Page 77 of Cruel When He Smiles

I don’t answer at first. Just shake my head. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, eyes locked on the corner of the room. I don’t want to say it, but I need to.

“It’s… it’s just some shit I have to deal with. The whole temper management thing.” I clench my jaw before continuing. “Seriously, Sage. It’s nothing you need to get dragged into. I’m handling it.”

He sets his laptop aside. “That’s rich, coming from you,” he says, and there’s a bitterness in his voice that makes my stomach twist.

I glance at him. “What?”

He tilts his head. “You got pissed at me for keeping things from you. Went off about how I didn’t trust you, how I shut you out about Luca. But now you’re doing the same damn thing.”

“That’s different—”

“Is it?” His tone cuts deeper now. “You said it yourself, Nate. You’ve been dealing with something. You blew up at me—and I get that, I do—but you’re still keeping your own shit close to your chest. I’m supposed to be okay with that?”

The words are right there, sitting at the back of my throat, pressing against my teeth, but I don’t want to let them out. Saying them makes it real. Saying it means I have to admit that Liam got to me.

That he got under my fucking skin.

That he broke me.

That I let him fuck me because I was hurting and needed to not feel anything.

Sage knows I’m struggling, but he’s not letting this go. He never does.

“It’s Liam,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Callahan?” His voice is angry, already edged with something dangerous. “Liam fucking Callahan is the reason you’re like this?”

I tilt my head back again, staring at the ceiling. “Yeah.”

Sage doesn’t speak right away. I know he’s holding back. I know he’s biting down on the first thing he wants to say, trying to keep his temper in check because if he doesn’t, he’s going to fucking explode. “You gonna tell me what he did?”

I sigh. “He didn’t do anything.”

Sage scoffs. “Didn’t do anything?” He gestures toward me. “You’ve been acting like a shell of yourself for weeks, Nate. You look like you haven’t slept in days, you’re avoiding class, you’re… fuck, you’re drowning. And you’re telling me Liam didn’t do anything?”

“Not in the way you think.”

He’s silent for a moment before sucking in a breath. “Then tell me,” he begs. “Please.”

Sage leans forward slightly, waiting. I force myself to meet his eyes, and once I do, the words start tumbling out.

“It started in therapy. The anger management sessions we both got assigned to. At first, I thought he was just fucking with me to pass the time. But he never let up. Kept pushing, kept getting in my head. He says things that sound normal, but they… aren’t. He acts like he’s trying to help. Like he’s calming me down. Says the right things, uses this voice—low and soothing—but it never feels clean. It’s not kindness, it’s control. He knows what he’s doing. He’s breaking me apart just so he can be the one to put me back together.”

Sage stares at me, jaw locked, muscles twitching beneath the skin.

“He makes you think it’s your fault,” I say. “That you’re the one who keeps inviting it. That you’re the problem, so maybe you deserve the attention, even if it hurts.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sage mutters, voice ragged.

“He watched me fall apart, Sage. Slowly. Quietly. He didn’t push me, he didn’t hurt me, he didn’t call me names. He just… waited. Waited for me to get soft around him. Waited for me to need the attention he’d always been shoving down my throat. And the second I needed it, he pulled it away and started ignoring me.”

Sage’s jaw tenses, and his eyes narrow. “So he love-bombed you, then vanished.”

I shrug. “He’s not stupid; he knew exactly what he was doing. I don’t know how he knew what I’d respond to, but he did, and he used it. He made me crave the way he saw me. Made me feel like I was special for being broken.”