Page 173 of Bitter’s Sweet

“No.”

She looks at me.

“Please.”

Her jaw tightens, but she stops.

I look at Bitter.

His face is hard. Too hard. His coffee is still in one hand, and I notice stupid things when my heart is breaking. Steam rises from the lid. His thumb rests beside a scratch in the cup. There is a grease mark near his wrist.

I know that wrist.

I touched it before I told him permission.

I hate my own memory.

“Never was?” I ask.

His jaw flexes.

I give him time.

One second.

Two.

He could fix this.

Not yesterday. Not the coffin. Not the cheating.

But this.

He could at least tell the truth.

He does not.

“No.”

My throat burns.

I nod. “Okay.”

Nevermore shifts behind him. “Bitter.”

“Stay out of it.”

“No.”

Nevermore’s voice is calm.

That gets everybody’s attention.

Bitter turns his head.

Nevermore folds his arms. “You’re doing exactly what I told you not to do yesterday.”

“Not your business.”