Page 50 of Atlas Uncharted

Like I didn’t exist. Like I wasn’t fucking standing there.

My chest burned.

Was that how she felt watching me and Ashlen?

I couldn’t stomach how she looked at him.

I leaned forward, gripping the counter, my breathing heavy.

She almost loved him?

I turned and left the kitchen, found her in the bedroom folding clothes—like she hadn’t just torn at my heart.

“How were you almost in love with him?” I asked.

She froze, her back to me. I knew she wouldn’t answer, just by her body language.

But I wasn’t about to let her escape from this. I needed to know.

I needed to know how she could’ve let someone else in like that—how she could’ve given him a piece of her heart.

“Was it real?”

She exhaled sharply, irritated. "What do you want me to say, Atlas?"

"I want the fucking truth!" My voice cracked, and I stepped closer. "You said you almost loved him. Almost? How do you almost love someone? And what about me? What the fuck do you call your feelings for me?"

She hesitated, eyes flickering away. Then her voice came, barely audible, like she was ashamed. "Ill-fated."

I laughed, my emotions had me feeling cracked and jagged.

"Ill-fated? Ill-fated," I repeated, voice rising. "You say shit like that to hurt me? IYou wanna fucking gut me?"

I circled around her so we were face to face, gripping her chin so roughly her lips parted in shock.

"Try harder, Kairi. You can't break me with lies."

I laughed again, feeling like I was losing my mind.

“You’ve loved me as long as I’ve loved you. I saw it back then—in the way you looked at me when you thought I wasn’t watching. In the way you’d always answer my calls, no matter what.

And you still love me now, even if you can’t admit it.”

Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak.

I could see it—see the truth in her eyes, the way her walls were cracking.

“You can lie to yourself. To me. To him.

I know the truth.

You’ve never stopped wanting me.

Never stopped needing me.

And that’s why I’m not letting you go.”

She thought she could keep pushing me, and I'd do what I'd always done back in college—let her. Not anymore.

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