“I’m trying to protect you.”
“From what?” I demand again.
His silence is louder this time. More deliberate. And I realize?—
He’s choosing not to tell me. Not because he can’t. Because he won’t. The betrayal stings more than I expect.
“You don’t trust me,” I say quietly.
He flinches. Just barely.
“It’s not about trust,” he repeats.
“Stop saying that,” I snap. “Because it’s exactly what it’s about.”
I shake my head, frustration boiling over. “You show up out of nowhere, act like you’re responsible for my safety, and then refuse to tell me what’s going on. That’s not protection, Archer. That’s control.”
His eyes flash. “I’m not controlling you.”
“You’re trying to,” I shoot back. “You’re trying to scare me into doing what you think is best.”
“Because itiswhat’s best,” he says, his voice rising slightly for the first time.
“For who?” I challenge. “For me? Or for you?”
That lands. I see it. He goes still, something dark and conflicted flickering behind his eyes. I press forward, sensing the crack. “Is this about you not wanting me here? Because if it is, just say that.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
Silence. Again. God, I hate that silence.
“You know what?” I step back, throwing my hands up. “Fine. If you’re not going to be honest with me, then we’re done having this conversation.”
“Tessa—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You don’t get to pull me into whatever this is and then shut me out when it matters.”
His expression hardens.
“Believe whatever you want,” he says.
And just like that?—
He shuts down. The wall slams back into place, higher than before.
“Wow,” I say, disbelief cutting through my anger. “That’s really your move? Walk away?”
“If it keeps you safe,” he replies coldly, “yes.”
Something twists painfully in my chest.
“Then go,” I say, my voice quieter now, but no less sharp. “If that’s all you’re going to do.”
For a moment, I think he might stay. Might fight. Might finally tell me the truth. But he doesn’t. He turns?—
And leaves. The door clicks shut behind him. And just like that, he’s gone.
