“I don’t want you here,” I snap. “You’re the reason I’m like this.”
That lands.
I see it hit him.
Something cracks behind his eyes, but it does not turn into anger this time.
It turns into something worse.
Guilt.
Raw and ugly and useless.
“Get out,” I say again.
After a long moment, he turns.
He does not slam the door.
He does not say another word.
He just leaves.
The door clicks shut behind him, and the sound feels permanent.
For a few seconds I stand there staring at the empty space where he was, and my body feels like it might collapse inward.
Then movement catches my attention.
Declan is still standing near the wall, his arms crossed, his expression tight.
“Get out,” I tell him too.
“No.”
“I’m not in the mood for orders,” I snap. “Leave.”
“I’m not leaving you alone,”
