When he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper. Fragile.
"Please... don't go."
A pause. A shaky breath.
"I can explain."
I stay still.
His voice lingers in my ears, unwelcome. It slips beneath my ribs, testing the fragile hold I have on my anger.
I can explain.
What exactly can he explain?
Is there anything left to explain that won't unravel into another beautifully told lie?
He lied.He stayed silent. He let me fall for him while hiding the truth of who he really was.
My hand rises, trembling with the effort. I pry at his fingers, trying to break free from the cage of his arms around my waist. My nails dig into his skin, hoping the sting will force him to let go.
Instead, his grip tightens.
Stubborn. Desperate.
His fingers bunch the fabric of my shirt, refusing to release me as though I'm the only thing keeping his world from falling apart.
I throw everything I have into breaking free—every ounce of strength left in my weakened body.
Nothing.
