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“Kass?” He blinks shock at me.
Before I know it, he’s grabbed me by the arm, leading me outside of the room. The instant the door closes, his shock is replaced by livid anger.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
I’m ashamed of my actions.
“It’s Zoey, she… She sent me a picture of you leaving this place and she said you were cheating and I—”
“Hold on,” he says as though he’s certain he misheard me. “You followed me here?”
“No. Well, not exactly. Zoey gave me the address, and I showed up here an hour ago.” I wince at my own words.
He seems baffled, furious, betrayed—don’t forget betrayed. Then his eyes blaze with understanding.
“But your texts… You were here this whole time?”
My words leave me.
I really messed up.
“You were testing me,” he realizes.
Say something! Fix this!
“Yes, I was, but only because I thought you were keeping things from me. Like your mom. You said she was okay. She’s not oka—”
“Don’t talk about her!” he snarls. “I can’t believe it. Do you… Do you even realize what you did? You followed me, spied on me! For fuck’s sake, Kass. Who do you think I am? Your puppet?”
Regret surges inside me.
“It’s not like that, I swear. It’s just… you’re always so closed off. You won’t tell me anything about your life.” The more I try to patch this up, the quicker he slips through my fingers.
I step forward, grasping his face between my hands. “I’m sorry, I messed up.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, fuming, and exhales a deep, self-soothing breath. Helplessness, fear—just two of the many things I’m feeling when I push to my tiptoes and sling my arms around his neck, hugging him with all I have. Not to sway his forgiveness, but because I feel so awful for what he’s had to go through tonight. I need this.
I need to be there for him.
He doesn’t reject me, which is a good sign, but he also doesn’t reciprocate the hug. I don’t care—I’m not letting go.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, holding on tighter.
Something tells me he knows I’m not apologizing for my mistakes. I’m apologizing for life putting him through this hell. How long has his mother been an addict? Since his father took everything and ran? Has he been dealing with this his whole life?
Every single part of me relaxes when he returns my embrace, his arms circling my waist and drawing me flush to his chest. Relief fills me to the brim as he rests his chin atop of my head.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeat, but his only response is a heavy sigh. Then, stupidly, I add, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Just like that, the spell is broken.
His arms are off me, his body far from mine.
“Are you serious right now?” His face twists in fury. “Maybe because I didn’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me right now. Like I’m a broken toy who needs fixing. Or maybe because this is shit, Kass. My life is shit! All of it. And call me selfish, but I wanted to have one good thing. Just one fucking thing.”
I’m about to blab out another apology, but the devil on my shoulder laughs at me.
Silly, girl, don’t you know?
