Chapter 8

Five days until I left the country.

That morning. I finally told Pax it was over. That night, he kicked down my door.

The crash echoed through the tiny apartment, the flimsy frame rattling, hinges groaning under the impact. A crack splintered along the cheap wood, a jagged reminder of just how easily things broke–just how easily we had broken.

Pax stood in the doorway, breath uneven, fury barely restrained beneath a thin layer of composure.

His eyes–dark, burning–scanned the room before landing on me.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he bit out, voice taut with frustration. “Nina and I grew up together. Our families were close–she’s spoiled, sure, but she doesn’t mean half the shit she says.”

I didn’t respond.

“She was out of line, I get it,” he continued, stepping further in, closing the distance between us. “But you shouldn’t take it so personally.”

I let out a slow breath, my expression unreadable.

His jaw clenched, a flicker of impatience flashing in his gaze.

a little sister to me, Cecilia. That’s it.

between

his voice dropped lower, colder.

tantrum. There’s a limit to

fought before.

in frustration, stubborn silences that stretched

had we

once had the word breakup been

first time and I

tore my gaze away from him, looking instead at the door he had just kicked open. The edge where his foot had struck was splintered,

chin, my voice steady.

“I’m serious, Pax.”

23.06

Years of Love, Seven

Chapter 8

I added, “And while you’re at it, you should probably cover the

a short, incredulous

for this, do you?” His fingers raked through his hair, exasperation dripping from every word. “You’re jealous of Nina? That’s what this is about?”

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