I walk out of the room, still seething.
Seriously, what the hell did he expect? That this would somehow move me? That I’d suddenly forgive him? That years of humiliation, pain, and anger would just dissolve because he finally discovered the truth?
I can’t even begin to understand why he thought telling me this would change anything.
Maybe it would have back in high school… it would have meant everything. Hell, even in university it might have mattered. But now? Now it’s more than a decade too late. It means nothing because damage has already been done.
“Wait.” His hand wraps around my wrist and once again, I wrench it free.
“What the hell do you want?” I snap, spinning around to face him.
For a second he just stands there, looking like he’s struggling to breathe.
“I just—” He stops, dragging a hand through his hair as if he doesn’t know what to say.
“You had so much to say back then," I tell him. “How come you’re quiet now?”
“That’s not—”
I cut in sharply. “It’s what, Noah? Because from where I’m standing, this conversation is pointless.”
He opens his mouth again, but nothing comes out and for the first time in my life, Noah Woods looks completely lost.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I just want to say I’m sorry for how I treated you.”
A hollow, humorless laugh escapes me.
“You’re sorry?”
“Yes,” he says softly, his grey eyes pleading with me to believe him.
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