002

Chapter 2

Sabrina’s POV

He held my gaze for several long seconds while I silently begged the universe to let him say yes.

His lips parted and for one reckless heartbeat I thought the answer was coming. Instead, a low laugh spilled out of him. It wasn’t mean, but it still cut straight through me.

Ronan Dickson laughed like I’d just told the most absurd joke he’d ever heard. Like I was some ridiculous punchline the cosmos had delivered purely for his entertainment.

Heat flooded my face even though no one else was in the room. I stood frozen, my heart slamming against my ribs in a frantic, uneven rhythm.

When the laughter finally faded, he stepped closer and did the one thing I dreaded most. He reached out and ruffled my hair the way he used to when I was twelve and had just aced a math test.

“Aww, Sabrina,” he said, still smiling. “You’re still such a kid.”

“I’m not.” I took a step back, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“You should forget about me,” he added quietly. “Seriously. I want the best for you, and I mean that.”

He paused, letting the words settle, then rested a hand on my shoulder. His thumb brushed lightly across my cheek.

“You need someone steady. Someone normal. That can’t be me.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he was already turning away. Without another word he walked out of my room and shut the door behind him.

I stayed rooted to the spot, trying to remember how to breathe. Only when my nails dug sharp crescents into my palms did I realize my fists were clenched.

Anger surged through me. I slammed my laptop shut hard enough to make the screen click in protest. This had to be the worst moment of my life.

My throat burned as if I’d swallowed fire, yet I refused to cry. My body betrayed me anyway—trembling like I’d been left out in the cold. When I couldn’t hold it together any longer, I curled into a tight ball on the bed, buried my face in the pillow, and let the sobs tear free.

It wasn’t quiet, graceful crying. It was the messy, rib-cracking kind that left my nose stuffed and my chest aching like it had been used as a punching bag. I cried until there was nothing left, until exhaustion finally dragged me under.

---

At first I thought the shouting was part of a dream. Then the volume rose and I jolted awake.

My mother was bellowing my name like the house was on fire.

“Sabrina! Are you still in bed? What is wrong with you?”

I sat up slowly, rubbing grit from my eyes. The pillow was damp. My head throbbed. The entire humiliating scene from three hours earlier slammed back into me—Ronan’s laughter, the rejection, that damn hair ruffle.

I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I grabbed it and winced at the string of missed calls and messages.

Mom: *Make sure you’ve packed everything. You’re going to your brother’s today.*

Dad: *We leave for the airport at six. Don’t make your mother yell.*

Mom: *SABRINA!!!*

They were leaving on their anniversary trip—a four-week Mediterranean cruise to celebrate twenty-three years of marriage. I’d originally been scheduled for the dorms, but I’d begged to stay off-campus with Logan instead. I wanted to live under the same roof as Ronan.

How poetic that decision felt now.

“Sabrina!” Mom’s voice cracked through the house again, impossible to ignore.

“Coming!” I croaked, dragging myself out of bed and scrubbing the sleep from my face before stumbling toward the door.

My legs felt like lead as I forced them down the stairs.

Mom stood at the bottom with her suitcase, eyes narrowed, hair pulled into a tight bun, lips painted her usual deep mauve—the shade that meant she was in full mission mode.

“What is going on with you?” she demanded the second my feet hit the last step. “You’re not dressed. You haven’t packed. You haven’t eaten. Do you want us to miss the flight?”

“I’m not going,” I muttered, folding my arms.

She blinked. “What?”

“I’m not moving in with Logan.”

Her eyes widened, then she started nodding slowly, as if listening to music only she could hear.

“Oh, yes you are. You were the one who insisted on it. You begged to stay with your brother instead of the dorms. So what’s this sudden attitude?”

I stared at the floor. “I changed my mind.”

“Well, unfortunately for you, your father and I have a flight in exactly one hour and we don’t have time for mood swings.” She pointed up the stairs. “Go get your bag. We’re dropping you off in thirty minutes.”

“Mom—”

“No, Sabrina. You’re not staying in this house alone for four weeks. That is not up for discussion.”

I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached. *You don’t understand,* I screamed inside my head. *I can’t be around him right now. Not after what he said. Not after the way he looked at me like I was a joke.*

But saying any of that out loud would only make me sound pathetic.

Mom’s expression softened a fraction as she took my hand. “Is something wrong with Logan? Or the house?”

I shook my head. “No.”

She studied me for a long moment. “Then what is this really about?”

I exhaled slowly. She wouldn’t understand even if I told her. It would only lead to lectures and pity, and I couldn’t handle either right now.

“Nothing,” I said, voice hollow.

Dad’s deep voice came from the hallway. “Hey, sweetheart. It’s only four weeks.”

“Four weeks…” I echoed weakly.

“I’ll talk to Logan—” Dad started, but Mom cut him off.

“Logan and Ronan lived under this roof until three years ago. They treat her like a little sister. Sabrina has no problem living with them. She’s just being dramatic.”

Classic Mom—right when a plot twist seemed possible, she shoved the story back onto its original track.

Dad tried again. “Come on, she’s clearly not comfortable right now. You should try to understand that.”

Mom snapped her head toward me, arms crossed. “Then tell me about it.”

I almost played the victim card—*Am I even your real daughter?*—but the words died in my throat.

She didn’t give me the chance. “You think I’d adopt a kid like you from an orphanage when I had bette

r options?” she shot back, then leveled me with a firm look. “Go get your bag, Sabrina. I’m not saying it again.”