Page 85 of Velvet Chains

I almost smiled. Almost.

“You ghosted me, sure,” she continued. “But you didn’t lie. You told me exactly what you could handle. And Kieran…” Her voicesoftened, but her eyes didn’t. “You can’t handle this. You never could.”

I wanted to be angry.

God, I wanted to be angry.

But I wasn’t.

When I blinked, I realized I was holding back tears. Her words cut deep—too deep to fight. Too true to dodge. They gutted me.

And I had no defense. Not even close.

I swallowed. Hard.

“Okay,” I said quietly. “You made your point.”

I stood, feeling the ache in every joint like it was grief settling into bone. I looked at her one last time.

“Just know,” I said, “when Tristan comes around sniffing, I could’ve protected you. Both of you.”

“Kieran—”

“I’m doing what you wanted.”

I bent to pick up my clothes. My hands were shaking, but I kept it together. Barely.

“I’m leaving.”

“Kieran.”

I didn’t stop.

“Kieran, don’t you fucking dare walk out like that.”

I froze with my shirt half in my hand, back to her. My breath sawed through my chest, uneven.

“You want to drop some tragic line about protecting us like you’re doing us a favor and just disappear again?” Her voice was rising now. “That’s not protecting anyone. That’s running. You do it every time things get hard.”

I turned slowly. She was standing now too, blanket clutched tight around her, eyes shining.

“Jesus, Ruby, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to fight, damn it!” she shouted. “You always act like you’re the one losing everything, like we’re yours to mourn—but you left us. You decided we weren’t worth the risk before we ever had a chance.”

I stared at her, throat tight. “I didn’t even know she existed.”

“I’m not just talking about Rosie,” she said, voice shaking now. “I’m talking about me. You knew what you were walking away from.”

I stepped closer before I could stop myself, eyes locked on hers. “And what, you wanted me to stay? Back then? You would’ve let me?”

She didn’t answer right away. And in that silence, I felt the worst possible thing settle into my chest—hope.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But you didn’t give me the chance to find out.”

The silence between us stretched, thick with everything unsaid.

I took one slow step toward her.