“There’s clearly nothing keeping you apart but your own bullshit. I’ve watched you both suffer for years—”
“It’s not that simple—”
“Nazeera,” I say, irritated. “Enough. You said your piece to me earlier; I’m going to say mine to you now. I want the truth. Why is it so impossible for you guys to give it another shot?”
She finally relents with a groan, squeezing her eyes shut as she releases the drawcords, pulling the hood away from her face. “Because,” she says. “I already tried.”
I blink. “What?”
There’s a sudden commotion outside; voices rising. I peer out the window, distracted, but I’m not paying enough attention.
“I already tried,” she says again. “I tried working things out between us. Twice. He won’t take me back.”
Oh.
Shit.
“What?” I say again, dumbfounded.
Voices grow louder in the yard, and I glance again toward the noise, but I can’t focus. I feel like reality is being rewritten in my head.
“That’s impossible,” I say to her. “He’s obsessed with you.”
“No,” she says, and laughs sadly. “He’s not.”
“Trust me, he’s definitely—”
“You don’t know enough about our history,” she says, cutting me off. “You were so young—”
I look up at another burst of noise, voices carrying, and I crane my neck to peer out the window. When I see that it’s Kenji and Warner arguing, I relax a little.
Perfectly normal behavior.
Even better, Warner is home early.
“Things are more complicated between us than you think,” Nazeera says, drawing my focus again. “I was—Look, when Kenji and I first got together I was immature and stupid.” She presses her fists to her eyes. “Never in my life had it occurred to me to sit down and sort out my issues, because I didn’t even know I had issues. I was used to living in chaos. I was used to being messed up. I was used to blood and torture and violence. I had no idea I was an emotional idiot.”
Outside, Kenji shouts, “This is a betrayal of trust!”
I frown at the open door, trying not to be distracted by the distant argument. “Okay, that’s fair,” I say, returning my eyes to Nazeera. “But I think you might be remembering things differently, because Kenji’s never said a single bad thing about you or your relationship—”
“That’s because he’s such a decent guy,” she says in an aggravated burst. “He’s still protecting me from my own bullshit.”
“What?” Now she has my full attention. “What do you mean?”
“I was a moron when we first met.” She pulls the drawcords of her hoodie again, a turtle back in its shell. “I was smart enough to recognize that Kenji was amazing, but totally unequipped to be in a healthy relationship. I liked him so much I did everything wrong.” She hesitates; releases the cords. “Did he ever tell you that I almost killed him by accident?”
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “But I’ve never heard the full story.”
Nazeera laughs, but it’s more of a sigh. “See? Such a nice guy. Kenji probably didn’t want you to hate me.”
I draw back. “Am I about to hate you?”
“I don’t know,” she says, slumping in her seat, sounding resigned. “It’s kind of a long story, but the short version is that I was trying to keep him safe and I accidentally poisoned him nearly to death.”
I frown. “Okay, not great, but that’s not so—”
“Then, because I felt terrible that I’d poisoned him nearly to death,” she goes on, “I snuck into his room while he was sleeping. I wanted to check on him to make sure he was okay, but I was too proud to own up to my mistake and do it in broad daylight, so, instead, I broke into his room in the middle of the night like the worst stalker. Then, when he realized someone was in the room with him and understandably freaked out, I attacked him. Literally attacked him. I nearly killed him just because I was so embarrassed he’d find out I was worried about him.”
