Chapter Twenty-Four #3
He stares at me, head tilting as if seeing something he never has before.
“I hate the idea of losing you.” He looks away, eyes watching the sun as it dips below the horizon.
“It keeps me up at night sometimes.” He stretches, hands finding their way behind his neck.
Lounging like he’s done fighting the truth and ready to ride out the serum in peace as he spills his guts.
“When you walked away from me today, my chest hurt.” I swallow, unsure how to take his words.
“And when I thought I disappointed you in the second simulation…I wish I were different.” Another crack in my heart, only this time, it’s not for me.
“I like you how you are.” A truth I’d admit whether I was under duress or not. He’s my best friend, after all. Despite the nonstop bad ideas and flirtatious jokes, I like nearly everything about Riven. Honestly, the thing I dislike the most about him is how much he dislikes aspects of himself.
“Say something true.” About yourself, please. About how you deserve love. About how you know you’re enough as you are.
He looks confused, like he’s never considered the words about to leave his lips. “I’m terrified of quiet rooms. That’s when I remember I’m built for killing.”
“That isn’t all you are.” He gives me a pointed look, like he doesn’t believe me. Like he doesn’t believe himself worthy of anything else.
He reaches for a card but doesn’t look at it. He just looks at me. “Say something true.” He volleys the same question back to me, like he was shocked by his answer and wants to see what I’ll say.
My heart pounds and I search desperately for a truth that won’t ruin me. I want to tell Riven how I feel about him…so I will. “You deserve more than someone who treats you like an afterthought.”
He goes still and then leans forward.
“Say something true about us.” His voice is rough.
The word hangs there.
Us.
I could try to dodge it.
But I don’t. Because despite my best efforts, the serum won’t let me.
“…I want you.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
They don’t feel like something I said so much as something that escaped, like my ribs cracked open and the truth slipped out between them.
My breath shudders on the way out. “I do, but I shouldn’t.
” The moment the words left my lips, I wanted to grab them back.
Shove them down my own throat. Pretend I never said them.
The silence consumes us. Like his shadows did in the simulation. Not slowly or gently, but hitting all at once. The ocean keeps moving below the patio, waves folding over themselves in the dark, but suddenly, it sounds miles away.
My pulse is everywhere. In my ears. In my hands. In the hollow at the base of my throat.
I don’t look at him. I can’t.
Because I know exactly how that must have sounded.
I want you.
My fingers curl against the lounge chair, nails pressing into the grain as heat crawls up my neck. The words feel enormous now, hanging in the air between us like something fragile and terrible. Like something he could crush without even trying.
Riven is quiet, too quiet, and my mind starts filling the space for him.
He’s going to laugh.
Of course he is. That’s what Riven does when things get too real. He’ll flash that crooked grin and say something ridiculous and turn it into a joke so we can both pretend this didn’t just happen. Or worse—
He’ll go still in that polite way people do when they’re trying not to embarrass you.
My stomach twists. I shouldn’t have said it. I shouldn’t have let it sound like that. Like I want him. Like I—
My breath catches halfway when I realize something.
What if he thinks I meant it lightly? Or sexually? Would that be better or worse?
What if he thinks it’s just attraction? Just the island? Just the game everyone keeps pushing us into?
What if he thinks I mean it the way people always mean it with him? Something easy. Temporary. Forgettable. The thought makes something sharp pull in my chest, because that isn’t what I mean.
Not even remotely.
But explaining that would mean saying something even more dangerous. Something that can break the fragile threads holding our friendship in place.
Riven still hasn’t said a word. The silence stretches so long it starts to feel like standing at the edge of a cliff during an earthquake, waiting to find out if the ground will hold.
I finally risk looking at him and immediately wish I hadn’t.
Because he’s staring at me like the world just tilted under his feet.
Riven moves before I can brace and pulls me into him. His arms are tight, solid, and warm. He presses me into his chest like he’s anchoring himself, and his hand rubs slow circles against my back. Comforting me.
I close my eyes. This is just kindness. This is how he lets people down gently. He’s holding me because he feels sorry for me. I feel his tight jaw and racing heart, like his body is nervously revolting against this confession.
I let him silently lay us back, our bodies pressing tightly together on the chaise-like chair I’ve caught him sleeping on a few times. I should have seen that for what it was then, another attempt to get away from me.
I am so stupid. Couldn’t I have fought back the serum for one more second? The effects are ebbing now, almost completely gone. But it’s too late.
Fireflies flicker behind us in the trees as silence stretches into the never-ending sea.
I stare up at the sky, hoping a shooting star would burst across the horizon so I could wish for the last hour to never have happened. I know I’ve ruined everything, and the next time he speaks, it will confirm it.
“You think I’m holding you to let you down. I’m holding you because I don’t trust myself to do anything else.” What in coven’s name does that mean?
We’re still lying side by side. Not touching, but also not not touching.
My thighs are pressed to his and his arm is around my shoulder, but our hands are now deliberately to ourselves.
My body is hyper-aware of every pulse of his body.
The heat from his arm. The way his breathing isn’t steady. The press of his body against mine.
Say something. Fix this before it’s irrevocably broken.
But he speaks first. “The darkness didn’t leave after the war.
I thought it would, but…it didn’t.” My heart stutters.
I turn my head, hoping to glean something from his eyes, but they’re fixed on the heavens.
“It just got quieter.” He lets out a labored sigh.
“And I keep waiting for the day someone sees it and decides I’m not worth the work. ”
My throat tightens when he flexes his hand against the cushion like he’s grounding himself.
His jaw ticks, and then he continues, “People run when things get heavy. I saw that with my parents and several of the men in my unit while we were away at war.” He laughs darkly.
“Love is the worst in those moments. Nothing worsens the sting of dead comrades like getting a letter from your wife that she is sick of you being away, so she’s leaving you.
” My mind flashes, putting together hundreds of truths he’s let slip over the years.
His parents. The way he talks about control. The way he performs perfection.
He swallows. “I’m terrified people will run away from me if they see everything. If I care too much.”
I turn my head to him, barely breathing. A joke. He’ll want a joke. “Truth serum is a bitch. Right?”
He turns to look at me, raw emotion painted across his face. “No.” A beat. “It wore off a few minutes ago.” My pulse roars in my ears. Why did he say that? Why confess that if he didn’t have to? Was it because he didn’t want me to be embarrassed and vulnerable alone?
I hesitate until his face contorts with barely restrained emotion. This. This is why he holds himself back from anything real. Why he prefers to skim only the surface and hide behind jokes. My hand reaches for his, slow but deliberate, and I slide my fingers into his.
His hand is warm and rough with well-earned calluses.
He stiffens for half a second—then laces our fingers together like he’d been waiting for me to do this.
“Your darkness doesn’t scare me,” I whisper, but since the truth serum is wearing off, I am able to hold back what I think next. It’s losing you that does.
Something shifts. Not physically, but energetically.