Page 76 of Second Sin

OLIVIA

Ishould’ve just gotten in my car.

Kept my head down. Driven home.

Pretended none of this mattered more than it should.

But I see Sebastian across the lot. Keys in hand. Walking toward his car like he can just leave this behind.

And I move. No thought. Just rage, set in motion.

Because he went around me. Decided for me. Like cleaning up the mess meant stripping me of the choice to handle it myself—like I wasn’t capable.

And I’m angry that I let him close enough to matter.

That Iwanthim enough to make this all hurt.

That I keep drawing a line I never really mean to hold.

My feet slap the pavement too loud. Too fast. My hands curl into fists before I realize it, nails biting skin. My heart’s pounding out a warning I ignore. There’s a sharp, bitter heat in my chest—grief, guilt, want—all tangled in a knot I can’t undo.

Thunder cracks somewhere above us. The sky feels tight. Electric. Like it’s bracing for a break that’s already coming.

He’s halfway to his car when I call out.

“Sebastian.”

He stops.

Turns.

His expression doesn’t change. Calm. Quiet. But I know that calm. I’ve seen it slip. Seen what it hides when he thinks no one’s looking.

“I went to Coach's office to resign today,” I say, my voice cold and shaky. “And you’d already been there.”

A beat.

His jaw ticks. But he doesn’t answer.

I step closer. “You think you were doing me a favor? You weren’t. You took something from me.”

“I did what I had to.” His voice is low. Frayed. “Because I knew you wouldn’t fight for this.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I?” There’s heat now—quiet, simmering. “You’ve had one foot out the damn door since the second this got real. Like you’ve been waiting for a reason to run.”

“That’s not fair.”

“You denying it?” His eyes lock onto mine—stormy and unblinking, full of everything he won’t say out loud.

And he’s right. God, he’sright.

I’ve been running since the moment I felt something that scared me. Since the first time I looked at him andwanted. Since the kiss that should’ve never happened, and the night I should’ve never let myself have.

Because he’s not Ethan. He never will be.

And I don’t know how to let go of that.

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