Page 123 of Forsaken Oath

“You what?” I press gently, reaching for her hand.

She takes a step back, slipping her fingers out of reach.

“I can’t do this,” she blurts, the words tumbling out in a rush.

I freeze, my heart stumbling over itself as her words sink in. “What do you mean, you can’t do the picnic?”

I’ve never seen her whiskey eyes look so lost, so broken before. She’s looking at me like she’s about to shatter. Like she’s holding the pieces of herself together with duct tape and sheer force of will. And I just know I’m not going to like whatever’s coming out of her mouth next.

“We need to talk.” Her voice is flat, emotionless. It sends a chill down my spine.

Those four words might as well be the kiss of death.

“I’m right here, baby. Let’s talk.” I fold my arms across my chest and widen my stance to settle in. My girl’s in for a fight if she thinks she’s just gonna walk away from me.

Eloise looks down at her feet, unable to meet my gaze. Her fists are clenched at her sides, her knuckles turning white. Ifeel the tension rolling off her in waves, see the tremble in her bottom lip that she's trying so hard to hide.

“I can’t . . . I can’t do this anymore,” she whispers, her voice cracking on the last word.

My heart stops, then restarts in a painful stutter. “What are you talking about, Peach? You can’t do what anymore?”

She takes a shuddering breath and pins me with a look. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Beau.”

I shake my head a little bit, looking around to see if this is some fucked-up version of a prank. But it’s just me and the love of my life trying to leave me. It feels like I’m in some alternate reality.

“I’m gonna need you to spell it out for me, baby.”

“We’re done,” she snaps, recoiling like she hurt herself.

“Bullshit,” I grunt the word.

Her arms tighten around her middle, her eyes darting everywhere but at me. “I mean it, Beau. I can’t do this—thisthingbetween us. It was a mistake,” she whispers the last part. Like she can barely get the lie past her lips.

For a split second, it feels like I’m on that shitty carnival ride, where it swings you violently from one direction to the other. It happens so fast; you feel like the ground is going to open up and swallow you whole.

But the ground settles quick enough, and I don’t know what’s going on, but I know my girl. And I know she doesn’t think we’re a mistake.

“Nah, you don’t mean that, Peach,” I say quietly, my voice steady even as my chest tightens.

She finally looks at me, and the devastation in her eyes rips me apart. “I do.”

“No,” I say firmly, taking a step closer. “No, you don’t. Look at me, Peach. Talk to me. What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Her breath hitches, and for a second, I think she’s going to tell me. Her lips part, but then she shakes her head, her face hardening.

“I remembered who I am,” she says, her voice like ice. “And you and me? It’s not what I want.”

I feel like I’ve been gutted. Like she’s reached into my chest and ripped my fucking heart out. Intellectually, I know something else is at play here. But that useless beating organ inside of me doesn’t think logically. Nah, he’s too busy weeping at the fact she just shredded him.

“No,” I grind out, my fists clenching at my sides. “I don’t accept that.”

“You don’t have to,” she snaps, her voice cracking. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

I step closer, closing the distance between us, and tilt her chin up so she has no choice but to look at me. “It changes everything, Peach. Because I love you. And whatever this is, we’ll fix it, yeah? Together.”

Her eyes well with tears, and I think for a moment she’s going to fall into me, let me hold her. But then she steps back again, viciously wiping underneath her eyes even though no tears have fallen.

“Don’t, Beau,” she grits out, shaking her head. “You can’t—you can’t say things like that. Okay? It only makes it harder. Just . . . just accept this is what I want.”

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