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“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” he comments, bringing his coffee mug to his lips.

I shrug. “I have a lot on my mind.”

I tossed and turned all night, missing Jace. Being away from him feels against nature, like a bee without flowers. Without one, the other can’t survive.

Owen looks at me, really looks at me, like he’s trying to see through all the layers I’ve carefully built up over the years.

“You know,” he begins, and sets his mug on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can talk to me if you want. I won’t judge you. I know sometimes you need someone on the outside to listen.”

I roll my eyes and trace a random shape on the counter so I don’t have to look at him. “I’d hardly say you’re on the ‘outside’.”

“Not with

Greyson, no, but I don’t know your life. I don’t know your relationship with Jace. I don’t live there. I don’t see you. I don’t see him. I’m an objective third party.”

I snort. “Yeah, I wouldn’t say you’re objective, either.”

He sighs. “Come on, Nova. You’d probably feel better if you opened up.”

Something in me snaps.

“Fine,” I seethe. “You want to know something—I’m still angry, all these years later that my parents and your parents are the assholes they are, and that they forced their kids to give up their kid. How fucked up is that? I’m mad you abandoned me when I needed you most.” I step up to him and shove a finger into his chest. “You were my first love, I dreamed of our future together, and it all went up like smoke before my eyes. I thought you hated me and I was so alone, all while still having to carry our son, and then I had to give birth, alone, might I add, and watch him get taken from me. Where were you? Where were you? I needed you and you weren’t there!”

Before I can blink his hands are on my cheeks and he’s pulling me to him.

His lips are on mine in the blink of an eye and he kisses me like a man who’s been deprived of water—like he’s desperate.

My body yields to his, sinking into the familiarity. He’s more muscular than I remember and slightly taller but he still feels pretty much the same. I kiss him back, fisting his hair roughly in my fingers. I tug and he nips my bottom lip.

We’re both desperate and angry and heartbroken.

But for different reasons.

I shove him away, tears in my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I can’t—”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. Just don’t.” He rubs his jaw, a telltale sign he’s angry.

I start for the door, my fight or flight senses kicking in and all mine are saying to get out of there. To give him space.

When my hand is on the door knob, he calls out, “Wait.”

I pause and glance back at him.

“I want you to think about something,” he starts, and I worry it’s going to be about him and me. “If you’re angry because you needed me and I wasn’t there, then why are you angry at Jace for being there?”

My jaw clenches.

“You can’t have it both ways, Nova. You either want to fight your battles alone or with someone at your side. Figure it out.”

His words drive through my ribs, straight through my heart, like the steeled edge of a sword.

I open the door and it slams behind me as I race down the stairs and burst onto the street.

I stop, clutching my hair and raising my face to the sky.

Broken sobs rack my body.

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