Pausing, I wait in case she is going to elaborate. She doesn’t.
‘You used to want me,’ I choke out, and the weight of her gaze hits me like a sledgehammer. I feel it everywhere, all at once, settling deep in my bones. She is truly embedded in me. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, and why my love for her has twisted into this all-consuming obsession. She was on my mind from the moment I left the country, of course she was – she was ingrained in my thoughts for a long time before then – but ever since she turned up at this house, the obsession has been getting worse with every day. ‘Tell me, what do you want now?’
‘I want to be happy,’ she tells me earnestly. ‘I want to focus on myself. Achieve the goals I’ve set, make great friends and memories, and be truly, genuinely happy.’
‘I want that for you too,’ I agree, the water lapping over my chin as I sink lower, losing my concentration on treading water for a moment. Those long legs of hers softly kick under the surface, and they’re extremely distracting.
‘Good,’ she murmurs. ‘Then stop all of this.’
My heart sinks. ‘All of what?’
‘This chasing and possessiveness, when you probably just want one night of fun to get me out of your system.’
My jaw drops open at her words. I wait for her familiar smile to appear, or her warm laugh – one of my favourite sounds in the world. But her face remains impassive. This stoic expression, which she wears constantly around me now, isn’t her. This isn’t the Anya I remember. Hurt and betrayal shine in her eyes, and I want nothing more than to rid her of these feelings, but I know I’m one of the people who caused them in the first place.
‘You think that’s what I want?’ I ask, incredulously. ‘One night with you?’
She releases a bark of laughter. ‘Of course that’s what you want, Mason.’
‘Why the hell would you think that?’ I exclaim. Part of me is furious she thinks so little of herself, but mostly, that she thinks so little ofme.
‘Why do you think?’
I swallow. ‘You think you mean as little as one night in my bed? You really think that of me?’
‘Yes, I do, Mason.’
‘Are you lying to me right now?’ I breathe hard as we face each other. Her dark, cool eyes bore into mine, making me feel as if a tendril of ice has wrapped itself around my heart, squeezing it until the pain punctures a hole inside my chest.
‘No.’
Closing my eyes, I clench my jaw, trying to process what she is saying. I know I hurt her, but I didn’t realise the extent of it until this moment. And I feel crushed all over again.
‘Look, Mase,’ Anya says after a minute, exhaling a sharp breath. ‘There’s a lot of tension and history here. I’m not denying that I was in love with you, but I’m a different person now, and too much time has passed. We live together and share some classes. Zayden is your best friend. We will always be in each other’s lives because we both love Zayden more than we love ourselves. I know that was my main reason for never letting my love for you consume me, but you never loved me like I loved you, and I’m sick of you acting like you did now that years have passed. What happened can’t just be swept under the rug and forgotten. You hurt me, more than I could have ever imagined, but I’m over it. Let’s just ... call a truce.’
I stiffen, hardly able to breathe any air into my lungs. The fact that she’s still gazing at me with that expression ofnothingspeaks volumes. I’m truly hearing her. What I did caused irreversible damage, and that knowledge is going to eat at me until there’s nothing left.
Usually, I have to stoop a little to look down at her, but here in the water, we’re eye-level, and it’s making this conversation much more confronting. Her eyes haven’t left mine, and I have no idea how my face looks right now.
‘A truce,’ I repeat, unable to digest all the other words she just threw at me.
‘Yeah. Let’s just ... go back to being friends.’
‘Friends.’ I don’t recognise my own voice.
‘Yeah. Since that’s all we ever were, anyway,’ she says. ‘Right? That’s what you used to tell everyone.’ She leans in close, her cold, empty smile looking all kinds of wrong on her pretty face. ‘I’m just a little sister to you. Remember?’
I flinch. I have never felt like this. Reduced to absolute fucking ruin. The silence is thick and suffocating. After a moment, she gives me a stiff nod, looking satisfied with my lack of response.
‘Yeah,’ she murmurs, rolling her lips into her mouth. ‘That’s what I thought.’
She moves away from me, and I’m too stunned to do or say anything.
I have never regretted anything more in my life than how I treated her. And I will never forgive myself for it.
15
ANYA
