The Boy and His Ribbon (The Ribbon Duet 1)

I slammed to a stop, breathing hard, facing her with spread helpless hands. “How can we ever go back to the way things were?” Pressure built behind my eyes as I stared at the girl I loved more than life itself. The girl who’d cracked my heart. The girl who would forever have the power to break me just like she’d broken me two nights ago and every hour in-between. “Do you even know the difference between platonic love and romantic? Is it my fault that I never explained the two? Have I failed you, Della?”

I was starving for food and affection.

I was thirsty for water and someone to assure me that it would all be okay. That I could have my Ribbon back. That I wouldn’t have to worry if I touched her hand or brushed a kiss on her temple. That I wouldn’t ruin her by making her believe that I wanted her the way a man wants a woman when I would never do that.

She was mine.

She was every hope and dream I’d ever had and the fabrication of every future I’d hoped for, and if I had to say goodbye to that…

Fuck.

I cleared the squeezing misery away and coughed into the night. “I…I miss you so fucking much, yet you’re standing right there.”

She sucked in a pained gasp, tears welling and overflowing in a second. Wriggling out of the backpack, she sprinted toward me before it even hit the ground.

With a rush of force, she ran into me, wrapping her arms around my waist, pressing her cheek against my chest. “Ren.”

Two things happened.

One, no thought was required.

This was Della.

I’d hugged her a thousand—no, a million times before, and my body recognised hers as if it was a part of me—a part I’d lost but now had found, and it hurt almost as much welcoming it back as it was to lose it.

My body rejoiced at having her home in my embrace, and I clutched her so damn hard. I curled around her, inhaling her hair and smelling foreign shampoo. I pressed my lips to her head, but then the memories returned.

The dream figments.

The real yearnings.

The forbidden responses she’d drawn from me.

Shoving her back, I held up my hand, keeping distance between us. “You’ve even managed to ruin a hug.”

She choked on a sob, hugging herself with fierce sadness. “I know.”

You’ve made this impossible for me, Little Ribbon.”

“I know that, too.”

Silence slithered between us, letting her tears fall and regret ice over my temper, until we both stood drained and empty with no place else to go.

Finally, I sighed. “I knew keeping you would be full of complications. I lived an almost daily battle when you were young not to hurt you and an even bigger war as you grew older. I’ve leaned on you so much. I’ve taken all you’ve had to give. And I’ve given you the illusion that what we share is normal. That our closeness is what others have when it’s not.” I looked at her, wanting to burn her with the truth. “I’ve never had anyone. I had no love until you taught me what it was, and even as I slowly learned the opposite of hate, I’ve known all along that love would end up hurting me the most.” I laughed sadly. “I was right.”

Her spine rolled, letting my words whip her.

I breathed hard, completely drained and ready to leave this place, to leave behind these harsh truths and put everything back into the dark where it belonged. “Come on,” I whispered, “I’ll take you home.”

Her eyes flicked to mine with blue surprise beneath black remorse. “How can we go back? I thought Cassie called the police.”

I shoved my hands into my back pockets, adjusting the wad of cash stored in my waistband. “I spoke to them. They didn’t call anyone. You’ll stay with them.”

“But…what about you?”

“I can’t go back. Not anymore.”

“No!” Her cheeks dotted with urgency. “I’m not going back without you.”

“You have no choice.”

“I do. I do have a choice!”

Her anger ignited mine all over again. “Like you had a choice when you kissed me?”

Her lips twisted, and her beautiful face warred with letting me remind her of her mistakes and fighting for forgiveness. “I said I was sorry.”

“It’s not fucking good enough. You should never have been so stupid!”

“I’ll never do it again.”

“Also not good enough. How can I ever trust you?”

“You can. You can trust me.”

I shook my head sadly. “I thought I could. And I did. I trusted you with my life.”

“And I trust you with mine.” She wrung her fingers, twisting and tugging. Her blue eyes darkened as some sort of resolution shoved aside her despair. “I know things will be strained between us for a while. I get that. And I also get that I’m a danger to you—that I did something outside of your control. I also get how wrong it was, and that to outsiders, it will never be permitted.”