"I'm not playing a game," I protest, but my voice comes out shaky instead of strong. "It's just that I need--"
"What?" he demands. "What could you possibly need from me?"
The harshness in his voice slices through me, and I cringe. I want to explain myself, but when I feel the tears well in my eyes, I know that there's no way I can hold myself together. "I'm sorry," I whisper as I turn to flee. "I should never have come here at all."