Page 58 of The Gods Forbid

She pulled back even further, her back ramrod straight. She held her hand out in between us, and it was only then that I realized I’d moved to follow her. “No.”

Our mouths opened at the same time.

“You don’t get to speak to me like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

The sentences were overlapped and clunky. Persy’s lips parted in a slight gape while I loosed a deep sigh. “I’m sorry I spoke to you like that.”

I guess when I got started, it just wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d apologized to someone.

Persy rolled her shoulders back, sitting an inch taller. It reminded me of the way that animals tried to make themselves bigger when there was an incoming attacker.

The shell of the heart beating in my chest cracked.

“I appreciate your apology,” she said after a moment, her voice slightly harder than I was used to hearing.

“I’m sorry.” It felt imperative to say it again. Persy twitched, like she was trying to hide some sort of reaction. If she was restraining flinching from me, I was going to start snapping paintbrushes.

Persy nodded slowly, breathing deeply. I could almost see the wheels turning in her beautiful head. When she reached up to smooth a hand over her hair, in something that seemed to be a nervous habit, I felt closer to death than I had in a while.

My chest felt like it was going to collapse in on itself.

There were two competing forces warring in my chest. On one side, I wanted to say whatever it took to wipe that look off her face, even if it violated every promise I’d ever made to myself.

On the other, there wasn’t a chance in hell I was telling her. Not until I could have that conversation the right way.

That tension just made me all the more frustrated. “Love,” the word fell from my lips like a sigh. Persy’s shoulder blades snapped together, her back going straighter. “That was wrong of me.”

Persy’s eyebrows drew together slightly in interest.

I felt myself smile, the corners tinged with self-deprecation. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

Persy scoffed, a little scrape of a sound in the back of her throat, that seemed to surprise her. Her hand flew up, like she was about to cover her mouth before she stopped it halfway.

It surprised me too, but I kept it off my face. It was probably against everything she believed in to react to someone’s apology with sarcasm.

“No, you shouldn’t,” she said, her voice sounding like she’d intentionally made it softer. Even now, she was choosing kindness.

“What are the chances you can just forget I said that?”

Persy raised her eyebrows at me, her lips pulling into a quick, close-lipped smile in a forced show of amusement. She didn’t even give me a response.

Damnit.

I wasn’t used to this … desire to make sure someone else was okay. Normally, I just plowed through the world and assumed those who wanted to follow me would and those who I trampled over would lick their wounds and get over it.

Persy was making me care.

I expected rage to follow, fury that I’d been manipulated by someone again. Though kindness was a much sweeter reward than the shit I’d gotten in the past.

Something kindled in my chest all right, but it was more of a sickening twist than a burst of anger.

And now she was standing. Standing and walking away from me. “I think it’s time I turn in for the night,” she said, her eyes on me but unfocused, like she was only doing it to be polite but wasn’t actually seeing me.

Well, I hated that.

“You’re not done with your food.” It seemed like a perfectly reasonable response to me. Yes, she’d eaten most of her food, but she couldn’t just leave.