My smile turns sharp. “Careful, Vi. Keep pushing and I’ll prove you wrong. Hope you’re ready to be thoroughly entertained.”
Her phone buzzes on the counter. The moment shatters.
She glances down, and everything about her changes—shoulders stiffening, grip tightening, and the playful spark draining out of her expression like someone pulled a plug.
My stomach knots.
She hesitates, then turns and steps onto the balcony. The air cools instantly, the warmth slipping away before I can catch it.
I almost follow her with another joke. Almost pull her back into it.
But something about the way she walks away—too fast, too controlled, and fingers pressing hard against her temple—keeps me where I am.
Damn it.
Instead, I stay at the counter, staring at the space she left behind. Already thinking. Already planning. Because now that I know she can loosen up, I’m not letting her disappear again.
The teasing dies completely when I step outside.
She’s standing still, phone lowered, and eyes fixed on the city like it’s the only thing anchoring her. I join her, the cool air doing nothing to ease the sudden weight in my chest.
“Hey,” I say, quieter. “What’s wrong?”
She exhales, wrapping her arms around herself. “I hate this. Not being able to tell Ella anything. Pretending everything’s fine when it isn’t.”
I grip the railing, knuckles tight. “I know this is hard.”
“It is,” she says softly. “I miss her. And I hate feeling so… alone.”
The words hit harder than they should.
I’ve been so busy watching her fire, and her sharp tongue, that I assumed she was fine because shelookedfine. But she isn’t. She never was.
She’s been holding everything together since she was a kid. Losing her parents. Raising Ella. Carrying weight that was never hers to begin with.
And now I’ve done it again.
Guilt settles in, heavy and unwelcome. I didn’t mean to hurt her—but intent doesn’t matter much when the damage is already done.
She stands there holding herself together, and I know I can’t let this keep happening.
“I’m sorry, Vi.”
She looks at me, surprise flickering across her face, but I don’t give her time to respond. I squeeze her shoulder gently, lingering just long enough to make sure she feels it before stepping away. Grabbing my keys from the counter, I head for the door, but my mind is nowhere near work.
As I head out the door, I steal one last glance at her standing on the balcony, with the city stretching out before her. I’ve made up my mind—I’m going to be better for her. No more making her feel like she’s on her own.
Chapter 33
I Lit the Fire and He is Letting Me Burn
Violet
The routine I have fallen into is suffocating. The same four walls, the same silence, and the same nagging ache in my chest. I wake up alone. I move through the day alone. And by the time Asher comes home—if he even bothers—I’ve already convinced myself that I don’t exist to him beyond whatever purpose I serve in his grand scheme.Jesus Christ, now I am calling this place fucking home. Great.
I don’t know why I did it—why I pushed first, or why I wanted to see how far I could take it before he snapped. Maybe I liked the thrill of it, the way his eyes darkened just a little, and the way he let me think I had the upper hand. Or maybe I just wanted to shake something loose inside him, to prove that I could get under his skin the way he always gets under mine. I liked the game. Liked that for a moment, it felt like we were something else—something less sharp, and less raw. But then the phone call came, and everything shifted. My mood went from breathless and flushed, to cold and caged, a world away.
The guilt coils tight, an invisible chain, wrapping me up in all the things I can’t say. Because of Ella.
