WEAKNESS.
Melissa.
My heart was still racing, wild, uneven, traitorous, but I didn’t let it show. I locked every tremor behind a wall of practiced indifference. I did not let him see how deeply his words had cut, how they had slipped beneath my skin and lodged there, sharp and unrelenting.
“You won’t be getting what you want, Melissa. Our heart belongs to Amelia.”
The sentence echoed in my mind, louder than it had sounded from his lips. It didn’t fade. It didn’t soften. It repeated itself over and over, as if my own thoughts had turned against me.
What I want?
If only he knew.
If only he understood that I hadn’t asked for any of this. I hadn’t asked to be pulled into their orbit. I hadn’t asked to feel the weight of three pairs of eyes tracking my every breath, every shift in postur
