“I’m not lying.” Valeria’s voice breaks. Her phone feels heavier by the second, a lead weight dragging her down. “You’re turning this into something it isn’t.”
Brooke lets go abruptly, shoving Valeria’s chin away instead of releasing it gently. A low, angry grunt slips out of her as she turns her head like she can’t stand to look at her.
She starts pacing the room in short, sharp steps, hands flexing at her sides, as if all her anger is balled up there.
“I’m not asking again.” Brooke stops in front of Valeria.
She extends her hand quickly, and Valeria flinches so hard she knocks her own hand against the wall, pain blooming bright and sharp. She curls inward instinctively, shoulders hunched, bracing for a grab that doesn’t quite come.
When she looks back toward Brooke, her hand is suspended inches from Valeria’s wrist. For the first time, something like uncertainty cracks her expression.
“Jesus,” Brooke mutters. “What is wrong with you?”
Silence stretches as Valeria’s heart hammers.
Brooke straightens, slowly backing off, and Valeria lets out a slow breath.
“You’re acting like I’m going to hurt you,” she says.
“Are you?” Valeria asks, the words tumbling out before she can think.
The question surprises her. It pulls something loose in her chest and drags up memories she’s spent a long time pressing down. Flashes of Brooke’s hands, of the bruises that followed, fill her mind.All accidents,she reminds herself, but her thoughts don’t ease. Since the cabin, there havebeen times when Brooke’s anger has left a mark—something she hasn’t told anyone. She barely thinks about it herself. Usually, she shoves it so far back that she can pretend it never happened. In moments like these, though, it feels impossible to ignore them, not when it seems Brooke is on the verge.
Brooke’s jaw tightens. Her hands clench, then loosen, but she ignores the question.
“Give me your phone,” she says again, softer this time, which somehow makes it worse and terrifies Valeria to her core. Something inside Valeria hardens.This can’t be my life, she thinks. Living like this, shrinking under someone else’s voice. This fear isn’t okay.
Valeria’s fingers close around it through the fabric of her pocket. Her pulse thunders in her ears. She pulls it out, her hand shaking, and presses it into Brooke’s palm.
Brooke exhales through her nose. “Thank you,” she says, thumbs flying as she types in the code and unlocks the screen.
“You’re not going to find anything,” Valeria says, her voice cracking, her heart battering her ribs like it wants out. Fear crowds her vision, but she plants her feet anyway. “And when you don’t, I want you to leave,” some fierce and reckless part of her says.
“What?” Brooke lets out a short laugh, not looking up from the phone. “Valeria, be serious.”
“I can’t do this anymore,” Valeria says, the words tearing their way out of her chest.
Brooke keeps scrolling through. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Brooke, I’m serious.” Valeria’s chest feels too tight, like there isn’t enough air in the room. The fear is still there, but she locks it down and turns it inward until it fuels her.
“You’re breaking up with me?” Brooke looks up with an icy gaze.
“No. I’m asking for a break, a moment to process.” It’s not what she wanted to say; she wanted to say,Yes, I’m done being afraid of you. But it feels like too much of a gamble, too final to speak to someone who loses their cool in seconds.
“No,” Brooke says. “You cannot have a break. You either work it out with me or not at all.”
“Brooke, I can’t do it with you around.” It hurts to say it. It hurts so badly she almost takes it back. Almost.
“Why?” Brooke screams, her eyes full of anger. She throws the phone, and it lands with a soft thud on the couch.
“Because you scare me,” Valeria says, the words slipping out before she can think better of it.
“What?” A vein in Brooke’s neck starts throbbing.
Valeria’s hands shake, and her lungs are on fire, but she lifts her chin even as a sob catches in her throat. She’s decided to do this, and she can’t back down. She needs to stand up for herself, no matter what Brooke might do.
“I want to feel safe, Brooke, but I don’t. I wake up bracing myself. I rehearse what I’m allowed to say. I track your moods like weather patterns.” She lets out a broken sigh. “I’m so tired of being in survival mode with you.”
