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And I immediately feel her.
Standing upright again, I hear an intake of breath and turn, spotting her
dark form sitting with her knees bent up in the corner of the room.
She shoots off the ground and charges for me. “Get out.”
I take in her red and wet eyes, her rumpled sleep shorts and tank top
with tear drops soaking through the pink fabric, and her hair hanging in a
mess around her. She looks like she’s been crying for hours.
But still, that temper of hers is there.
I step toward her. “Where are the letters?”
“Get fucked!” she bursts out. “I burned the letters!”
I whip around and slam my hand into the wall.
“Stop!” she whispers. “My mom will hear you!”
“I don’t give a shit,” I say, turning around and getting in her face. “You
belong to me more than you ever did to them.”
She shakes her head, eyes filling with tears again. “How could you do
this? I was supposed to trust you, and this whole time, you were right here,
watching me. You ruined everything!”
“I didn’t come to Falcon’s Well for you,” I shout back, bearing down on
her. “But believe me, I’m not sorry. What a waste of time you were all these
years. Now I know.”
She chokes on a sob. “Get out.”
But I can’t leave.
I never thought I’d make Ryen Trevarrow cry, but both times I have, it’s
been in the past two weeks.
We kept writing because we needed each other, because we made the
other one’s life better. But even after knowing her for years, it took no time
for me to break what we had.
We were perfect for each other.