CHAPTER 27 – ANTONIO
An ancient philosopher named Seneca once wrote that his heart was a heavy burden.
I seem to have the same condition.
How dare Caspian not come back?
Yes, technically it’s my fault, but I’ve never been that committed to technicalities. If we zoom out far enough, this is clearly his doing.
He started this.
I’m also jealous. My jealousy might be as unfair as my resentment is, but I still growl whenever I think about his hazel eyes softening for someone else.
He better not be interested in anyone else. He better not have moved on.
I’m in the library, trying to study, but I can’t concentrate.
Was it Montaigne who said he was hurt by all things? Wise men, him and Seneca. Maybe someday a small, heartbroken boy will stare into the abyss and think that the great Antonio di Scotti once said—
A shadow falls over the table.
NO.
I refuse to look up. If I don’t look up, Ryan isn’t there.
I start shoving books into the bag, my heart already on its way to my throat.
I loathe myself for giving Ryan this power.
You’re an adult. He can’t hurt you anymore. You can stop him.
Tell it to someone who believes in himself.
My useless fingers fumble and make the corner of a book catch on the fabric of my bag.
Ryan chuckles when he sees how I’m struggling.
“Do I make you nervous?”
“Leave me alone.”
“Look at you,” he mocks, tilting his head. “So defiant.”
His hand lifts, but not to hit.
To touch.
He brushes my cheek, and I jerk back so hard the chair nearly tips.
“Don’t touch me.”
His face twists.
I try to back up, but there’s a bookshelf right behind me. Ryan cages me in easily, arms braced on either side. The twisted satisfaction he gets from this is clear on his face.
The air turns thick with my fear. My throat feels like it’s closing up.
The threat has changed. I noticed it last time, but it’s worse now.
Ryan’s nostrils flare when he looks at me.
His eyes are dark and menacing.
His gaze drops to my mouth. He can’t—NO.
He’s already so close that our noses nearly touch.
I know what he’s thinking. His lips, forced on mine.
I won’t survive it.
I turn my head, staring somewhere past him, even though I barely register what I see.
I gather what little strength I have left.
“You’re harassing me.”
He slams his hand beside my head, hard enough for a book to slide off the shelf. It drops on the floor with a quiet thunk.
His eyes gleam.
“Don’t act like you don’t want the attention,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.
“You’re asking for it. You always were.”
“St—stop.”
His smile is monstrous.
“Or what?”
I remember how I used to hope against all hope that someone would care enough to step in.
Stop him because I couldn’t.
No one ever did.
Then—
Two fists grab Ryan’s shirt.
He’s ripped backward so violently his feet leave the ground.
He hits the floor with a shocked sound, then gets hauled up again like he weighs nothing.
“Get the fuck away from him.”
Caspian.
Standing between me and Ryan like a wall of unyielding granite. Relief floods my chest. My knees give out. I sink to the floor, shaking.
Caspian looks ready to kill.
I have never felt safer.