“It’s not like that,” I say, my voice quieter now, almost pleading, though I hate how it sounds.
“Then what is it?” she demands, her voice breaking, the anger giving way to something deeper—something that twists in my chest like a blade.
“You stand here, acting like Jason is the problem, but you’re no different,” she continues, her words cutting into me. “At least I know where I stand with him. With you, it’s always a guessing game. Your mask keeps slipping, and I’m so tired of trying to figure out who you really are.”
Her words tear into me and I feel them in my gut like a blow I wasn’t ready for. All I can do is stand there, facing the weight of what she’s just thrown at me.
“You think I don’t know what I’m doing?” I snap, shaking with the force of everything I’ve been holding back. “You think it doesn’t make me sick to touch her? Like I want to tear my own fucking skin off because all I can think about is you? Every second of thisdamngame—this tightrope I’m walking—feels like it’s ripping me apart.”
I step closer, as the words pour out.
“You have no idea how badly I want to fucking take you. Toclaimyou. To make you mine so completely that no one would eventhinkabout touching you, let alone looking at you. You’remine, Lailah. You are all I’ve ever fucking wanted.”
“Then tell me!” Lailah’s voice breaks, trembling with desperation.
She steps closer, her eyes locking onto mine, filled with a mixture of anger and something deeper.
“Say it, Casper! Tell me the truth! Tell me why you broughtherhere, why you keep doing this!”
I freeze, her plea crashing into me, pressing against every part of me that wants to break, wants to give in. Her voice softens, but it trembles, the vulnerability in her words snaking its way through the cracks in my resolve.
“I’m begging you,” she whispers, her throat tight with emotion. “I want to understand, Casper. I want to choose you, but how can I when you keep shutting me out? When you can’t even be honest with me?”
The atmosphere is stifling, thick with everything I’ve left unsaid. My jaw tightens as I look away, my fists clenching at my sides, the truth desperate to escape but held back by everything I can’t risk.
"You're asking for something you don't want the answer to."
Her expression hardens, but the unshed tears in her eyes reveal the struggle beneath.
“I’m asking for the truth,” she says softly, fighting to stay steady. “Because if you can’t give me that, then what’s left?”
The silence that follows is deafening, every second stretching out into an eternity. My throat tightens as I try to form the words, but they stay lodged deep inside me, buried beneath everything I can’t risk saying. When I finally look at her, the pain in her eyes is enough to undo me.
“Lailah…” I whisper, but my voice breaks.
She exhales like she’s letting go of something she doesn’t want to lose. She steps back, and her expression shifts—from fury to something far worse.
“That’s what I thought,” she says quietly, her voice flat but laced with resignation.
She turns away, leaving me standing there, drowning in the truth I can’t give her.
“No,” I breathe, my voice desperate and unsteady.
Without thinking, I move quickly, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back toward me with a force that surprises me. She stumbles slightly but doesn’t resist, her body colliding with mine. My arms encircle her instinctively, one hand cupping her face as I hold her close, desperate to keep her from slipping away.
Her breath hitches, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and anger, but I don’t let her go. My forehead presses against hers, our faces so close I can feel the warmth of her breath against my lips.
“Don’t,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “Don’t you dare walk away from me.”
Her body is tense, rigid against mine, but I can feel the rapid beat of her heart as her chest rises and falls against me. My thumb brushes her cheek, catching the faint dampness there, and I force myself to meet her gaze.
"Lailah," I whisper, my voice unsteady, like something breaking apart inside me. "This isreal."
I tighten my grip, not enough to hold her there, but enough tomake her feel it—to make her know I mean every fucking word. My fingers tremble against her skin, my chest tightening with something unbearable.
"You know it is." The words scrape from my throat, not just a plea but the truth, a godsdamn certainty. "Don’t fucking do this. Don’t stand here and act like you don’tfeelit, like you don’t fuckingknow."
I lean closer, searching her face, looking for something—anything—that tells me she isn’t slipping away, that I haven’t lost her already.
