Page 108 of What You left in Me

His eyes flare, but not with surprise. With recognition. Like he’s been waiting for that lie to show up so he can dismantle it.

“No?” he repeats softly. “Then why are you here, Ariane?”

I try to step back. He doesn’t stop me, just lets his hands fall away, palms open at his sides like he’s giving me the option to bolt. That’s somehow worse. The distance between us is a breath, a heartbeat, a choice.

“Because you crossed a line I can’t uncross,” I say. My voice is too thin for how loud everything feels inside me. “Because you ruined everything.”

His jaw works. “Say it properly.”

“You ruined everything,” I repeat, louder. It echoes off the walls, off his chest, off the part of me that isn’t as outraged as it should be. “You burned my life down.”

“And you came to the arsonist,” he says. “Not the man who gave you rings and calendars. You came here.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m yours,” I snap.

He nods once, slow. “Then leave.”

The words slice the air open. I blink at him. “What?”

“Door’s right there.” He tips his chin toward it, still maddeningly calm. “Walk out. Go back to him. To whatever’s left. Tell yourself you’re not mine and you never were. I won’t chase you.” His throat flexes. “But if you stay, we stop lying about the way this feels. All of it.”

My heart stutters hard enough I feel it in my fingertips. The idea of turning away, of putting my hand on the doorknob and pretending the last weeks never happened, feels like trying to shove myself back into a life that doesn’t fit anymore.

“I hate when you do this,” I say. “When you turn everything into a dare.”

“Because you never walk away from dares,” he says, deadly quiet.

The bastard is right.

I should go. I should. Instead, my feet stay exactly where they are. My pulse gallops. My excuses shrivel one by one, loud and useless. This is almost humiliating.

“I’m not yours,” I say again, but it comes out softer this time, like even the word knows it’s out of merit badges.

He lets out a breath that sounds like it hurts. “Come here then,” he says. “Just for tonight. And we both stop pretending we don’t know what we’re doing.”

One second I’m frozen; the next my hand is in his shirt again, clutching, and I’m stepping back into his heat like I never left. His breath hitches when my body fits to his, like he didn’t believe I’d actually do it.

“This is a mistake,” I whisper

“Probably,” he says, and there’s a rough edge in his voice that wasn’t there before. His fingers skim up my spine, slow, testing. “Are you going to stop?”

Instead of answering, I tilt my head up. His mouth is right there, close enough that I can feel the words he isn’t saying fan across my lips. My eyes flick to his, and whatever he sees in mine seems to be all the permission he needs.

\ His hand cups my jaw, thumb pressing into the hinge like he’s trying to hold me together. Heat rushes my veins, dizzy and furious and relieved. My back hits the wall. I don’t remember us moving. His body cages mine without pinning, giving me the illusion of space where there is none. The world shrinks to the drag of his mouth, the scrape of his teeth when I tug his lower lip, the sound he makes when I do it again just to hear it.

“Obvious enough for you yet?” he mutters against my mouth.

“Shut up,” I breathe, pulling him closer.

When his fingers slide under the hem of my shirt, the shock of skin-on-skin makes my knees threaten mutiny. I cling harder, anchoring myself to the one person I should absolutely not be using as shore. I kiss him like I’m trying to forget everything and remember everything at the same time.

“Last chance,” he says against my throat, voice shredded. “Say stop, and I stop.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He takes that as permission and throws me on the bed, climbing on top of me.

Chapter 33 – Finn – Caught in the Dark