Page 65 of Claiming Pretty

“What was there to explain?” His voice was sharp, cutting, as he followed me through the apartment. “I saw enough.”

I pushed open the broken door to my room, the creak of the damaged hinge grating on my nerves.

Of course, the door still wouldn’t close properly. Thanks to the two of them.

I stepped inside, yanked my backpack off my shoulder, and tossed it onto my desk.

“You think you saw enough, but you didn’t,” I snapped, whirling around to face him, my chest heaving with emotion. “You’re so quick to assume the worst.”

“You were kissing him, Ava!” His voice rose, bristling with frustration. “You promised me—”

“To save you, you idiot!” I shot back, my voice shaking as my hands clenched into fists at my sides even as guiltthreaded through me. “She was about to turn around and see you standing there!”

“And yet,” he said, his tone dropping low, his jaw tightening, “it didn’t look like saving me. It looked like…”

He stopped himself, his teeth clenching as if the words were too painful to say aloud.

“What?” I said, my voice hardening even as my chest ached. “It looked like what, Scáth? Say it, for fuck’s sake.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his pacing making the bedroom feel suffocating. “Like it wasn’t the first time.”

“Jesus Christ,” I said, exhaling sharply as I turned back to my desk. My hands shook as I began pulling out my books, arranging them on the shelf to distract myself from the rawness of his accusation. “Whatever happened between me and Ty is…”

Over.I swallowed down that lie.

And tried again. “I chose you, Scáth.You.”

Suddenly, his hand was on my shoulder, spinning me around to face him.

His blue eyes burned with a mixture of pain and anger. “You have to send him away.”

I flinched at the weight of his words, the finality in them.

Logic whispered that he was right. That sending Ty away would be the cleanest solution. No more temptation. No more… confusion.

And Ty would do it—if I asked. I knew that. He wasn’t lying in the lecture hall when he said he’d doanythingfor me. If I begged him to leave, to do it for me, he’d go. And I’d never see him again.

But the thought of telling Ty that I never wanted to see him again—after all he’d done for me, after the sacrifices hemade, after how he suffered so I could be free—it tore my soul into pieces. I’d no sooner send myself away.

“No,” I said, voice firm. “Ty is staying. He’s my best frie—”

“Your best friend doesn’tlookat you like that.” Ciaran’s voice rose, his frustration bubbling over. “He doesn’ttouchyou like that.”

“And boyfriends don’t leave for two fucking days without saying a single word!” I shot back, my voice rising as my chest tightened with anger.

His silence was heavy, his jaw tightening as he wrestled with whatever storm raged inside him.

Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter but no less intense. “I left because seeing you with him… It broke me. And I didn’t know how to put the pieces back together without… hurting someone.”

“You mean hurting Ty,” I said, my voice softening just enough to make my point clear.

He looked away, his anger dimming into something rawer, something heavier. “I needed time, Ava. To cool off. You don’t know what it felt like to see you… him…that.”

“I get that you needed space, but you can’t justabandonme without a word,” I said, my voice cracking. “You need totellme. God, send me a fucking text, leave a note on my bed, something,anythingto let me know what’s going on. If you keep pushing me away every time things get hard, you’ll lose me, Scáth.”

“I’m not pushing you away. I’m trying to hold on.” Ciaran grabbed my arms, his hands clutching me so tightly it bordered on pain. “It’s killing me, Ava, watching him try to take you.”

“No one is taking me.” I exhaled slowly, my anger morphing into need, though the hurt still lingered. “But you have to let me in. You have tobewith me.”

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