I scuttle back, standing abruptly. "What are you doing? This is you trying to get back at me in some sort of twisted way?" I whisper.
His brows furrow. "Now, why would you think that?"
You literally just told me you weren't a very forgiving person. You literally just broke my f*****g heart. You literally just tore down my walls and thoughts, the shield I had around my mind.
It doesn't help that I know Sinclair, and he is true to every word he speaks. This scares me.
My hands go clammy, and I swallow. "I don't...I can't do this now. I need time to process this. You can't just...spring this on me and--"
"Say yes," someone says from the crowd that has formed around us, taking photos and videos, oblivious to the tension between Sinclair and I; oblivious to the underlying problem growing
