“No,” I say quietly, more to myself than to them.
They were already watching me, but now their attention intensifies at that one word of denial.
I push back from the table before any of them can latch onto the word. The legs of the chair scrape loudly against the floor, drawing even more attention.
“I have a class in ten minutes. I need to go.”
“Pix-” Court starts.
“I mean it.” I look at each of them in turn, forcing myself to hold their gazes even when it hurts. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. You’re not going to change your minds today. I’m not going to change mine.”
“Then we keep talking,” Thayer says immediately, like that’s the most obvious solution in the world.
I shake my head. “No. We don’t.”
Because if we do, I might crack.
Because if we do, I might say yes.
And I don’t trust what happens to me—to my body and my heart—after that.
“We’ll figure something out,” Forsythe says, softer now. Maybe he believes that.
I don’t.
“You already did,” I reply. “You made your choice.” I turn before they can respond, before they can pull me back into it again, rushing across the cafe toward the door.
“Ren-” Piers tries, the scrape of all their chairs against the ground and the growing distance nearly drowning it out.
I don’t stop.
The bell above the café door chimes as I push through it, the warm air hitting my face like a reset.
They follow. I know they do.
But they keep their distance this time, trailing behind me, exchanging whispers.
When we reach the studio, they stop in the parking lot, lingering by their car.
Letting me enter alone.
Episode 16: Crying in the Castle
Florence
“How’d it go today?” Haven asks, head poking over the back of the couch when I enter her house. I sigh as I move to join her, arching a brow at her set up. Blankets, pillows, snacks, an alpha rubbing her feet as she strokes a hand over her swollen belly.
God, I’m so jealous of her.
And I hate that.
I want to only be happy for my friend. She deserves this happiness and more. So much more.
Hale looks up from where he’s digging into her arches. “Did they behave themselves?”
I shrug and perch on the arm of the couch near Haven’s head, reaching down to stroke my fingers through her hair, absently. “Well, enough I suppose. They mostly just hung out in the parking lot.”
My best friend peers up at me with worried eyes. “Did you talk to them? Figure out what you’re going to do next?”
