I MARRIED MY ENEMY FOR REVENGE

Cracks in the story

"No." I shook my head. "You're trying to mess with my head, Shadric, and I won't let that happen."

I stepped back so quickly that the back of my leg struck the balcony chair. My thoughts were moving too fast to hold onto.

"Don't do that."

Laughter drifted from inside the house, strangely normal against the tension between us.

He stayed where he was, watching me carefully.

"I'm not trying to confuse you."

I let out a bitter laugh. "That's exactly what you're doing."

"You disappeared for years, then suddenly came back talking about hidden truths like I'm supposed to believe you?"

"You think I'm lying."

"Aren't you?"

He dragged a hand through his hair.

"You still trust him that much?" he asked.

My brows pulled together. "Don't."

"Why?"

"Because you don't get to talk about Ryan."

His eyes returned to mine slowly. "Why not?"

"Because unlike you," I snapped, "he was actually there for me."

He looked away for a second, then back at me.

"There for you?" he repeated quietly.

"Yes."

"He stayed after everything happened. He was the one who helped me when everybody else mocked me."

"And did you ever stop to ask yourself why?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You said he was there for you afterwards," Shadric said. "I'm asking you to think about what happened before."

"What happened before?"

"What prompted you to write the letter?"

I stared at him.

Ryan had.

The answer came so quickly that I hated it.

"That doesn't prove anything."

"I didn't say it did."

"Then why bring it up?"

"Because you keep telling me what happened as though you saw every part of it yourself."

"I saw enough."

"You saw what happened after the letter was already out of my hands."

I turned towards him.

"And somehow that makes you innocent?"

"No. It means there are things you don't know."

"Things you've had seven years to tell me."

"You wouldn't speak to me."

"You keep saying that like I owed you a conversation."

"You didn't."

That unsettled me.

I had expected him to argue. To blame me for leaving, for refusing his calls, for shutting every door between us.

Instead, he stood there.

"Then stop using it against me."

"I'm not. I'm telling you why you never heard my side."

"Maybe I didn't need your side."

"Then why are you still standing here asking questions?"

"Stop it, Shadric."

I turned towards the balcony rail.

For seven years, the story had been simple.

Shadric hurt me. Ryan helped me survive it.

Now Shadric was asking questions I had never asked myself.

I tried to remember the days before everything happened.

Ryan told me I couldn't keep hiding how I felt.

Ryan insisted that writing it down would be easier than saying it to Shadric's face.

I was rewriting that stupid letter until every sentence said exactly what I wanted it to say.

None of that had ever seemed important afterwards.

Why would it?

Ryan had been my friend.

Shadric had been the one standing in that room.

I turned back to him.

"You're trying to make Ryan part of this because you know I trust him."

"I'm asking you to remember."

"I remember enough."

"Then that shouldn't frighten you."

"I didn't say I was"

"Good."

I hated that answer.

"You really expect me to believe this now?" I asked quietly, staring out into the dark compound.

"I expect you to finally question the story you've been holding onto all these years."

I laughed.

"Convenient timing."

"You think this is easy for me?"

I turned around immediately. "Easy for you?"

"You don't get to stand there acting wounded after what you did to me."

"And you think I don't know that? Do you think you're the only one who suffered?"

"I know what it did to me."

"That wasn't what I asked."

"You really believe I never cared about you?" he asked quietly.

The question caught me somewhere I didn't want it to.

Seven years ago, I would have given anything to hear him say he cared.

I had spent months reading meaning into every conversation, every smile, every moment when he chose to sit beside me.

Then the letter happened.

Whatever I thought had existed between us became another thing I was ashamed of.

I wasn't seventeen anymore.

And he wasn't going to drag that girl out of me simply because we were getting married.

I stared at him in disbelief.

"What exactly do you want from me?" I asked. "Forgiveness? Sympathy? Because you suddenly decided to tell me some dramatic hidden truth?"

"That's not what this is."

"Then what is it?"

"This marriage changes what I can keep pretending doesn't matter."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"That what you believe about me matters."

I laughed.

"Only because you forced your way back into my life."

"I didn't force you to say yes," he said.

He was right.

Nobody had forced me to say yes.

I had done that myself.

"You don't know why I agreed," I replied quietly.

"Then tell me."

I looked away.

"You don't deserve an explanation."

"Fair enough."

I looked at him.

"That's it?"

"What do you want me to do, Avalan? Force it out of you?"

"You seem very interested in why I said yes."

"I am."

"Why?"

He took a moment before answering.

"Because nobody agrees to marry someone they hate without a reason."

My breath seized.

He was getting too close.

"Maybe I have one."

"I'm sure you do."

"And you're not worried?"

"Should I be?"

I almost smiled.

If he knew why I had really said yes, he wouldn't have asked that so calmly.

"Probably."

Before he could respond, my mother's voice came from inside the house.

"Avalan!"

"We're cutting the cake!"

I stepped away from Shadric before anyone came looking for me.

I turned towards the house.

"Avalan."

I stopped.

"You still haven't answered my question."

I looked back at him.

"Which one?"

"Who told you I gave your letter to someone else?"

I said nothing.

"Think about it."

I walked back inside without answering him.

But this time, the question followed me.

Because I was beginning to remember who had told me.