Fuck.
I pressed my palms to my face.
That had gone too far. Dragging up the worst thing that had ever happened to Henry like it was ammunition? Jesus.
I needed to take that back. But the stubborn, prideful part of me—the part that refused to give ground when I’d stood up for myself—kept my hands in place.
Because he had lied. Maybe not outright, but enough.
And underneath all of it, something else twisted in my gut.
Sebastian.
What Henry had pointed out—Sebastian blaming things on him—was manipulative, sure. But that wasn’t exactly new. And the rest? It shouldn’t have meant anything—it shouldn’t havechangedanything—but something didn’t sit the same anymore.
The way Sebastian had looked at me this morning… I hadn’t imagined that. It wasn’t nostalgia. It wasn’t loneliness. It felt different. Like maybe I hadn’t been the only one gutted by the break. Like I wasn’t the only one who’d never really gotten over it.
My head tipped back against the door.
Everything was a fucking mess. This shit with my dad and being basically homeless was fucking with my head. No matter how much I wanted to make it go away, the truth was that the funds in my account were running lower every day. And theresentment felt uncontrollable. I’d outgrown all of this, but lately my patience felt paper-thin.
Every part of my life was pulling in different directions, and I was running out of ways to hold it all together. Henry’d been the one constant these past years—the one person who’d been there for me through everything—and I’d fucking lashed out at him mercilessly. No way in hell was I going to keep living here after that. And now what? What the fuck was I supposed to do now?
I dragged in a rough breath, pushing my hair back, trying to center myself, but before I could get even a little bit there, there was a soft knock behind me.
“E?” Henry’s voice came through—gentler, smaller. “I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes tightly.
There was some shuffling behind the door. “Can we try that again?”
The floor creaked softly outside before I opened it.
He was standing on the other side, looking sheepish. “I should have told you about it,” he said quietly. “You were in a bad place, and I just thought… I thought it was better to distract you. Help you move on. Not keep dwelling on it. But I was also kinda terrified you’d hate me.”
My shoulders sagged. “I don’t hate you. And I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that. It wasn’t fair.”
His lips curved into a small smile. “Look at us. Being all mature and shit.”
I chuckled, the anger bleeding away as his grin widened.
“I’m sorry for bringing up your dad and the cheating,” he said, his face shifting into something more serious. “That was a shit move.”
“Don’t even. I said something worse.”
“You were right. Kinda.” He let out a small, humorless laugh. “Turns out I love making comparisons but don’t notice them ifthey’re about me. It was hypocritical. And I want you to know I really haven’t tried to interfere again. You know, besides making you two meet the other day, but apart from that, I haven’t. It’s really fucking hard, in case you’re wondering.”
I huffed. “I get it—it would be hard on me too. I wish you would’ve told me, but I didn’t need to yell. Sorry.”
He leaned on my doorframe, arms crossed. “What’s up with you?” His tone was softer. “You’ve been all over the place since we got here. Snappy. Is it just this whole thing with Ash?”
My throat went dry.
And now is when you’re supposed to tell him.
Tell him.
I swallowed hard. “Yeah. Just the stuff with him. My head’s kind of a mess right now. It’s not an excuse.”
