Page 47 of Twisted Violet
For a while, we say nothing. Then, without warning, he reaches into his jacket and sets something beside me. A bracelet. It’s black, handwoven, with a small dark stone set in the center.
“Is that for me?”
He shrugs. “It’s black tourmaline, figured it’d match the whole gloomy-loner thing you’ve got going on lately.”
I laugh once, softly, and slip it on.
It fits perfectly, like it was made for me.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” he says. “Different.”
I pick at thewrapper of my tart. “I’ve been thinking.”
“About?”
“Just… stuff.” I say, averting my gaze.
“Did something happen?”
I shake my head. “Not really. I just talked to my sister.”
His jaw flexes. “And?”
“She said some… things.”
“What things?”
I fidget with the bracelet on my wrist, trying to delay my answer. “That I’m confused. That you guys are just being nice and I’m misinterpreting your kindness for… something else.”
He goes quiet for a long moment. Then says, “Do you think that night meant nothing to me?”
“What?”
“That night when we brought you home from the hospital,” he says, his voice lower now. “When you asked me to stay.”
My stomach dips and I freeze.
I thought that was Dallas.
My grip tightens on the box in my lap, the cardboard creasing under my fingers.
The warmth, the safety, the way I finally let go.
It was all Rome and I never knew.
He held me when I broke. Hestayed. He even went out to get me donuts in the morning, and I was a jerk to him.
My chest tightens.
I can’t believe that was him.
“That night meant something to me, Violet.” He says, his voice is low, steady, like he’s releasing a confession that’s been weighing on his chest for too long. “Still does.”
I meet his eyes, and something in me cracks.
I don’t think.I can’t.Not with his words echoing in mychest.Not with the way he’s looking at me, like he’s waiting to see if I’ll believe him.
So I move. Not fast, not certain, but honest.
