Something in me cracks, and my eyes sting. “Then tell me... why are you forgiving me so easily? Why do you and Nova always manage to forgive me so quickly?”
He leans back, finally releasing my hands, though his eyes never leave mine. “I don’t know. I can’t speak for Nova. Maybe it’s just because it’s you. Without you, both of us would be lost. Honestly? Without you, I wouldn’t even know what to do. Nova went out of her way to make me her friend. She faced the fear her bullies tried to plant in her. And you—you welcomed me into your house like I was family. Maybe we’re not blood, maybe we’re opposites, and yeah, we’ve hurt each other more than we should have. But I love you, V. That’s the truth. And the three of us... we’re family, right?” His voice is tentative, almost afraid of the answer.
I feel the corners of my mouth lift, slow but certain. My chest tightens, not with pain this time, but with something gentler. “Yes,” I whisper, the word tasting like truth. Then stronger, so he can’t ever doubt it again: “Yes. We’re family.”
He smiles too. “And besides, you’re forgiving me quickly too, whether you realize it or not.”
I frown, confused. “I have nothing to forgive you for. Nothing.”
Steven shakes his head, stands, and heads for the counter. The soles of his sneakers squeak faintly against the tile. He pulls two sodas from the fridge, then sets one down in front of me. The cold seeps through the aluminum into my shaking fingers.
“I’m talking about the things I said that day,” he mutters, eyes fixed on his own can. “I was just angry. I didn’t mean it.”
I crack my Cherry Coke open and take a sip, the fizz burning my throat. “I know, Steve. I’m just saying maybe you could—”
“I’m not going to therapy,” he cuts in, sharper than before. His tone softens quickly. “Not right now. And you, instead—”
“I’m leaving next week.”
The words drop between us like glass.
Steven jerks his head up, eyes wide. He almost chokes on his sip of soda. “What? When?”
I set my can down, my hands trembling. “I agreed to go to a rehabilitation center. In Pennsylvania. I leave on the twenty-fourth.”
His mouth opens, then closes. He stares at me like I’ve stolen the floor from under his feet. Finally, he whispers, “On Christmas Eve...”
I nod, forcing the words out. “This time, I’m not leaving forever. I’m leaving so I can come back. After I find myself. My happiness... So I can come back better.”
“What does Nova think?” he asks carefully.
The question punches the air from my lungs. “Steve...”
His eyes narrow. “Are you two together now?”
I stand abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. I start pacing, running my hands through my hair, unable to breathe. “I don’t—”
He stands too, stepping toward me, his voice sharp with urgency. “Tell me yes. Because I didn’t just pour my heart out for you to keep busting my balls with this whole unrequited, impossible-love thing.”
I stop pacing, meet his eyes, and finally let it out.
“She doesn’t even want to see me.”
Before I can blink, Steven smacks the back of my neck—hard.
“Hey!” I growl, rubbing the spot. “What the hell, man?”
He just rolls his eyes and sinks back into the chair like a disappointed parent who’s seen this movie one too many times.“You deserved that. She told me herself, by the way. I already knew she didn’t want to see you. I was just waiting for you to grow a spine and admit how royally you’ve screwed up. Again.”
I groan, dragging my hands through my hair, tugging at the roots. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t fucking know what’s wrong with me. I just—” My voice cracks, and I look away. “You know what kind of disaster I am, Steven. I don’t want to ruin her life.”
“Ruin her life?” he repeats, scoffing, leaning forward like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You’re already ruining it, genius. You don’t get to play the tragic martyr while she’s the one paying for your self-pity. You’re hurting hermoreby walking away than you ever could by trying and failing.”
I open my mouth, but he doesn’t let me speak.
“Do you even realize what you’ve done to her?” he goes on, voice rising. “Maggie called me the night of your birthday. She said Nova came home bawling her eyes out. You know what she does now? She spends every damn night listening to sad music and eating tubs of ice cream until she can barely move. She cries herself to sleep, Vincent. And it’s not the kind of crying you can fix with flowers or an apology text. It’s the kind of crying that breaks something in you.”
The words hit harder than his slap. My stomach twists as guilt floods through me, hot and choking.
