Page 57 of Backstroke

“You don’t want anyone to know about us. Just like your text last night didn’t mention you were with me,” he says, the edge in his voice cutting deep.

My heart sinks. “That’s not fair, Remy,” I reply, my voice trembling. “Until last night you were still hell bent on bullying me. Of course I haven’t told anyone!”

Remy’s expression hardens, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve changed, Fallon. I’m not that guy anymore. But it feels like you’re ashamed of us, like you don’t want anyone to know we’re together.” Anger slaps me in the face.

“You have no right to be angry at me! I’ve been the one dealing with your shit and it wasjustlast night you ‘changed’ your mind about me“ I snap, my voice trembling with frustration.

Remy’s eyes blaze with fury. “You think it was easy for me? You think I haven’t been struggling with this too? I’m trying to make things right, Fallon, but you’re making it impossible!”

I can’t hold back anymore. “Impossible? You’re the one who’s making demands! You’re the one who hurt me! You don’t get to just waltz into my life and expect everything to be okay. You can’t just expect me to forget everything and pretend like it never happened.”

He clenches his fists, his jaw tight. “I’m not asking you to forget. I’m asking you to give us a chance. To let me prove that things are different between us.”

“I’m scared, okay? Are you happy now?” The weight of my confession hangs in the air, heavy and raw. Tears begin pooling in my eyes, and I jump from the bed to slip my dress from last night on. Remy’s anger seems to waver, replaced by a flicker of something else—concern, regret, maybe even understanding.

“Have you ever even had a girlfriend?”

His chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath. “No,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “Does that mean I can’t start now? Maybe no one ever sparked my interest the way you did. No one’s ever gotten so far under my skin. I’m so wrapped up in you that I don’t know where I begin and you end. But I’m not going to be your secret. Either we’re in this together, or we’re not. I just want us to be real.” The finality of his voice makes me flinch away.

I look up at him, my eyes burning with tears. “Real? You want real? Fine. Here’s real: I’m terrified of getting hurt. I’m terrified of what everyone will think. But most of all, I’m terrified of you breaking my heart.”

He steps closer, but I take a step back. “Don’t,” I warn, my voice cracking. “Just don’t.”

The room feels like it’s closing in on me, the weight of our words pressing down. Last night’s dinner fiasco, then the beach and now here, my mind is reeling from the past twenty four hours. I can’t take it anymore. I need to get out, to breathe.

“I can’t do this right now,” I declare. Before he can respond, I grab my things and storm out, slamming the door behind me. As I walk away, tears streaming down my face, I can still feel the echoes of our fight, the unresolved tension lingering in the air.

I hear him call my name, but it only fuels my determination to get away. Running down the stairs, I almost trip but someone catches me. I look up, seeing green eyes staring back at me.

The stranger steadies me, his grip firm yet gentle. I try to pull away, to continue my escape, but the concern in his eyes makes me pause.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft but steady.

I nod, swallowing hard. “I’m fine,” I manage to say, even though my voice wavers. “Just need to get out of here.”

“Remy is a good guy. He’s just…intense,” he finally says. Hearing his name snaps my mind back into focus.

“Intense is one word for it,” I mutter, the emotions still raw and overwhelming.

“Nix,” Remy growls behind me. The sound of his voice, filled with fury, makes my blood run cold. He sees Nix’s hand on my arm, helping steady me. Before I can react, he’s closing the distance, eyes blazing with fury.

“Get your hands off her,” Remy snarls, shoving Nix away from me. The force of his push sends Nix stumbling back, but he quickly regains his balance.

Nix holds up his hands defensively, a look of frustration crossing his face. “Relax, I was helping her,” he says, his voice low and measured. “She tripped. You wouldn’t know anything about helping, would you?”

Remy’s face contorts with fury. He looks like a predator ready to strike. “Don’t you dare,” he hisses, his words laced with venom. “She’s mine.”

“Mine, huh?” Nix scoffs, stepping closer to Remy. The air crackles with tension, the threat palpable. “You think ownership works that way? She’s a person, Remy. Not your property.”

I try to intervene, to pull them apart before things escalate, but my voice is caught in my throat. Fear, a cold, gnawing feeling, twists in my stomach. I’m caught between two powerful forces, each one fueled by an intensity that scares me. Remy’s eyes are wild, reminding me too much of my father’s during his worst moments. Anxiety coils through my body, suffocating me.

“She’s running from you,” Nix continues, his voice still low but unwavering. “Maybe you should ask yourself why.” He glances at me, a flicker of understanding in his eyes, then turns back to Remy. “Maybe she’s not yours to ‘own’ at all.”

Remy lunges, his fist aimed at Nix’s jaw. Hearing the impact makes me want to vomit. I scream, a sharp cry that echoes through the hallway, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Remy, stop,” I plead, my voice shaking. His eyes snap to mine with a look I’ve never seen before, and I can feel my face pale. Nix takes the opportunity to punch Remy back, pushing him backward against the railing.

The house erupts in chaos as a third figure intervenes. A guy with a similar build as Remy and Nix, his face etched with worry. He steps between Remy and Nix, his arms outstretched.

---