Nadia
He said my name, soft and choked with held-back tears. He said it again, a little more firmly.
I watched as he collected himself a little. Drained and dazed, my whole body rang in the wake of my outburst, like the last vibrations of a struck bell. My anger still smouldered, but underneath it I could feel the rising of a bitter undercurrent of hurt, coming to drown my protective fury.
“It’s not that, Nadia,” Vincent finally managed, and I huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Really. You’re – anyone would be lucky to have you. It’s me who’s not–”
“Don’t even start,” I said tiredly. “I don’t need you to try and convince me that a wolfless orphan nobody is some kind of great catch. I get it.”
“That’s not true. You’re a wonderful person, Nadia,” Vincent said so firmly that I almost tho
