I never make it downstairs.
I’ve hardly had a second to put my shirt on straight when I hear someone banging on my door.
“I’m really sorry, bro,” I hear Kenji shout, “she wouldn’t listen to me—”
And then,
“Open the door, Warner. I promise this will only hurt a little.”
Her voice is the same as it’s always been. Smooth. Deceptively soft. Always a little rough around the edges.
“Lena,” I say. “How nice to hear from you again.”
“Open the door, asshole.”
“You never did hold back with the flattery.”
“I said open the door—”
Very carefully, I do.
And then I close my eyes.
Lena slaps me across the face so hard I feel it ring in my ears. Kenji screams, but only briefly, and I take a steadying breath. I look up at her without lifting my head. “Are you done?”
Her eyes go wide, enraged and offended, and I realize I’ve already pushed her too far. She swings without thinking, and even so, it’s a punch perfectly executed. On impact she’d break, at the very least, my nose, but I can no longer entertain her daydreams of causing me physical harm. My reflexes are faster than hers—they always have been—and I catch her wrist just moments before impact. Her arm vibrates from the intensity of the unspent energy and she jerks back, shrieking as she breaks free.
“You son of a bitch,” she says, breathing hard.
“I can’t let you punch me in the face, Lena.”
“I would do worse to you.”
“And yet you wonder why things didn’t work out between us.”
“Always so cold,” she says, and something in her voice breaks as she says it. “Always so cruel.”
I rub the back of my head and smile, unhappily, at the wall. “Why have you come up to my room? Why engage me privately? You know I have little left to say to you.”
“You never said anything to me,” she suddenly screams. “Two years,” she says, her chest heaving, “two years and you left a message with my mother telling her to let me know our relationship was over—”
“You weren’t home,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut. “I thought it more efficient—”
“You are a monster—”
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, I am. I wish you’d forget about me.”
Her eyes go glassy in an instant, heavy with unspent tears. I feel guilty for feeling nothing. I can only stare back at her, too tired to fight. Too busy nursing my own wounds.
Her voice is both angry and sad when she says, “Where’s your new girlfriend? I’m dying to meet her.”
At this, I look away again, my own heart breaking in my chest. “You should go get settled,” I say. “Nazeera and Haider are here, too, somewhere. I’m sure you’ll all have plenty to talk about.”
“Warner—”
“Please, Lena,” I say, feeling truly exhausted now. “You’re upset, I understand. But it’s not my fault you feel this way. I don’t love you. I never have. And I never led you to believe I did.”
She’s quiet for so long I finally face her, realizing too late that somehow, again, I’ve managed to make things worse. She looks paralyzed, her eyes round, her lips parted, her hands trembling slightly at her sides.
I sigh.
“I have to go,” I say quietly. “Kenji will show you to your quarters.” I glance at Kenji and he nods, just once. His face is unexpectedly grim.
Still, Lena says nothing.
I take a step back, ready to close the door between us, when she lunges at me with a sudden cry, her hands closing around my throat so unexpectedly she almost knocks me over. She’s screaming in my face, pushing me backward as she does, and it’s all I can do to keep myself calm. My instincts are too sharp sometimes—it’s hard for me to keep from reacting to physical threats—and I force myself to move in an almost liquid slow motion as I remove her hands from around my neck. She’s still thrashing against me, landing several kicks at my shins when I finally manage to gentle her arms and pull her close.
Suddenly, she stills.
My lips are at her ear when I say her name once, very gently.
She swallows hard as she meets my eyes, all fire and rage. Even so, I sense her hope. Her desperation. I can feel her wonder whether I’ve changed my mind.
“Lena,” I say again, even more softly. “Really, you must know that your actions do nothing to endear you to me.”
She stiffens.
“Please go away,” I say, and quickly close the door between us.
I fall backward onto my bed, cringing as she kicks violently at my door, and cradle my head in my hands. I have to stifle a sudden, inexplicable impulse to break something. My brain feels like it might split free of my skull.
How did I get here?
Unmoored. Disheveled and distracted.
When did this happen to me?
I have no focus, no control. I am every disappointment, every failure, every useless thing my father ever said I was. I am weak. I am a coward. I let my emotions win too often and now, now I’ve lost everything. Everything is falling apart. Juliette is in danger. Now, more than ever, she and I need to stand together. I need to talk to her. I need to warn her. I need to protect her—but she’s gone. She despises me again.
And I’m here once more.
In the abyss.
Dissolving slowly in the acid of emotion.