Page 113 of Crossing Lines

“Don’t,” I say, my voice hard, unfamiliar. “Don’t lie to me again.”

She blinks. “I’m not lying. I didn’t know you were standing there.”

“That’s not what I meant.” My pulse is a drumbeat in my ears. “I heard you. I heard everything.”

Silence.

“You tried to kill yourself,” I say, “to make me feelguilty. To punish me for walking away and setting boundaries. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Her expression hardens, like a curtain dropping. “You’re the one who abandoned me,” she spits. “After everything I’ve done for you?—”

“You mean the trauma?” I laugh, sharp and bitter. “The gaslighting? The manipulation? The way you made meyourparent before I could drive?”

“I gave you everything!” she snaps. “I sacrificed?—”

“You sacrificed me.” My voice cracks, but I keep going. “Over and over. You used my love as leverage. You weaponized your pain until it was a grenade in the middle of my life.”

She opens her mouth, but I hold up a hand.

“I’m done,” I say quietly. “I’m not playing this game anymore. You want to destroy yourself? Fine, but I won’t be in the blast radius.”

“You’re walking away again?” she sneers. “Of course. Go ahead. Leave me alone. Like you always do. Like everyone always does.”

“Yeah? I wonder why. Maybe it’s because you burn every bridge with a smile on your face.”

She scoffs, gaze narrowing. “You’ll come back. You always do.”

I look at her. Really look at her. Pale, thin, bitter. There’s no remorse, just calculation.

And I realize that she’s right about one thing—the past.

I have always come back.

But not this time.

I take a slow breath and straighten my spine.

“I really hope one day you get help,” I say, quiet and calm. “But I can’t do this anymore. You’ve crossed too many lines to count.”

She’s still silent as I step back, my hand on the door.

“I love you.”The words scrape raw from my throat, bloody with a price I didn't know they carried.“But I’m done letting that love hurt me.”

I back out of the room to the nurse saying to Mom, “I’m going to bring in our social worker so they can explain your options.”

I guess that’s not my problem anymore.

I hold it together as I keep backing up and bump right into Evren’s chest. His eyes are black fury, jaw clenched tight enough to splinter teeth. He must’ve heard everything.

I catch his wrist before he storms inside the room.

“Not here,” I say, dragging him through fluorescents and fire exits and into the parking garage.

“Are you okay?” he asks when he buckles me into his car.

“Yes? No? I don’t fucking know anymore. All I know is that I’m really done this time. No more reacting. No more rescuing. Whatever she does from now on, I won’t let it pull me under.”

“You did everything you could.” Evren crouches next to my open door and pulls me into his arms, his voice low,steady. “You offered her a lifeline. She made the choice not to take it.”

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