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“Because the rest of me knows what happens if I open the wrong one.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means what happened in the study is one fucking room inside a house full of damage, Charm.” I press one hand against my chest. “If I open that trapdoor tonight, everything I locked beneath it comes out. Every night, every choice, and every ugly fucking thing I had to do to survive you. I will spew that pain across this room until there is not a beautiful piece of anything between us left standing.”
Her eyes fill, but she refuses to look away. “Maybe I deserve to hear it.”
“This is not about what you deserve.”
“I need to understand.”
“And I needed one night where loving you didn’t feel like reopening a wound!”
The force of my shout moves through both of us. Charm’s lips part, but nothing comes out.
I pace toward the windows and shove both hands into my hair. “I know what happens if I tell you tonight. I’ll get furious. You’ll cry. I’ll want to comfort you and hate myself for wanting it. Then I’ll remember another thing you did, another promise I believed, and I’ll tear that open too.”
“You are already furious.”
“Your father called my mother a whore.”
“I know.”
“He tried to make Briggs believe he is broken.”
“I know.”
“He told Cade that loving me dragged him into the gutter.”
“I heard him.”
“Then why the fuck did I have to come find you?”
Charm’s face twists. “You told me to stay out of it.”
“And somehow you turned that into a punishment instead of hearing what I needed.”
“You didn’t need me.”
“I needed you to listen.”
“I was trying to defend you.”
“I never asked you to defend me. I asked you to respect one boundary while I confronted the man who made moving on with my life impossible.”
“You said that fight had nothing to do with me.”
“It wasn’t yours. There is a difference.”
“Everyone keeps telling me what isn’t mine.” Charm wipes one hand beneath her eye. “Lance’s choices weren’t mine. The investigation wasn’t mine. The photographs weren’t mine. My mother’s decision wasn’t mine. Your suffering isn’t mine. Somehow every piece of this happened because of a relationship I was half of, but I am the only person who isn’t allowed to know anything.”
“My suffering does not become yours because you helped cause it.”
The words land. Charm’s chin trembles, but she holds my stare.
“You want access to my pain because knowing it would give you something to do,” I continue. “You could apologize for each piece, explain your part, and convince yourself that understanding it means you finally have control over what happens next. I am not giving you that.”
“I don’t want control.”
