His hand snags my wrist, spins me back to him, his face urgent. "I didn't sleep with her when we were anything. It was before us. Way before. I swear."
"Right. Great. That makes me feel so much better." I yank free, blinking back the sting in my eyes before that asshole sees it. "So you sleep with all your female friends, except me. What a privilege!"
"Emma! We had a deal." He grabs me again, tighter now, eyes imploring me. "You were the one who said I couldn't kiss you. Remember?"
"Maybe I wanted you to kiss me anyway!" The confession explodes out of me with no permission, straight from some reckless corner of my heart.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Too late to reel it back.
Ben staggers back like I've fired a shot and his eyes hold mine for a beat before his head tips skyward, and he mutters:"Dio mio."More to himself but I hear it and stomp.
"What?!"
"Nothing!" he snaps, his jaw grinding. "Just trying to pray the damn commandments back into my skull."
I laugh bitterly, right in his face. "Perfect. Go do that."
His eyes blaze hotter and he stabs a finger at me. "This. This is what you did. Drove meinsane. Said we should be friends. Every goddamn day. And every time I touched you ortried anything, you pulled back. 'Gentleman, you should be a gentleman,' you said, and I fucking listened—"
"I didn't—" I cut in, then instantly bite my lip to stop myself.
"You didn't?!" he shouts. His eyes narrow. "Lie to me again."
I don't. Won't. It was fear, it was pride. I don't fucking know. Maybe it was the devil on my shoulder whispering,let him cross the line, no questions asked,like I dreamed he would.
I just really wanted him to want me.
But somehow Ben conveniently edits himself out—the whole worship of staying single-sane-unattached. How he treated me like I was his bro at times. Every promise. Every flake.
So I stay quiet because we're broken in a way that apologies don't fix. I just watch him pace, back and forth, kicking the same patch of sand. Until he stops, turns, and his eyes burn into mine.
"You broke me," he spits out, jagged. "You broke me in a way you'll never understand."
It knocks me back because maybe I won't understand but damn me, I see it—the brutal hurt in his eyes that wasn't there before. It feels like a claw on my throat, stealing my breath, because I would never want to...
"Ben... I didn't know. I'm—"
"You couldn't call before you said yes? Talk to me?!" He cuts me off, steps closer, his face fierce. "I had to see it online. Your engagement photo. Your smile. His goddamn hand around you!" He curls his fists, shoulders bristling. "And me, what?Blocked. Erased. Everywhere. I couldn't even reach you! You know what that did to me? You're vicious!"
My scream tears out, feral. "I AM vicious? You had eight weeks." I jab a finger at him. "EIGHT WEEKS to text or call after our fight! You ghosted! Like always!"
"You told me to delete your number! Said you didn't want to see my face!"
"Stop blaming me!" My fists curl so hard my nails bite skin. "I spent years—years—trying to decode every look. Every word. What I meant. Where the hell I even stood with you!"
He barks a harsh laugh. "Oh yeah? Well, where do you stand now? 'Cause from where I'm standing, you're on a private cliff with me, looking like a goddamn piece of candy, and you're yelling at me.At me!"His hands slam his chest. "The only person who's ever actually understood you."
I freeze, wanting to tell him to shut up, that he has no idea what's tearing through me, and I'm not good at holding that magnitude, but he keeps firing.
"So sure," he spits, breath ragged, eyes narrowed. "No mistakes? Right?"
"You know what? I'm done with you!" I spit fire and sprint toward the cliff edge.
"You're not!" His voice lashes after me. "Just admit it!"
"What?!"
