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With nothing I can say to that, I leave the room and head down the hall. Damon is pacing in my room, obviously agitated, his chaotic energy suffocating.
“Why did you do that?”
Head snapping up, he stops in place and stares at me.
Rather than answering my question, he asks one of his own.
“Why did you never tell me about the promise you made to Ezra?”
Fuck...
That’s the last question I want to answer. And a heads-up would have been nice. It’s like Ezra wants to stab at me as much as he can, using every weapon at his disposal.
I still in place without anything I can tell him except the truth. If I didn’t have more than enough reasons to be mad at Ezra, I certainly have one now.
“I was trying to protect you both.”
“From?”
Damon steps in my direction, but stops himself several feet away.
“What would you need to protect us from?”
Each other, I don’t say.
Instead, I try to pass it off as something in the past, something easily explained as youth and inexperience.
“I didn’t know what to do back then. You wanted me, and so did he. I was afraid you two would fight. And because you were leaving together, I thought it would be better if I just walked away without causing a problem.”
“So you ditched us both?”
I nod.
“Okay, then tell me who you want now, because it’s obvious we’re right back in the same place. The only difference is I now know you promised Ezra something you never said to me. You never answered me back then, Red. And I think I know why. But why don’t you tell me?”
Damon already knows the answer, so I don’t bother explaining it. The truth is written all over his face.
All I want to do is reach out and smooth the pain from his expression, but I know better than to touch him right now. Anything I do would only hurt him more.
I have to hand it to him. Damon took no time at all cornering me on that one.
Sadly, though, what neither of them understand is that it has to end the same way.
No matter who I choose, the other will be pushed out.
No matter what I do, I’ve come between them.
And I refuse to do that.
Irefuseto be that girl.
He steps forward. “Tell me who you want.”
“Neither of you,” I admit. “My plan was to get through whatever this six weeks is and then leave it that we’re all just friends.”
His brows crash together, the corner of his lip tugging up.
“But you’re not walking away entirely again?”