Chapter 23Selene
Chapter
Twenty-Three
SELENE
T he darkness presses in around me, suffocating and heavy. The manor is gone, replaced by the walls of a dimly lit bedroom. My bedroom. I know this place—the faded posters on the walls, the cluttered desk piled with books I’d read a hundred times to escape reality. It smells faintly of vanilla from the candle I always burned, an attempt to make the space feel warmer than it was.
I’m not alone. He’s here.
Ryan.
He sits on the edge of my bed, his presence filling the small room. He’s wearing the hoodie he always wore, the one that smelled like cedar and cheap cologne. His hair is a mess, the way I used to like it, and he’s looking at me with that crooked smile that once made my heart race. But tonight, it doesn’t. Tonight, it’s wrong.
Because I know how this ends.
The dream shifts, pulling me deeper into the memory. It’s the night I finally told him I was ready—or thought I was. We’d been together for months, and he was my first everything: first kiss, first date, first person I let past the walls I kept so carefully constructed. I thought he’d be the one, the one who’d see me, accept me, want me.
“Are you sure?” Ryan asks, his voice low, almost hesitant. He’s leaning toward me, his hands resting lightly on my hips. We’re both sitting on my bed, the covers bunched beneath us. My heart is pounding so hard I can barely think.
I nod, trying to steady my breathing. “Yeah, I... I’m sure.”
His smile widens, and for a moment, I think everything will be okay. He kisses me again, slow and soft, and my nerves start to melt away. I let myself believe this is right, that I’m finally stepping into the world everyone else seems to belong to so easily.
But then his hands start to wander, and the nerves creep back. I freeze when his fingers graze the edge of my waistband, a jolt of fear shooting through me.
“Wait,” I whisper, my voice trembling. He stops, his brow furrowing as he looks at me.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone patient but tinged with something else—something I can’t quite place.
I take a deep breath, my hands twisting in the fabric of my blanket. This is it. I have to tell him. “I’ve never done this before,” I say quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I’m... I’m a virgin.”
The air shifts, heavy and suffocating. Ryan’s face changes. The warmth in his eyes flickers, replaced by something colder. He leans back slightly, putting distance between us, and the silence stretches like a chasm.
“Oh,” he says finally, the single word cutting through me like a blade.
I blink, my stomach twisting. “I mean, I’ve just never been ready before. But I trust you, and I?—”
“Yeah, uh...” He cuts me off, running a hand through his hair. He looks uncomfortable now, like he’s trying to figure out how to escape. “I’m just... I’m not really into that.”
The words hit me like a slap. My chest tightens, my breath catching as I try to process what he just said. “What?”
He stands up, avoiding my eyes. “I’m sorry, Selene, but I don’t think this is going to work. I thought you were... I don’t know, different.”
“Different?” My voice cracks, tears already welling in my eyes. “What does that even mean?”
He shrugs, his expression almost apologetic. “I don’t want to deal with all that... inexperience. It’s just not my thing, you know?”
I don’t know. I don’t understand. All I can do is sit there, frozen, as he grabs his jacket and heads for the door. “Ryan, wait,” I choke out, my voice breaking. “Don’t—don’t do this.”
He pauses, his hand on the doorknob, but he doesn’t look back. “You’ll find someone else,” he says, like it’s supposed to be comforting. And then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.
The dream shifts again, pulling me deeper into the memory. I’m still sitting on the bed, staring at the door, my whole body trembling. The tears come slowly at first, and then all at once, until I’m sobbing into my hands, gasping for air.
The ache in my chest is unbearable, a crushing weight I can’t escape. His words replay over and over in my mind, each one sharper than the last. I’m not into that. I thought you were different. I don’t want to deal with your inexperience.
I curl up on the bed, hugging my knees to my chest as the shame sets in. Shame for trusting him, for thinking I could be enough. Shame for believing that someone like him could actually want me—not the girl who’s awkward, inexperienced, and more comfortable with books than people.
The candles burn down, their flames flickering out one by one, leaving me in darkness. Alone.