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Chapter 6
The next day, Kael’s pounding on the door hit like a thunderstorm rattling the frame.
I yanked it open, and there he stood under the dim, flickering porch light, chest heaving, clutching
that rain–soaked cardboard box I’d tossed in the trash.
“Talia!” His voice was raw, ragged. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”
I tilted my head, letting him get a good look at the ugly handprint on my left cheek. The bruise had
spread, purple finger marks blooming like a brand of shame seared into my skin.
Kael’s eyes widened, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.
“You…” His voice cracked, hand hovering near my face, fingers trembling before they froze midair. “I didn’t hit you that hard…”
I let out a cold, bitter laugh, stepping back from his touch.
Once
upon a time, I’d hold up a paper cut to him, pouting, “Kael, kiss it better!”
He’d roll his eyes, call me a “drama queen,” then gently slap a Band–Aid on with exaggerated care.
That same guy gave me this bruise.
Kael stared, floored by the ice in my gaze–something he’d never seen before.
“I’m sorry, Talia, I didn’t mean it.” He stumbled over his words, desperate. “I thought you were picking on her…on purpose, and I just… I lost it.”
I cut him off, my voice flat as steel. “Since you’re here, let’s make it clear: we’re done.”
“Kael, from now on, don’t speak to me like we still have something. We’re not. If we pass each
other on the street, keep walking. And don’t ever show up at my door like this again.”
His eyes flinched, like I’d slapped him. The night crept in between us, painting his silhouette in cold, jagged blue.
“Get lost,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, voice barely above a whisper.
He blinked, confusion twisting his face. “Is this about me sticking up for Riley? Or the slap?”
His eyes churned with something I couldn’t read hurt, maybe, or anger. “Since when did you get so damn cruel, Talia?”
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“Kael,” I said, prying his fingers off the doorframe one by one, “it’s not just the slap. It’s you. choosing the person who humiliated me over me.”
The porch light flickered and went out, leaving us into darkness.
In that split second before the shadows swallowed us, I caught the red rimming his eyes.
For a moment, he was that kid again–the one who’d take a punch for me, grin through the blood, and say, “Doesn’t even hurt.”
Kael stood frozen, the box slipping from his grip and hitting the ground with a dull thud. A single glass star rolled out, catching the faint light in a fractured shimmer.
His face hardened, like he didn’t recognize the girl in front of him.
He’d seen me cry, seen me laugh, seen me whine and pout–but never like this. Cold as ice, my eyes sharp enough to cut.
“Talia, I didn’t mean it,” he rasped, his throat bobbing. “I was pissed, I wasn’t thinking-”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to hear it.”
The night wind blew over, tearing my last words apart. “Kael, don’t come looking for me again.”
He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like my bones might crack. His eyes burned, wild and red, like a cornered wolf ready to snap.
“Seriously?” he growled, teeth gritted. “One slap, and you’re throwing away twenty years? Talia, when did you turn into such a drama queen?”
I stared into his furious face, remembering how he’d once pummeled a guy for catcalling me, his fists flying until the jerk begged for mercy.
Now, that same fire was aimed at me.
“One slap was all it took to see you for who you really are. That’s enough for me.” I said, calm and
final.
His laugh sliced through the silence, colder than the wind. “Fine. Perfect.”
He let go of my wrist. “We’re done, Talia. You’re on your own. Don’t come crawling back when you regret it.”
He stormed off, knocking over a potted fern on the porch. The crash of shattering clay triggered the
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garden’s motion–sensor lights, their harsh beams flickering to life.
I stood in the stuttering light, watching his shadow vanish around the stairwell.
It was like watching the boy who’d fought for me–the one who’d been my shield–disappear into the darkness for good.
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