Page 15

15

KENDALL

I haven’t stopped thinking about what Callum said.

“Because the second I saw you, I knew you’d ruin me if I let you.”

It keeps echoing, over and over, in the back of my head like a song I didn’t mean to memorize.

It wasn’t a compliment. Not exactly. But it wasn’t a threat either. It was something else. Something sharp and intimate and true in a way I don’t know if I can explain.

Now I can’t unhear it.

I mean, what the hell does that even mean?

Why does someone like him —quiet, calculating, carved out of stone—feel like I’m dangerous? He’s the one surrounded by secrets and scars and shadowed warning signs. He’s the one who smells like earth and cold metal and something ancient that never really got domesticated.

He’s not my problem.

I scrub a hand down my face and pace across my room like it’ll help clear my head. It doesn’t.

Maybe I need to see Stefan. Ground myself. He’s my boyfriend. My person . At least, he used to be.

So I throw on jeans and a jacket, ignore the way my senses still feel too sharp, and head out. Seeing him will help things be put back in perspective. The way they’re supposed to be.

When I get there, Stefan opens the door like he’s been waiting.

“Hey,” he says, and he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You ghosted again.”

“I know,” I say, stepping inside. “I’m sorry.”

The apartment smells like laundry detergent and his cologne. Familiar and safe. Things I know.

But right now it all feels foreign.

He watches me for a second like he’s debating what version of me is going to show up today. Then he gestures toward the couch.

I sit. He doesn’t. He leans against the wall, arms crossed.

“You’ve been off,” he says. “For a while now.”

“I’ve had a lot going on.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

The question lands harder than it should. Not because it’s unfair—because it isn’t . But because I have no way to answer it without breaking everything between us into pieces I won’t be able to glue back together. He knows it’s more than just my sister, but I can’t give him any other answers than that.

“I’ve been dealing with family stuff,” I say. “Adora. My dad. It’s complicated.”

“You know, I can help with that, like I used to. You barely talk to me anymore.”

“I’m talking now.”

“Barely.”

I suck in a sharp breath, trying not to lose it.

This is what I wanted, right? To feel normal. To remember what it was like before . Before the bite. Before the shift. Before Callum and his sharp eyes and low voice and the way my whole body feels like it’s tuned to his frequency. I don’t know why I’m so short with him lately, it’s not his fault I’m… this.

Stefan should be my anchor.

So why do I feel like I’m lying just by being here?

He moves to sit across from me, elbows on his knees. “Is there someone else?”

My head snaps up. “What?”

“You’re here, but you’re not really here , Kendall. It’s like… you’re looking through me.”

I shake my head. “No. There’s no one else.” Not in the way he means.

But I also can’t say it’s a lie because Callum is still echoing in my chest with everything he said and didn’t say last night.

“I’m just—” I start, then stop. Try again. “I don’t know who I am right now. And that’s not fair to you.”

He flinches. Like I hit him.

“You know what’s not fair?” he says, voice low. “Watching the girl I love turn into a stranger and not knowing why. Wondering if I did something wrong, or if you just woke up one day and decided I wasn’t enough.”

I swallow hard. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then talk to me. Trust me.”

“I can’t , Stefan.” My voice cracks, and I hate the way it feels like I’m splintering. “I want to, but I can’t . It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is ,” he snaps. “You either want this or you don’t. And right now, it feels like you don’t.”

I stare at him.

He’s not wrong.

I don’t feel like I belong here anymore. Not with him. Not in this space we used to share like it was sacred. It’s not him. It’s me. It’s everything I can’t say out loud. Everything I am now.

“I need to go see Adora,” I say softly. “She’s getting out of the hospital soon. I should be with her.”

He stares at me for a long moment.

Then he nods once. But it’s stiff. Guarded. Wounded.

“Yeah,” he says. “You should.”

I stand slowly. We don’t hug. We don’t kiss. And that says more than either of us could’ve managed with words.

I close the door behind me and press my back against it, staring at the hallway wall.

I thought seeing Stefan would clear my head, but all it’s done is show me how far away I already am. And no matter how far I run from it… Callum is still there in the dark, waiting.

And some part of me is waiting for him too. But why?