Page 41 of Beautiful Ruins
She looked at me without defiance; shock and shame.
“You’re letting me go?”she enquired, voice rough.
“Yes.”
Her throat moved as she swallowed.“Why?”
I didn’t answer with the truth.Because you don’t deserve to wither away in here.Because my sister shamed me into remembering you’re a person.Because I can’t decide whether keeping you is protection or possession.
Instead, something totally different emerged.“Because you’re not a threat.”
Her gaze flicked away.“You finally realized that?”
“I did.”
She held my eyes again, and I saw the part of her that still wanted to argue, to prove herself.But she was too tired.
“Pack your things.Fifteen minutes and I’ll take you home.”
She nodded once and stepped back.
While she moved around the room, folding clothes into a bag with hands that shook only slightly, I watched from the doorway.Not like a guard.Like a man trying not to feel something.
When she finished, she hesitated.
“Keep the clothes,” I told her, before she could speak.“All of them.”
Her brows knit.“Raze?—”
“Don’t.”My voice cut clean through whatever she was about to say.“They’re yours.Consider it… compensation for inconvenience.”
Her mouth twitched, almost amused despite herself.“Inconvenience.”
“That’s what we’ll call it.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out her phone, holding it out to her.She hesitated before taking it, like the small device carried more weight than it should.
Her fingers hovered over the screen for a second too long.Then she unlocked it.
I understood the look on her face immediately.No missed calls.No messages.No frantic attempts to find her.Four days, and nothing.He hadn’t even tried.
I wondered, briefly, if this was the longest they’d ever gone without speaking.If she was used to constant check-ins, shallow apologies, small reassurances.If silence from him had once meant something.Now it meant nothing at all.
I didn’t let myself dwell on what that did to her—the realization that she could vanish from his life and he wouldn’t even notice.
A lump rose in her throat.I saw it move when she swallowed.She blinked hard, staring at the screen as if willing it to light up, as if willing him to prove he gave a damn.
It didn’t.
I kept my expression neutral, commanding.
My chest, however, felt anything but.
“Program my number into it,” I commanded.
Her eyes lifted, startled.“What?”
“Into your phone,” I repeated, tone clipped like it was a practical instruction and nothing else.“If he resurfaces.If you feel unsafe.You call me.”
