Chapter Thirty SevenKyraI slammed my bedroom door shut and pressed my back against it, breath shallow, heart pounding like I’d sprinted miles instead of down a hallway. My chest ached with raw frustration—at him, at myself, at everything that kept dragging us together— only to tear us apart again.I hated him and I hated myself more.But worst of all, I hated how much I still wanted him… I slid down the door until I was sitting on the cold floor, burying my face in my palms. I didn’t know how long I stayed like that, my breath hitching, tears dripping onto my knees, but eventually I dragged myself up and climbed into bed without bothering to change. Exhaustion hit me like a truck, but sleep didn’t come easily. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Tristan standing there with that unreadable expression, like he was always one breath away from saying something that would either ruin me or save me, and choosing to do neither.By morning, my eyes burned and my head throbbed, but I dragge
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