Sage
Her words hit like a blade straight to the chest.
Eve stood there in the kitchen, fever-flushed and defiant, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and said the one thing I’d been terrified of hearing since the moment I’d lied to her.
The world tilted. My breath stopped. My face went cold, blood draining so fast I felt dizzy. My eyes widened, staring at her like she’d just driven a knife through me.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I closed it. Tried again. Still nothing.
She watched me, her chest rising and falling fast, tears threatening but refusing to fall. Her voice shook when she spoke again, low and raw.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered. “I can’t keep trusting you when you keep things from me. When you decide what I can and can’t know. When you promise me the world an
