Page 132 of Chains of Recompense
Releasing me, she scampers from the room to do as I say.
When I straighten, Raf is standing in the doorway.
“You’re sending her away?” he asks coldly.
I swallow. “I’m sick. And things are… tense.”
“Tense,” he repeats flatly.
I rise to my feet, exhaustion pressing down on me. “I didn’t want her caught in the middle.”
“You didn’t think to talk to me first?”
I meet his gaze, and the hurt I find there nearly breaks me.
“I thought it was for the best.”
He lets out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Right. Of course you did.”
The doorbell rings, a cruel punctuation, and we both turn to look in its direction.
My parents got here quickly.
They’re cheerful and unaware, and Riley is swept up in hugs and reassurances.
She waves affectionately as they leave, oblivious to the devastation rippling beneath the surface.
The door closes, and the silence that follows is unbearable.
“One fight, and you’ve made up your mind,” Raf says quietly. “Just send her away without a word.”
I shake my head, tears burning. “That’s not what this is.”
“It feels like it,” he says. “Feels like you’re making it very clear that you don’t want me in your lives.”
“That’s not true,” I say desperately. “I know you’re angry, but?—”
Raf exhales sharply, pain etched into every line of his face. “I can’t believe I ever thought we could make a real go of this.”
The words land like a physical blow.
“Our entire relationship is built on deception,” he continues. “Lies layered on top of lies. Once this alliance is over, you can go back to your normal life. You don’t need to have anything more to do with me.”
My chest caves in. “So, that’s it,” I say hoarsely. “We’re done?”
“I should never have let myself believe otherwise,” he says, voice flat. “Enjoy your life, Aisling.” He leaves without another word.
I don’t remember sinking to the floor, but as the sobs come fast and ugly, tearing out of me, I fold in on myself, clutching my stomach as my forehead meets the cold marble floor.
Everything unraveled so quickly.
One moment of honesty detonated an entire future.
By midday, I’m back in the bathroom, sicker than before. My body feels wrong—off—as I clutch the toilet, waiting for the nausea to subside.
That’s when another sensation registers.
Tenderness.
