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Dev releases a dark chuckle. “According to her, she ain't your wife.”

My fists curl at my sides. “What the fuck happened to you, man? Why are you like this? Did our grandparents fuck up that bad?”

“You don't know what you're talking about,” he scoffs, returning his focus to the sky.

“So make me understand. Were they awful? Did they hurt you?”

“Shut the fuck up, little bro.”

I grab his arm roughly. “No, I wanna know. Enlighten me. What could have been so bad in your life that you think it's okay to treat people this way?”

His bruised eyes shine beneath the starlight. “I treat people exactly how they treat me.”

“Yeah? And how’s that?”

“Disposable.”

I rear back slightly. “Dev, I didn't⁠—”

“Don't even try to deny it,” he growls. “You used me to get back at Salem and she used me to get back at you. Christian just wanted a test subject for his dick, and Arya wanted to fuck. Even Xed only kept me around for the drugs. You all got exactly what you wanted from me and then you threw me away.” He turns his head to glare at me fiercely. “Just like them.”

“Just like who? Our parents?”

Instead of answering, he swings his legs to the side to stand. His body wobbles slightly, and I reach out on instinct to steady him before he faceplants into the dirt. Still, he doesn't speak, just stares into the treeline with his jaw clenched tight.

“I didn't use you to get back at Salem, Dev, I just…” Trailing off, I run a hand down my face as I try to put my feelings into words. “I was drowning, man. Everything was falling apart with Salem, with my family. Mom and Dad aren't who I thought they were, and I'm not who I thought I was. I spent so many fucking years trying to shove this shit down so I could give them what they want, and for what?”

“Shove what down?” he mutters, still not looking at me.

I pinch his jaw and force his eyes to mine. “You,” I breathe. “Us. What we did. I've thought about being with boys since grade school, but I wanted girls, too. So I thought, why does it matter? As long as I can still marry a beautiful wife and have kids like the church wants, then liking boys is fine. I could just look, but not touch, right?”

He tries to wrench his gaze away. “That's some horseshit.”

But I tighten my hold, needing to get the words out of my head. “When you came out as bi, everything changed. I still remember the day Dad was fuming over it. He'd just gotten off the phone with Grandpa, and he was pacing the living room muttering ‘no son of mine is gonna be a queer.’ I understand now that he was talking about you but at the time, I thought he meant me. And I was fucking terrified, Dev, because I'd had bad thoughts about you and it freaked me out that maybe he could see it somehow. Maybe it was the way I looked at you, or boys in general, I don't know. So, I hid it. Stuffed it way down.”

“What the fuck does this have to do with me?” Devon grumbles.

“When you dropped the truth about my adoption, it was like the floodgates broke. Everything I'd been suppressing for so long came to the surface, and I just… wanted to let it out.”

A bitter smile crosses his lips. “So you used me to find yourself.”

“No,” I whisper. “I lost myself in you.”

Dev's throat works with a swallow, but he doesn’t say anything.

I loosen my grip on his jaw but don't drop it entirely. “That night, in my apartment? That wasn’t revenge or curiosity. That was me finally giving in, and I hated myself for loving it. Hated you for making me feel more myself in one night than I had in years. Everything I thought I knew was a goddamn lie.”

His eyes shine as he studies my face, searching for something. “And now?”

Finally releasing him, I step back and look out toward the river. “Now, I still don't really know who I am. But I know who I won't be.”

“And who’s that?”

“Someone who hides himself from other people,” I answer firmly. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to be the version of myself that wouldn’t make anyone uncomfortable. The obedient son, the loyal boyfriend, the straight best friend. But none of it felt like me except for when I was with you.”

Dev draws closer, reaching out to ghost a hand across my waist. “That night… I thought I imagined that it meant more to you.”

“It did.” The words leave my mouth quickly, and my ears burn at the admission.