I was wrong about the anger.
His eyes are dark and his jaw is tight and he looks like someone who has been holding something for a very long time and just — ran out of room.
• • •
He crosses the space between us in two steps and shoves me — hard —
back against the wall.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
His voice is rough.
Wrecked.
• • •
Something in me snaps.
“Tell you what?” I fire back. “That I’m gay? Why — so you could do what you always do? Get close and then pull away like none of it meant anything?”
My voice shakes.
I don’t care.
“I tried, Cassian. Every time I tried you shut it down.”
I step into him.
“You said you needed me. On the roof. You looked me in the eyes and said —”
My voice breaks.
I push through it.
“Don’t act like you didn’t know. And then you went back to her. Like I imagined it. Like you didn’t say anything to me at all.”
• • •
He stares at me.
Something working in his jaw.
“I thought we were best friends.”
“That’s the only way I get to have you.” My voice drops. “So I take it. I make myself fit into whatever shape you need me to be. I pretend it’s enough.”
• • •
“Ro —”
“It’s not enough, Cassian.” My chest is heaving. “It hasn’t been enough for a long time and you know it.
You’ve always known it. That’s why you came to the roof. That’s why you say the things you say and then act like you didn’t. Because you know.”
I stop.
I’m shaking.
