Dearest

Old wounds

Nothing?! Are you kidding me right now?" Silas scoffed through the receiver.

​"Yeah. I said nothing," I replied coldly. "I didn't feel like it, so I didn't call you." I kept my voice firm, but internally, I was repulsed. He is doing way too much, I thought to myself.

​"Miss... come to my house right now. We need to talk," he demanded, his tone dripping with that familiar, suffocating possession.

​"I'm busy," I said, and slammed the end-call button, cutting the line completely.

​What the hell is all this about? He's getting entirely too comfortable, I muttered angrily to myself, throwing open my car door and turning the ignition. I slammed my foot on the gas, heading straight toward his place.

​I pulled up to his house in less than thirty minutes. Because I still had the spare key, I didn't bother knocking—I just unlocked the door and barged straight in.

​What is the meaning of all that? I demanded, the anger boiling over the second I saw him.

​All what? Silas asked casually, picking up a bottle of white wine from the counter.

​"'Come to my house right now,'" I said, pitching my voice to perfectly mock his arrogant tone.

​"You know exactly what that was, and what it’s always been," he said. He locked his eyes onto mine, maintaining a fixed, unblinking glance as he poured two glasses and held one out to me.

​"I don't drink from the enemy's cup," I spat. I grabbed the glass only to slam it down hard onto the coffee table, keeping my furious gaze locked on his face. "We are co-workers. Not friends. Not lovers. And don't you dare think for a second that I have forgiven you for what you did."

​I walked past him and threw myself onto the living room couch, trying to stop the shaking in my hands.

​"Alright," he said quietly. He didn't argue. Instead, he picked up the glass I rejected and gulped down both his wine and mine, one after the other. He set the empty glasses down and walked over to the couch, leaning in closer to me. "You know why I love you?"

​"No. I honestly don't know, and I don't want to," I snapped, deliberately looking down at my hands and pretending to examine my fingers to avoid his eyes.

​"You loved me," Silas whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "But... you gave me up for your sister. A sister who cares about the fame and nothing more. For a moment, Lyra, I thought there was finally someone who actually knew me. Who saw me. I thought you were going to be mine. I thought we'd spend the rest of our lives together.

​The hypocrisy of his words made my blood run cold. I stood up, the indifference completely shattering.

​So... was that the reason you r***d me? I demanded, the anger tearing through my throat as I desperately tried to hold back the burning tears in my eyes. Huh?! Was that why?!

​Silas flinched, the casual facade completely dropping. "You're right to be mad. You're very right, and I know I don't deserve your love. But just give me one chance to make it right. Just one chance, Lyra... I promise you, I won't fail you. His eyes actually started to water, looking pathetic.

​God help me, I had loved him once. And it had been a lot. But there’s always a trailer before the main movie plays, right? I had gotten a terrifying trailer of exactly who Silas really was, and the scar he left inside me still throbbed every single day.

​Was that why you left? I asked, my voice dropping to a broken whisper. This time, I couldn't stop the tears from spilling over my lashes. You violated me, left me, and ran all the way to Texas. Was that your way of making it right?