Page 42 of Twisted Violet

“I don’t know,” I snap, voice cracking. “Okay? I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what they feel, or if I’m just some broken thing they’re trying to fix. But for once, I feel wanted. I feel safe. Isn’t that enough?”

Stevie goes quiet.

Then softly, she says: “I get it. I really do. After how we grew up… sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between kindness and something more.”

That stings.

“You think I’m reading it wrong?”

“No,” she says, too gently. “I think you’re vulnerable. They’re all attractive, and they’re taking care of you. That’s a dangerous mix.”

My throat tightens.

“You really think I’m that pathetic?”

“Alex.”

“You think I’m so unlovable that the idea of them wanting me is a fantasy?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Yeah, but it’s what you meant.”

I can feel the heat building behind my eyes.

“I’m not confused,” I whisper. “And I don’t need you reminding me I’m hard to love. I already figured that out on my own.”

Stevie’s expression cracks.

“Al… I didn’t mean it like that. I just want you to be careful.”

I end the call before she can say anything else.

The screen goes black. My reflection stares back, eyes red-rimmed and raw.

What if she’s right?

What if this thing I’m feeling isn’t real?

What if I let myself believe they care, only to find out later I was wrong?

I blink hard, forcing the tears to stand down, like they have no choice but to obey me.

I will not cry, not over this, but I can still feel the sting of her words.

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between kindness and something more.”

Yeah.

Tell me about it.

FIFTEEN

ROME

Violet is fading again.

Not dramatically. There’s no slammed doors or screaming matches.