Page 52 of Light My Fire Three Times
The words land like a punch to the gut. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Isn’t it?” He takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “You bend over backwards to make her comfortable. You argue with me in her defense.”
I snort, though it feels forced. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Don’t do that,” he snaps, sharper than I’ve heard him in a long time. “Don’t joke your way out of this. She’s been here five minutes and already you’re choosing her over me.”
Heat flares in my chest, the kind that makes my temper rise faster than I can reel it back. “I’m not choosing anyone. I’m just being decent to someone who needed it.”
Leo’s eyes flash, and for a second, I think I’ve said the wrong thing. Then I realize I have.
“Just being decent,” he repeats, flatly.
I scrub a hand over my face, wishing I could pull the words back, but it’s too late. So, I double down, because that’s what I do when I’m cornered. “Yeah. I mean… we’ve only been on one date, Leo. One. You’re acting like I’ve signed my life away to her. I was just being kind. Don’t twist it into something it’s not.”
Something shifts in his expression. It’s small, almost invisible, but I catch it. The tightness around his mouth, the way his shoulders go rigid.
He thinks I don’t mean it. He thinks I’m not serious about her at all.
That might shut up whateverthisis.
Leo shakes his head slowly, like I’ve just proven him right about everything. “Exactly what I thought,” he mutters.
“Leo—”
But he’s already turning away, rinsing his mug out at the sink with clipped, efficient movements that cut me out of the conversation entirely.
The rift isn’t loud, not like a slammed door or a fist through drywall. It’s quiet. Heavy. The kind you feel in the way silence lingers long after the arguments are over.
And for the first time in a long time, I don’t know how to bridge it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Olivia
NOVEMBER 28TH
I didn’t meanto overhear.
The walls in this place aren’t thin, but the voices were raised, sharp enough to cut through plaster and my slightly open bedroom door.
I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, not really. But the second Karl said it, I couldn’t unhear it.
We’ve only been on one date, Leo. One. I was just being kind.
It loops in my head, repeatedly, like the crack of a glass spiderwebbing until the whole pane shatters.
Kind.
That’s all it was. A kindness, like holding a door open for someone or picking up their dropped groceries. A gesture with an expiration date. I’d let myself believe it was more. That the way he looked at me across the table last night meant something. That the warmth in his smile was meant for me, not just anyone who happened to need cheering up.
I’m a fool.
I sink on the edge of the bed, fingers twisted tight in the blanket. My chest aches in a way that has nothing to do with smoke inhalation or bruised ribs.
It’s something deeper, more humiliating. Because I had built this story in my head, that maybe Karl had seen me. Perhaps I could matter to someone in a way that wasn’t tied to my mistakes, my failures, or my endless list of should-have-beens.
But it turns out I’ve been wrong. About him. About this whole situation.
