Chapter 12:

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He turned around. Slowly, like a man approaching a door he’d rather not open.

His jaw was tight. His hands hung at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling. When he finally met my eyes, his expression was that of someone bracing for impact.

“Iris, I can’t accept you breaking off our engagement. I’m willing to dedicate myself completely to taking care of you, but letting you go—that’s truly impossible.”

Impossible. He said it with such conviction, as though the decision were his to make.

“Did you know that the day of the accident I called you twice, and you rejected both calls?”

Silence.

“Now, everything you do only reminds me that at that moment, while I was on the ground unable to move, you were at Nyx’s house, taking care of her.”

𝗥o𝗺𝘢𝗻c𝗲 𝗻𝘰𝘃𝗲𝗅𝘴 𝗼𝗇 𝗀a𝗹𝘯𝘰𝘃𝖾ls.cоm

He flinched. A small tightening of the muscles along his forearm, the involuntary kind. When he spoke, his voice was lower, rougher.

“Iris, listen to me. I grew up with Nyx Thorn. I consider her like a sister, so taking care of her has become routine. That day, Nyx really wasn’t well…”

“When has Nyx ever been well?”

I didn’t shout. I said it slowly, spacing the words, giving each one room to land.

“On my birthday, Nyx said she felt sick, and you left all your friends to stay with her. Do you remember what that looked like? Me at a table surrounded by your colleagues, explaining why the host had vanished. They pitied me, Stellan. Some of them laughed.”

“When I was hospitalized for the allergic reaction, Nyx called you—you told me later it was because there was too much dust in her house and it was suffocating her. You drove to her apartment. You left me alone in a hospital bed, attached to an IV, unable to walk to the bathroom by myself. A nurse had to help me. A stranger.”

“There are too many situations like these, Stellan. Can you give me a single example of when Nyx was well and didn’t interfere in our lives? One. I’ll wait.”

He looked at the floor. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. Nothing came out.

The satisfaction of watching him struggle surprised me. It was sharp and quick and tasted wrong, and it faded almost immediately into a tiredness so heavy I wanted to close my eyes.

How many times had I swallowed this? How many birthdays, how many hospital stays, how many phone calls that went unanswered? And every time, I had talked myself into patience. Into understanding. Into one more chance.

“Oh, now I remember,” I said, and my voice had gone very quiet. “Nyx Thorn was at her best when we were arguing.”

“She always made sure to position herself between us, disrupting our relationship.” I paused. “Stellan, do you really not see this?”

His lips moved. He wanted to speak. He wanted, I think, to defend himself, or defend her, or say the thing that would make this stop.

His phone rang instead.

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