Page 82 of Eternal

My face pinches when I look up at him, confused.

“That this was real for me from the beginning.” He glances around the room. “I told you I’d prove it.”

I glance over at a curtain of chains. “This is incredible, but I don’t see how this proves anything.”

Declan hums, turning to walk toward the opposite corner of the room, and tugs me to follow him. The studio is filled to the brim with pieces, so I have to turn my body sideways just to get around a few of them.

Circling a tall pillar of gears, he finally stops at a piece in the corner.

The shape is feminine, with only the bust fully formed and a hole where the belly button normally is. Metal shavings are carved in the shape of flower petals, and they dangle from where her hands should be, falling to the ground like she’s wilting.

She feels familiar, and when I focus on the mangled mess of a partially formed head, I realize it’s the pieces of a sunflower blooming.

“What is this?”

“Remember that night I found you in the courtyard?” He looks over at me. “The little show we were wat—”

“I remember,” I cut him off, not needing the reminder of what he caught me doing.

Since I’ve adjusted to my new prescription, I’ve been feeling a little more levelheaded, and the thought of the twisted highs I was chasing not that long ago is embarrassing.

“Well, that night when you left, I came up here and made this.” He motions to the piece.

“And this is…”

“You.”

“Me?” My heart hammers as I stare at the figure.

She’s broken. Hurting. Carved out in the middle and struggling to bloom.

“You were an asshole to me that night.”

“I never said I’d prove I’m a good guy, Teal.” He leans against the wall. “Just said I’d prove this was real.”

“And how does this prove that?” I take a step back, my instincts fighting my heart the harder it beats in my chest. “How does this prove anything? You made some art for me, and that’s supposed to make me think you care?”

“No.” His gaze narrows the more I back up. “But I do.”

“No, you don’t.” I step back again. “You hate me. And we can’t do this.”

I turn my back on him, weaving out of the mess of art. Lost in his metal wonderland and trying to find my way out.

My palms sweat, and the room has me burning up. I twist my hair off my neck to wipe the sweat that’s covering the back of it.

“Teal.” Declan follows me through the studio, catching my hand when I reach the empty path in the middle.

But I pull out of his grasp as soon as he makes contact. “You can’t just change how you are with me. We had an agreement. You can’t just start caring when you never did.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” I push my hair back, shaking my head. “I hate you for a reason. You hurt me, Declan. You’re horrible. Cruel.You hurt me.”

I grab my stomach and step back.

“I know.” His jaw ticks.

“Then how do you expect me to believe that all of a sudden this has changed?”