“Don’t give up on her.For what it’s worth,” he said, “she’s not as okay as she pretends to be.”
He held my gaze for a second longer, then nodded once and walked away, disappearing into the crowd like he’d never been there.
26
Tone
Three weeks felt like a lifetime when you were trapped inside it.
I marked them in small ways.
The way the house started to feel too tight.The way silence stretched longer between conversations.The way my brother watched me like I was a fragile butterfly that might shatter if he blinked wrong.
Raze hadn’t let me leave.
Every time I mentioned going back to my own place, he shut it down like it wasn’t even up for discussion.Too dangerous.Too exposed.Too much risk with Michalo Machado still out there, circling like a vulture waiting for the right moment to strike.
So I stayed.
In his house.Under his roof.Under his constant, suffocating watch.
It should have felt like protection.Instead, it felt like a cage.
And every day that passed, the anger simmered hotter beneath my skin.Not loud or explosive.Just… constant.A low, steady burn that never quite went out.
Because no matter how many times I told myself he was trying to keep me safe, he’d still taken something from me.
A choice.Him.
I pushed that thought down the same way I had for the last three weeks.Hard.Relentless.
Because it kept coming back.In the quiet moments.In the spaces between breaths.
Archie.
I hadn’t seen him.Hadn’t heard from him.Not a single word.
Which should have made things easier, but somehow it didn’t.
It made my pain worse.Because now all I had was a memory.
The way he looked at me before he left.The way I let him leave.
I stared at my phone more than I cared to admit.I drafted messages I never sent.
Are you okay?
Deleted.
We need to talk.
Deleted.
I’m sorry—I miss you.
Deleted faster than the others.
I refused to be the one to cave.Refused to be the one who went running back after I’d made my choice.Even if that choice felt like it was slowly killing me.
