twenty-eight

883 60 3
                                    

♫ I been tryin' to move onAnd it's obvious that I can'tIt was my fault we're broken ♪(Jojo—Think about you)

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

♫ I been tryin' to move on
And it's obvious that I can't
It was my fault we're broken ♪
(Jojo—Think about you)

No words formed in her mouth. None that would justify her conversation with Michael, and how she'd heavily implied she had no plans to break up with him any time soon. And against her promises to Ryan... who'd likely heard the entire chat and was waiting for her to fumble with yet another excuse to delay their full-blown relationship.

"RyRy..." She gulped away the acid bubbling over her tongue. "I was going to tell you about it, I—"

"—tell me what?" He remained in the doorway, refusing to move closer, but not backing away either, standing his ground. "That you had no intention of ending things with Michael, and you have been stringing me along, as I claimed weeks ago?"

"No." She waved her arms, sensing a frantic fluster flurrying through her veins as she hopped off the bed and hastened up to him. He didn't budge, gawking down at her from up high, proud and pissed. But she noticed his body inclining away from her, and a slight sneer swiping over his once soft expression. "No, not that. I do still intend to... end it." She cringed at her hesitation. "But I was referring to him moving here. To New York."

"Right." Ryan snorted. "Nice job telling him not to. Nice job keeping a distance between you two." He shoved past her and set the mugs on his dresser, then turned to her, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why didn't you stop him? Tell him the truth? I don't care for the guy, but fuck, Cora. You're going to destroy him if you don't prevent him from making such a drastic decision. I thought you didn't want to hurt him?"

Coralie's arms shook so greatly that they caused her to wobble side-to-side. She fell onto the edge of the mattress with a weak sigh and struggled to glance at Ryan, who was fuming, smoke evaporating from every inch of his bronze skin. "I didn't. I don't. But it's... this is something he has wanted for a while, so I... didn't know how to stop him."

Ryan pivoted to the mirror near the corner of the room; and in the reflection, Coralie caught him bunching his lips and sucking in a deep breath through his nostrils as he squeezed his eyes shut. "You do. You do. Yet you keep evading that discussion." He spun sideways, revealing his profile, but fixing his gaze ahead, on an abstract painting on the wall. An expensive purchase, he'd informed her; one he'd hoped to put up in their bedroom when they moved in together. Gemma had never liked it, and Coralie had found it fascinating.

At that moment, she had no interest in it, wishing Ryan would stop staring at it. "Ryan." She managed to get up, though her legs quaked. "Babe. I told you I would, but I also told you I needed time."

"Ha!" He scoffed and shook his head. "That seems to be running out. How long until he shows up and we have to hide again, like when I was with Gemma, huh? Aren't you tired of that life?" Arching a brow, he flipped to her. "Wait... do you have deeper feelings for him than what you claimed? Because you said you loved me. Me. Do you... love him, too?"

Explicit ✔Where stories live. Discover now