuring his words. I don't have time or patience to pussyfoot around this. I want raw truth and no padding.

"Wells. When did you realize?"

"A few weeks ago."

The air leaves my lungs in a rush. A few weeks. I count backward in my head. I think of all that happened after he knew.

"You've known for a few weeks, kissing me, making love to me, making me care about you and trust you like I've never trusted anyone and never said a damn thing."

"I didn't want to lose you."

"Well, you just fast-tracked that one."

He takes a step forward, and I hold up a hand. He stops.

My voice cracks, and I swallow hard, forcing the words out before I lose them.

"You found out who I was, and you kept going as if you didn't know. You took the version of me I gave to a black screen, and you used it to get closer to the rest of me. There are things you know about me that I never told you, and that's fucking bullshit."

He flinches.

"Only one of us was ever in the dark, and it was me the whole time. God, I can't tell you how pissed I am right now."

"It wasn't like that."

He closes his mouth and then opens it again to say more, but nothing comes out. His hand lifts and then drops.

I shake my head. The pressure behind my eyes builds so hard I have to blink to clear them.

"I grieved you."

The words come out raw, and I watch them hit him harder than anything else I've said. His breath catches. His face goes slack, color draining fast, and his eyes lock on mine.

"When Midnight disappeared, I sat at my desk in your building and I mourned him. It truly hurt me, Wells. The way you left and deleted everything and walked away without a word was cruel. Did you do it like that so I would turn to Wells, so you could have me all to yourself, use the vulnerability to control whatever it was we were building?"