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Ophelia’s lower lip creeps between her teeth.

“Nell was serious? You really thought about me all this time?”

Guilty.

I feel like I’ve been sitting on this secret so long it’s almost a sacrilege to root it out and expose it to the light. Or maybe I’ve always been so certain it was a lost cause, so I packed my feelings away somewhere I could protect them.

It’s hard as hell to admit it.

“Yeah,” I force out raggedly.

There’s a violent thumping in my chest, a war drum I think she hears.

Her eyes widen and she draws in a sharp breath. “I... I honestly thought you hated me, especially when I left.”

“Like hell.” I shake my head, catching one of her hands and curling it in my own. Sometimes it’s hard to remember how small she is when she’s so resilient. My fingers dwarf hers, big twigs against little sticks, rousing that urge to shelter and protect and keep her. “I said some dumb shit I shouldn’t have when you told me you were leaving, Butterfly. I’ve regretted it ever since.”

Dark uncertainty flickers in those spring-green eyes as her fingers curl tighter in mine.

“You... you told me not to come back.”

“I know. I was a monster asshole about it. Too afraid to face the hurt that was tearing us both up head-on.”

I exhale deeply, pulling her in, coaxing her to fit the crook of my arm—all the while hoping she’ll let me hold her while I get this out.

I need to drain the poison.

After a worn moment, she nestles herself into my side again, resting her head on my shoulder.

A few wispy blonde hairs tickle my neck and catch in my beard.

“I wasn’t thinking straight that day,” I admit. “Maybe it was all the time since Ethan disappeared, where we sat there wondering without any answers... but when you said you were leaving, all that grief came vomiting up like it was as fresh as the day he disappeared. All I could think was you were gonna disappear and never come back, too. That I was gonna be alone, stranded with my grief over my best friend and this hole in my family. This gaping fucking pit without you.”

These words are brutal.

They come out like hard, jagged shards that cut my mouth.

Especially when I’m forcing every syllable past the hard knot of pride in my throat.

Only, when I think about the damage I did, how much I hurt her, how much those words have been hanging between us all these years like a sword over our necks, I’ve gotta end this.

Right here and now.

Gotta set things straight.

“Guess I started thinking, maybe it was best if you left after all. This town is a black curse for some folks, and maybe if you were gone, its darkness wouldn’t take you, too.”

The way she listens so intently, I can tell she’s taking it all in.

Turning it over, letting it sink in.

She’s always been better at this feelings shit than me.

Absorbing what other people say, thinking it through, using her heart to guide her to the right answer.

I bet it made her one hell of a nurse, too. The kind of bedside saint every patient needs in their darkest hour.

I give her time to think, to decide how to answer me.

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