Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
I understood that.
I would’ve gotten pissed off too. I did get pissed off when he’d told me that he’d read my diary and then he went ahead and used it against me. While my intention was never to use his deep secrets against him, I can see why he would’ve gotten a little taken aback.
“I just got really tired of everyone blaming you,” I tell him. “Everyone thinking that you’re the bad guy.”
A bruise pulses on his face. “I’m not a saint either. I —”
“Does it hurt?” I cut him off because I have so many things that I need to tell him and ask him.
A myriad of things, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep them inside of me.
It’s as if he understands it too, my restlessness. My need to worry and fuss over him. And so, he patiently shakes his head and says, “It’s fine.”
I step closer to him, taking in the new bruises on top of the old ones. “It does, doesn’t it? Your face is like… I know it hurts, Reign, okay? I saw you. I noticed. You can’t breathe without flinching. It’s your ribs, isn’t it?” I glance down at his chest, my hand flying out of his hold and reaching his chest where I rest it very, very gently. “Are they broken? They are, aren’t they? Your ribs are —”
He cradles my cheeks then, making me look up, his rough hands scraping against my soft skin, as he repeats, “It’s fine.”
“Reign —”
“Nothing’s broken,” he says, pressing my cheeks tightly. “Trust me. I had ’em checked out. I had to. Homer wouldn’t leave me alone. So as I said, I’m fine. I’ve had worse. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay.”
A breath escapes me, my eyes fluttering closed in relief.
He’s going to be okay.
“Now, I need to —”
I open my eyes. “It was my fault.”
“What?”
I grip his wrists and look him in the eyes. “I told him.”
“Told who what?”
Reign already knows that it was Lucas who’d found us and why he’d come over in the first place; Lucas was plenty clear and loud about that last night with the cops. And while Reign knows that, he doesn’t know what role I played in last night’s debacle.
“About the kiss.” Then, as if the truth wants to come rushing out, I keep going, “I told him that I was the one who started it. That I kissed you first. That I always wanted to kiss you because I always… and I did it to hurt him. I did it because I was angry. I was furious. Because he knew. All along he knew what you felt for me, and he let you suffer. He let…” I swallow thickly, my fingers tightening around his wrists. “I’m sorry, Reign. I’m… I never wanted to come between the two of you. That was the last thing I wanted. I never wanted to break up a friendship. I —”
“You didn’t,” he rasps, his nostrils flaring.
“I —"
“It was never a friendship.” He swallows. “Not like I thought, at least.”
He’s right.
And that’s the tragedy, isn’t it?
That the guy Reign thought was his best friend, his brother, was nothing more than a snake. He was nothing more than a jealous and weak and pathetic human being who not only contributed to rumors about him but also tried to ruin his life last night.
God, and to think that I wanted to mend their friendship.
I wanted to make their differences go away. Enough that I actually texted Lucas behind his back.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask next. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Why did you take this burden on all alone?
Why do you always do that?
He works his jaw back and forth, narrowing his eyes as if in thought. Then, “Because I didn’t know how to. I…”
I wait for him to gather his thoughts.
“I’m not,” he shakes his head once, “good at sharing. I’m… And it hurt. But then I thought maybe I deserved it. For everything wrong that I’ve done in my life. So there was no point in telling anyone anything.”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
I purse my lips.
I do everything that I can do stop myself from bawling. Sobbing and wailing.
For him.
For the pain I see on his tightened features. For all the pain that he’s gone through. At the hands of the people who should’ve been the closest to him.
“So not your fault. Whatever he did, it’s on him. Not you.” Then, almost soundlessly, hesitantly, he adds, “And maybe not me either.”
My voice, on the other hand, is completely loud and vehement. “Yes. Not you, Reign. It’s not on you. You don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to be betrayed like that.”
Something changes on his face then.
His expression gets rearranged. His eyes both melt and become determined. Like they were back when he was talking to my parents about his intentions.