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What rules?

How were they broken?

“Gradually, I realized there was fire between you two, even if you weren’t interacting at all,” he says with a humorless laugh. “And all that lack of interaction was because of me, right?”

He asks, though he doesn’t wait for an answer.

“I realized you’d pulled back. That you stopped provoking her or teasing her the way the others said you used to, because of me. Out of respect for me,” he adds, clearly affected now, the weight of it finally catching up on him. “And still, I didn’t come to tell you that everything is fake, that we were just pretending.”

“Theo, you don’t owe me an explanation,” I assure him, my voice quieter now, the tension still there… just contained.

Laughing, he turns his eyes back to me.

“Yes, I do,” he counters. “Don’t you see? The moment you found out nothing was real between us, you let yourself get close to her again, closer than before.”

Fuck.

I never thought about that, the realization settling in uncomfortable in its accuracy. But he’s right. I kept my distance because of him, clearly, every instinct in me pulling back the moment I believed she was his. But that doesn’t mean things would’ve progressed between us a year ago.

Right?

Then why did everything escalate the moment I found out she wasn’t with him?

“Fuck, man,” I say, dragging a hand down my face, the frustration heavier now, more layered than a simple reaction.

“I know you’d never touch another man’s woman, Ethan,” he tells me, honest, holding my gaze without hesitation. “And I’d never worry about that. Not with you, not with any of the guys.”

“That’s why the thought drove me insane. That I did that even though I thought you two were together,” I say, my voice firm, sincere.

“You touched her because she was yours, Ethan. Not mine,” he says, laughing before giving me a quick wink.

I don’t react to that. Not outwardly.

But the words land.

Too well.

“Somewhat?” I ask again, deliberately ignoring his claim, circling back to the part that still matters, the part my mind refuses to let go of.

“Fuck…” he starts.

My entire body tenses, attention narrowing instantly, every muscle constricting with intensity.

“Not a good start, Theo.”

“The night of the gala a few months ago, before Thalia and I announced we weren’t a couple,” he begins.

And my thoughts are already moving ahead, faster than they should, connecting pieces I don’t yet fully have.

Night.

This doesn’t sound good.

“We left the gala in a rush because something happened that really upset Thalia,” he explains.

I force myself to stay still, to listen until the end, even as a faint tension grows beneath my skin.

“She was practically running toward the exit where I was taking a call. I saw her, realized something was wrong, ended the call, and she just wanted to leave.”