“You’re impossible, you know that? You’ve been torn up over this for days. I was fixing it for you.”
“Well, maybe I don’t needfixing!”
My chest burns hot with anger and embarrassment.
“That’s not what I?—”
“I’m not your pet project, Hayes!” I snap. “I am who I am, whether you like it or not. You don’t get to mold me into whoever you think I should be.”
“I wasn’t?—”
“You get everything,” I cut in, the words tumbling out fast and ugly before I can stop them. “The money. The charm. The perfect family. The golden boy life. You win just by existing. Me?” I laugh, bitter and hollow. “I have nothing. No money. No dad. Probably no future. So forgive me, please, if I don’t want your charity. Orhers.”
The air between us goes still. His eyes flash with something raw—hurt, maybe frustration. Maybe both.
“That’s not fair. You know I love you just the way you are.” The anger drains from his face, replaced by something tender. Something more vulnerable. “I just…” He hesitates, eyes searching mine. “I want you to be happy, okay?”
“I am happy! So fucking drop it already!”
He jerks back, like I slapped him.
“Fine.” His voice goes flat. “Got it. Sorry I bothered you.”
He turns and walks away.
As I watch him retreat into the chaos of the party, regret and shame slam into me. Not slowly. Not gently. All at once. Sharp and immediate, like a punch to the ribs.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Hayes is the only one actually standing in my corner. The only one trying to help without wanting something in return. And I just treated him like he was the enemy.
Worse, I can already picture how this ends.
Hayes drifting back toward Amber because it’s easy. Familiar. Safe. And me all alone, having pushed away the one person who never asked me to be anything other than myself.
“Hayes, wait?—”
I rush after him, weaving through the crowd, my pulse racing. I just need to find him. Apologize. It’s not his fault my sister makes me feel like I’m nothing,or that I might care about him in ways I shouldn’t.
But when I finally see him again, he’s already with Amber. Their fingers are laced together as they head up the stairs toward his bedroom. A door slams shut on the second floor, and my stomach hollows out painfully.
I stand there for a few moments, motionless, still watching the space where they disappeared. I know exactly what it means.
It’s time for me to go.
On the way out, I cut through the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and a piece of Greek baklava for stress-eating. God bless Kora. She always makes sure her kitchen is stocked with everything I’m not allowed at home—sugar, gluten, all the good stuff. And she insists Dimitra keep a fresh tray of baklava ready for me at all times, just in case I get a craving.
I sink my teeth into the sweet pastry, letting the honeyed walnuts melt on my tongue. The first bite is warm and safe. It doesn’t fix everything, but for a moment, it dulls the sting. Even from halfway across the world, Kora still manages to take care of me.
Pulling out my phone, I type a quick text to Hayes.
I suck. Forgive me?
I add a smiley face and a black heart, then stare at the screen while I chew, willing him to respond. But the message stays unread.
A sick feeling of dread crashes over me.
What if this was the last straw?
