Page 142 of Dance of Ruin

I used this. Held it over her head. Threatened her with her own fucking trauma.

And all she ever did was survive it, andtry to forget it.

I bury my face in my hands, rage and shame snaking around each other until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

What the fuck have I done.

30

NAOMI

The apartment isdark when I step inside.

The city glows faintly through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing everything in a silver-blue haze. The lights are off. No sound. No movement.

“Nico?” I call out softly.

No answer.

I kick off my shoes and start to walk deeper into the apartment.

Then I see him, sitting utterly still in a chair in the living room—hands clasped between his knees, head bowed, staring at the floor.

“Nico?”

He doesn’t look up.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my pulse quickening and my voice echoing in the quiet.

He stands slowly, his eyes not meeting mine. Suddenly, he drops to one knee.

Woah.

For half a second, my brain actually thinks he’s going to fuckingpropose.

My lips part. My breath stops. But then he lifts his face to mine, and I realize I’m wrong.

His eyes are haggard. His jaw is tight. His entire body is stiff with tension, and his strong, deep voice cracks when he speaks.

“Please forgive me.”

I stare at him, confused. He’s still on one knee.

Not moving, not blinking, like evenbreathingis painful.

“Nico…” I whisper. “What—what are you talking about?”

His hand lifts slightly, reaching for mine. Then it drops again, like he doesn’t want to touch me.

Like hecan’t.

“I didn’t know,” he chokes out. “Fuck, Naomi. I thought…”

He trails off, shaking his head like he’s trying to dislodge something from his brain.

I take a step back. Pain flickers across his face.

“Please,” he rasps. “Please. Just—fuckingsaysomething. Scream at me. Fuckinghitme.”

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