Page 88 of Lunar Crest University

“Get thefuckout,” I growl through my teeth.

I need space. I need to be alone.

It feels like an eternity that he stands there, staring at me. He looks like I’ve ripped out his heart and stomped all over it, but someone like him can’t have a heart, can they? What heart is there to even break? Meanwhile, mine is thumping inside my chest, begging me to put it out of its misery, because it’s shattering into a million tiny pieces as I look at him.

When he leaves, finally, I crumple to the floor and lie there for the rest of the night. I don’t close my eyes. I don’t sleep. I just lie there and cry until I can hear the birds chirping outside. Until my eyes are on fire and my nose is rubbed raw.

I’m in a bunch of broken pieces on this cold floor, and I don’t know how or if I’ll ever be able to put myself back together again.

Chapter Thirty-Two

FINLEY

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 14TH, 2023

Istare up at the dark, exposed beam ceiling, blinking numbly as I focus on the tiny speck there. I can’t exactly pinpointwhatit’s from.

My eyes are dry, and there’s a sting that penetrates them practically to the back of my skull. They’re swollen; I can tell by the way I feel puffy in my face. I’m in no condition to see anyone, but that just reminds me I’m stuck. I’m trapped here with Luca and his sweet, oblivious family while my entire world is thrown off its axis. I can’t run away unless I steal his keys and flee.

That’s an idea.

I should have this instinctive feeling to run as far as I can without looking back. I should call the police. I should be so scared that I can hardly breathe. But I don’t feel compelled to do any of those things, and that makes it so much worse.

Instead, I feel like I understand why Luca had to do the things he has done. What he continues to do. I hate myself forunderstandinghis reasoning for it all. Who the hell would want to understand someone like that? Someone who kills people andis just…fine. He goes about every day normally, like the blood on his hands doesn’t exist.

How can he do that?

I’m not scared or sad. Iwas. But now, I’m just angry. I’m so mad that he lied to me this entire time. He’s been lying since the day I met him, and I’mmadI was naive to it all. I guess I knew the whole time, didn’t I? I knew. I chose to ignore it. I chose to pretend the red flags didn’t exist, to continue to fall deeper and deeper into my feelings for him.

My eyes water at the thought when I didn’t think there was any way I could cry anymore. Squeezing my eyes shut, the tears slide down my face and into my ears.

I’m such an idiot. A big, dumb idiot.

If anything, it makes me feel like I understand him even more now, which only makes the rage boil inside me. I want to speak to him, to get more answers, but I want space too. The distance my soul needs is impossible to get here, stuck in this house with him and everyone else, unable to flee. I have no other choice but to face this head-on.

Howdarehe?

How dare he bring me all the way here and give me no other choice? Why would he spring this on mehere,of all places?

The anger pumping through me has me pushing myself up off the floor, wanting to march down the hallways of this huge house and bang on every door until I find him, but I can’t do that. The last thing I want is to make a spectacle. I look crazy this morning as it is; no need to add to it with my erratic behavior that begs to be set free.

I pace back and forth in front of the bed, wiping the tear streaks from my cheeks as I growl under my breath.

I’m spiraling. Everything is out of my control, and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s like a living hell on Earth. If possible, I’d claw out of my own skin right now.

A knock sounds at the door, and I still.

“Finley?” Luca’s muffled voice calls out from the other side.

Twisting on my heel, I face the door and cross my arms over my chest. It’s quiet for a moment before he raps against the door again, softer this time. If my eyes could bore holes through the wood, he would be dead.

“Come in,” I grit out.

The door creaks open, and his dark eyes immediately scan over me as he comes into the room. He’s in the same clothes from last night, and from the looks of the dark bags underneath his eyes, he didn’t sleep either. As he steps closer to me hesitantly, I see the red blood vessels in the whites of his eyes. Has he been crying?

Good.

I don’t give him the chance to speak. I want to have the upper hand here,needit. If he speaks first, I’ll cave from exhaustion.

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