Page 238 of Ruin Me Gently

I didn’t need hugs or soft words. Or someone to wipe the dirt off my skin.

I didn’t need my mommy.

I didn’t even want to go outside.

Didn’t need to be in the world, didn’t need anyone but me.

I was fine here. I was fine alone.

I exhaled slowly, forcing the air out, trying to breathe past the crush in my lungs. My fingertips brushed over my locket, and I twisted it, rolling the cool metal between my fingers.

It was stupid. All of it.

I wasn’t locked in. I wasn’t trapped. I could leave. If I really wanted to, I could take that elevator down, walk right out the doors, step onto the street and disappear into the city. But I wouldn’t.

Because, yes, I was afraid of what was out there. But I was more afraid of what I’d already let happen inhere.

Somewhere between the nightmares and the stolen moments of warmth and the way he always,always,reached for me in his sleep—I’d let it happen. I’d let myself feel safe. And now, I was paying for it.

The worst part? I knew he wasn’t doing it to hurt me.

I knew he wasn’t playing games, or pulling away, or shutting me out on purpose.

I knew he was distracted, consumed, obsessed with catching one of the few people who had me flinching at shadows.

I knew he was doing thisfor me.

But it didn’t make it any less frustrating, or make it sting any less when I reached out and he wasn’t there. It didn’t stop the anger from weaving its way into my bloodstream, because I hadn’t asked him to do this.

I didn’t need him to save me.

I didn’t need saving, period.

I didn’t needhim charging into battle, throwing himself at the mess like he could somehow carry the weight of it all on his own.

I needed him here.

I needed him on the couch, one arm slung over me while we watched some ridiculous rom-com he swore he hated, even though I caught him smiling at every single one.

I needed him acknowledging my existence. Acknowledgingme.

I just needed him tostay.

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR

Sweat dripped down myspine, pooling at the base of my back. My skin burned, every inch of me tingling, thrumming. I rolled my shoulders, trying to breathe through it, but the tightness in my chest only worsened.

My fingers dug into the fabric of my leggings as I braced my hands on my knees, trying to gain some semblance of dignity.

I was seeing double. Or maybe that was just death approaching.

“You’re still leading with your wrist. You’re gonna break your damn hand before you break anyone’s face, dude.”

I wheezed. Not in response—just in general, and without looking up, lifted one shaky hand, middle finger raised. “Shut the fuck up, Finn.”

This was a mistake. A horrible, life-altering, body destroying mistake.

“Right. Get up. Come on,” he said. “First, fix your stance. Feet apart. Balance your weight. Hands up.”

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