Finally he sets me down on the bed, holding me tightly as I collapse against him, too exhausted to fight anymore.
“Go tell him he’s a coward. Say it loud and furious so he can’t ignore it. If you don’t, he’ll just keep hiding. He’ll never grow up. Where’s the Nova who never listens to what she’s told? Where’s her courage? Maybe Vincent was a coward, but why don’t you show him what it means to be brave? You’re the woman here. You’re the one with the guts,” His hand strokes my back gently.
“I—I...” I pull back to look at him, my eyes red and swollen. “I just tore up all his photos.”
“You can tape them back together.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Nova Marshall
PAST (2019)
"Everybody else shares the same cloudy sky."
Joe Walsh
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“Can you explain what the hell is going on with you?”
I grab Vincent by the wrist before he can slip into the music room and run away from me again.
He’s been acting strange since his birthday. If before he was avoiding me, now it’s even worse. I never manage to catch him, and when I do, he suddenly remembers some excuse to get away.
He went to visit his grandparents with his parents for Christmas break and only came back last week. The night of his birthday, I didn’t get the chance to show him the college acceptance letter or the plane ticket, because the next morning he was gone. I was still half-asleep, but I remember his face—streaked with tears.
The last time I tried to ask what was wrong, he told me that hearing about Aurora’s accident had shaken him. But I knowthose are just lies. We were all shocked when Aurora came back to school unable to see, but her blindness doesn’t explain why he’s pushing me away like this. It’s obvious something else is going on.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, looking anywhere but at me.
“I’m talking about you avoiding me like I’m the plague. What’s the problem? Don’t you like me anymore?”
He stays silent, and I can feel my blood boiling. How can he be so indifferent? “God, Vincent, what the hell is wrong? Is it because I told you I’m in love with you? Bec—”
He cuts me off immediately. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
Vincent shoves his hands deep into his jean pockets, staring at the floor. “The problem’s that what we’re doing... it’s not good anymore. I’m becoming dependent on it, and Dr. Jenkins says it’s not healthy for me. He says whatever this is between us is too much, that I’m not ready for a relationship like this. Maybe we should...”
My throat tightens. “Should what?” I whisper.
“Listen, Nova, I’m not enough for you right now. I can’t give you what you want. Honestly, I don’t think what we have can be more than just sex. It’s better if we—”
“Why don’t you just admit you’re tired of me and that you want to fuck someone else? And how do you know what I want?”
“I just know that I can’t give it to you,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my forehead before slipping into the music room—closing the door, and his heart, right in my face.
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•*?? . ??? ??.•*??
I stand frozen, staring at the door, my chest hollow. Then the rage comes, sharp and desperate. I tear the plane ticket into a thousand jagged pieces, my hands trembling, then shred the college letter too until the floor around me is littered like some cruel snowfall. Confetti of broken dreams.
I wipe at my face with shaky fingers, smearing mascara across my cheeks, and turn blindly toward the window. The school garden outside is washed in pale winter sunlight, but I can’t feel any of its warmth.
My heart is a clenched fist. My lungs won’t open.
