She hadn’t meant what? To say it? To mean it? To dig under my fucking skin and lay me bare?
I turned slowly, jaw ticking. “Didn’t mean what, Vi?”
“You did the right thing.”
I closed my eyes. That should’ve eased the weight pressing against my ribs.
But it didn’t. It just made it worse.
I let out a slow breath, forcing my hands to my hips. “Right. Glad to hear it.”
Violet sighed, stepping closer, but I kept my eyes shut. Didn’t trust myself to look at her.
“Griffin,” she whispered.
I shook my head. “No. You don’t get to say that and act like it changes anything.”
I finally looked at her. Big mistake. Her brows pinched, lips parted like she had something else to say, but couldn’t find the words.
Like she wanted to fix this.
Fix me.
I let out a short, sharp laugh. “You always do that.”
Her brow furrowed. “Do what?”
“Say the thing you think will make it all better.” I tipped my head back against the door, swallowing hard. “Like it’s some magic fucking phrase that stops it from hurting.”
“It was the truth.”
“Yeah?” My jaw clenched. “Doesn’t feel like it right now.”
“What would?” Violet stepped closer, her tone softening.
I released a slow breath, dragging a hand through my hair.
Nothing.
Nothing would.
Because this wasn’t just about Callaghan. Or the press. Or Julian and Selene trying to control the damage.
It was everything.
The way Hazel landed in my arms before I had a chance to brace for impact. The last five weeks of trying to hold my world together with fucking duct tape, carrying it all alone because no one else was supposed to give a damn.
Except Violet did.
I hated how much I needed it.
I swallowed, voice rough. “Forget it.”
She took another step, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her body, close enough that I could smell the faint trace of her shampoo, some sweet, maddening thing that made my head swim.
“I don’t want to forget it,” she murmured.
My fingers twitched. I dragged my gaze to hers, my pulse pounding in my ears. She wasn’t backing down, wasn’t giving me space to bury it.
