I scoff, the anger in my chest flaring. “No, what’s not fair is that you’re always quick to blame me for everything, for not doing things the way you want them done. I mean—you blamed me for our father’s death, dammit!” The words come out quick, but I don’t regret them.
I take a deep breath, feeling a decade’s worth of resentment bubbling up. I don’t know if I’m glad of it, or absolutely terrified. “You’ve always been selfish. You’ve always let bad things happen to me. Since we were kids, Naomi!”
Her face reddens, the pale hue vanishing in a flash of anger. It’s like a switch has flipped inside her. “Oh my god. Seriously? The bullying? We were kids! We didn’t know any better, we made mistakes.”
“And you seriously think things have changed since then?” I ask, my gaze fixed on hers. There’s no softness left between us, just this bitter, festering wound we’ve both refused to address for too long.
She stares at me in disbelief, as though I’ve grown horns. “Of course they’ve changed! What are you saying?” She throws up her hands, pacing a few steps away before spinning back around. “God, what’s wrong with you?”
I shake my head, a laugh escaping my throat. “You think I like being the responsible one? You think I enjoy putting everyone’s needs before mine? I’ve spent my entire life taking care of you and Sam, sacrificing my own happiness, and for what? So, you can stand there and treat me like I’m some tool for your convenience? Like I owe you everything?”
Naomi’s lips curl into a mocking smile. “Oh, poor Addie, always the victim. Maybe if you weren’t so busy playing saviour, you’d actually have a life. Mason figured that out years ago.”
My fists clench so hard my nails dig into my palms. I can feel the crescent-shaped imprints they leave, but the pain barely registers. “You have no idea what I’ve given up for you all. You have no right to throw that in my face. And you absolutely don’t know a thing about Mason. Or me.”
Naomi steps forward, close enough that I can feel her breath, and we’re inches apart. “You’re right, I don’t. Because you never let anyone in,” she says, her voice dangerously calm. “You’ve built those walls so high you don’t even see we’re out here trying to climb them.”
“And why do you think I built those walls, Naomi?” I ask, looking her dead in the eye as I say it, and watch as her face pales.
Naomi looks stunned, her lips parting as if to speak, but nothing comes out.
I take a slow breath, my jaw tightening. “You say I never let anyone in, but maybe it’s because every time I do, they either leave or make me regret it. So tell me, Naomi, why would I? I didn’t choose this. I didn’t wake up one day and decide to sacrifice my life for this family. I just… did it because no one else would.”
Without another word, I turn on my heel and start walking away. I can feel her gaze burning into my back, can hear the slight catch in her breath like she wants to call me back, but I keep moving.
“Addie!” she calls after me, but I ignore her, quickening my pace instead.
But suddenly, her hand clamps down on my shoulder, yanking me around with a force that catches me completely off guard.
Her fingers dig into my arm, the already scarred one, and I flinch, instinctively pulling back, but she doesn’t let go. Slowly, I turn my head, my heart pounding in my chest.
Naomi’s eyes flash with fury. “You don’t get to walk away like that,” she hisses, her grip on me tightening as her nails press into my skin. The way she says it too… so raw and desperate, and so unlike her.
My pulse quickens. “You know, they’re right about you,” I spit out. “You’re nothing more than a selfish bitch.”
Naomi freezes, her eyes widening in shock. I notice the shift in her expression, the unraveling, and it’s then that I realize just how close to the edge she is.
We both are.
For a second, time seems to stop. And then, with a sudden, jerking motion, Naomi shoves my arm downward. It isn’t hard enough to hurt—but it’s enough.
Enough to throw me off balance.
My foot slips on the top step. My body tilts forward, and in that instant, everything slows. I see Naomi’s face—her wide, horrified eyes—as I stumble, my arms flailing desperately for something to hold on to.
But there’s nothing.
The world tips violently, and I fall.
TWENTY-FIVE
Ihit the floor hard and for a few moments, there’s nothing—no sound, no thought, just white-hot pain flashing through every nerve like lightning.
There’s this dull ringing in my ears, which is annoyingly persistent. And my body screams at me, every nerve, every bone, but I just lie there stunned.
Did that really just happen?
The realisation seeps in slowly, like cold water creeping into my veins. Did I seriously just get thrown down my own stairs?
