The words hit harder than I expected, sharp and unforgiving, sinking beneath my skin before I could brace for impact.
"I can't let him take what's already mine again."
Mine.
I swallowed against the sudden, unexpected sting in my chest, my pulse a steady roar in my ears. He was talking about Loraine. Of course, he was. Who else would he mean?
The weight of my own foolishness settled in, thick and suffocating. I had let myself linger in fleeting moments—on the way his gaze held mine during the song, on the unexpected softness in his voice when he whispered "It was beautiful", on the brief touch of his lips against my cheek.
I had let myself believe—just for a second—that maybe, maybe, there was something there.
But I had been wrong.
He had meant her.
With my heart pounding so fiercel
