Page 61 of Holding Hope

And did I even want it undone?

“Yeah, Avalon,” Arabella cooed, a smug smile spreading. “Listen to him. What would Clarke want you to do?”

“Say her name one more time.”

I pulled free from Ethan’s hold and stepped closer. Arabella’s eyes widened, fear or shock, I couldn’t tell—her jaw tightening as she tried to look confident.

“Clarke wouldn’t want you⁠—”

She was on the floor before she finished her sentence.

For the first time in a long time, I wished I were drunk—drunk enough to scrub the image of Avalon and that girl from my mind. Drunk enough to erase the moment entirely.

She had seen me.

She had looked at me.

And still, she’d gone through with it.

I didn’t know what they’d done in that room, and I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to imagine their mouths, their hands, their whispered words. I didn’t want to think about her with someone else.

I wished I were drunk enough to stop thinking about it.

About them.

About her.

“I’m sorry,” Delia whispered beside me in the back of Colton’s truck. When I looked up, her orange brows were pulled together in sympathy.

“No, don’t be.” I laced my fingers through hers and leaned into her shoulder. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. And I have nothing to be mad about.”

Delia sighed, rubbing her thumb over mine. “But you didn’t have to see that⁠—”

“Avalon isn’t mine,” I cut in quickly. “She’s not mine, Delia. So, there’s nothing for me to be upset over.”

“But—”

“I’m not even sure how I feel about her,” I said, forcing the words out. “But I know I can’t control who she chooses to make out with.”

Even if I wished it was me, I added silently.

I sat up and moved toward the window, rolling it down and sticking my head out into the night air. I hadn’t had a single drink, but the urge to vomit churned in my stomach.

The lights of Opal Springs blurred behind us, replaced by the soft glow of lightning bugs—fairy flies, as Melody had called them when she was six. Trees whipped past, swallowed by the growing darkness. No matter how long I spent in the city, nothing compared to the clean, open air of the country. It cleared my lungs. Sometimes it cleared my mind.

Not tonight.

When we reached the ranch, I practically leapt from the truck. I needed a shower. I needed sleep. I needed to stop feeling everything I was feeling.

I didn’t wait to say goodbye. They understood.

Delia knew my feelings for Avalon were complicated—a tangle of resentment and longing, anger and attraction. And I knew she and Colton needed privacy. He would ask her the question soon, and neither of them wanted me hovering.

“Shouldn’t we⁠—”

“Just let her go,” Delia murmured. “She’ll be alright.”

I sniffled, forcing back tears as I pushed open the Big Barn doors.