Page 146 of Bring You Back

She yanks out of my hold again. “I asked you to be honest with me. Sobe honest.” Her eyes search my face, waiting for my honesty, but I need her to give me a better starting off point. When she hears nothing but my silence, she gestures back toward the house. “She comes back and you just trade me off like we didn’t have something?”

“We didn’t have something,” I say, and I might as well have slapped her. I’m sending those arrows I know all too well straight from my chest to hers. But she wants the truth, and I know how truth works. We have to fall apart so we can put us back together. “Even without Camille, if she hadn’t come back, we didn’t have something,” I continue. “Wedidsomething.Idid something.” I sigh, my voice lower. “Something I shouldn’t have.”

“You really did need a body,” she whispers, her eyes falling from mine, latching onto some spot behind me. Her mouth moves around silent words that look likeOh my God, then her eyes are back on mine, her voice stronger. “So, what? I was justhere?”

“I was hurting, Reyna.” I know my pain is just an excuse, but it’s all I have. My reasons and hope that somewhere down the road she can understand. “And I wanted to give you what you wanted. I wanted to try—”

“You wanted to do me a favor,” she concludes, and I shake my head.

“I wanted to stophurting. Everyone was letting me down, not caring how I felt, leaving me. . .” I stop the list there, not wanting to deep dive back into my own shit.

“Not everyone,” she says pointedly, knowingly.

I feel myself sag with defeat as I step closer to her. “I wanted it to be you. I wanted us, all right? I did. But—”

She takes another step back. “Did you think about her while you were with me?”

My mouth forms theNo—I don’t have to tell her that, a piece of knowledge that won’t change or fix anything. But I can’t say it. And she hears the truth in my silence, her hand flying up to stop it from coming out.

“Actually, don’t answer that,” she says with a flinch and a shake of her head. Her hand drops, bounces against her leg. “You apologized. After our first kiss.” She scoffs at the memory, staring off as it replays for both of us. “I was so happy, so in the moment that I didn’t get why. . .” she trails off as the realization comes full force, and her eyes glide up, connecting hard with mine. “You knew what you were doing.” Her jaw sets and she comes at me. “You should’ve had yourflingwith some random girl,” she says as she shoves me back. I stumble, then regain my balance, bracing myself as she shoves me again.

One—

Two—

Three more times.

I let her punish me this way. Use my body to soothe her frustrations. I don’t have a right to stop her considering I’ve done something similar.

When she wears herself out, the tears come. And I want to catch them with my fingers. Like I have before. Butbeforeno longer exists for us, and I have to commit to the distance.

“You were supposed to be my friend,” she accuses, and my failure is another arrow, piercing my gut.

“Iam,” I try, despite that failure. “Everything just got so fucked up!” I gesture to myself, lean in with my next words. “I’mfucked up, Reyna. There’s nothing wrong with you, it’sme,” I tell her, the words I should’ve said back in the kitchen the other night. “I like you. A lot.”

“But you don’t love me,” she finishes, wiping her cheeks with another step away from me. She steels her spine, like she knows what I’m about to say, and she’s bracing herself.

I shrug, helpless, my tone defeated. “I can’t help how I feel, Reyna.”

She nods, scoffs a laugh. “Well, you can help what you do. You knew. You knew I’d want more.”

As I watch her wipe away another tear, I can’t help but think what she knew. How she started acting when Camille came back around. How she saw us almost kiss last year. How down I was after Camille left. How hurt when she cut us off. I keep saying Reynaknows, because she does. She knew. And I have to say it.

“You knew I wouldn’t.”

A breath parts her lips, her eyes wide before they narrow. “You’re not seriouslyblamingme. . .”

What?I repeat my words in my head, try to figure out how she could twist them to mean something I wasn’t thinking. How she could possibly come to that conclusion. I was referring to her knowing how I felt about Camille and choosing to look past it. Of course I wouldn’t intentionally blame Reyna for my asshole behavior, so I try to backtrack. “That’s not what I meant. I’m notblaming—”

“Youkissedme,” she argues, reminding me of what I shouldn’t have done.

“I know,” I say. “And I shouldn’t have—”

“I hate you,” she chokes out. “I hate both of you.”

She takes one last step back before she hurries off, and a heaviness settles in my chest. To see the hatred on her face, in the way she fled from me.

She hates me.

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