“I didn’t know you were a returner,” she said, her voice tinged with anger.
“You should have told me.”
“How could I?” he asked. “You’re the one who’s always telling me how we can’t be together.”
The words were meant to be a blow, but they didn’t hurt as much as he thought they would.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right.” He let out a heavy sigh and reached for her hand on the table; her skin was warm against his fingers.
She shrugged him off with an uncomfortable expression before standing up from the chair in one swift motion that reminded him of how angry she still was at this moment.
He couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed by her rejection, even though it made sense considering their current situation.
Pushing back his own emotions (which felt surprisingly raw), Ivar jumped into action like always, trying to deflect some of the anger away from them both.
