Anew

37

Tristan barely glanced at Scarlet before turning to leave the living room. He needed her out of the house. Soon. It was too hard for him to stay occupied and in control of himself when she was lounging on a sofa two-hundred feet away from him.

“Tristan,” her voice called to him. “Wait a sec.”

No, no, no.

No chatting.

He couldn’t handle her right now. He needed to go somewhere else…as far away as he could manage without being in too much pain…so he could plan his next suicide attempt.

This needed to end as soon as possible.

He rigidly turned around, trying his best to look uninterested. “What?”

She didn’t seem phased by his bad attitude—which wasn’t a good sign.

“Um….” She bit her bottom lip and every nerve in his body wanted to go over and bite it right along with her. She cleared her throat. “Why didn’t you want to meet me this time? In this life?” She looked concerned. Even insecure.

Damn it.

His heart cracked as he steeled himself for what he was about to do. He was going to have to lie to her. He was going to push her away.

He was going to break her heart.

And it would kill him, but it would keep her alive.

He waited until a look of absolute apathy crossed his face before he gathered the nerve to say, “Because I don’t want you here.”

Scarlet looked taken aback. Hurt.

Pain flashed in her eyes and Tristan almost lost all his resolve right there. He took a slow breath, harnessing his emotions.

Scarlet shook her head. “I’m…I’m sorry…I don’t remember….”

“I know,” he said, his voice still harsh. “I’m not mad at you.” He shrugged. “I just don’t want you around.”

He was evil and deserved to die.

And, hopefully, he would.

Her eyes were glossy, on the verge of tears. He could feel pain and heartbreak ricocheting through her. He could feel sadness…anger…he could feel the damage of his words.

She didn’t remember him, but her soul did. Her heart did.

And both were breaking.

Please don’t cry.

Tristan kept his eyes locked on hers, steady, careless, praying she wouldn’t burst into tears.

If she cried….

Well, if she cried, all bets were off.

She could not cry.

“Then….” Scarlet swallowed, controlling her tears. “Then, why…did you come sit by me in the forest? Why were you so nice to me the other day?”

Tristan wanted to kick himself for his lapse in self-control last weekend. If he couldn’t convince Scarlet he didn’t care about her, then she would be her normal, lovely, beautiful self around him.

If that happened, he wouldn’t be able to resist her and she would die.

The thought of her death gave him the strength he needed to end their conversation by saying, “I was doing Gabriel a favor. He thinks he loves you, or something. So, he wants you around. That’s what I was doing in the forest—keeping you around.”

A silent moment passed, Scarlet’s big eyes asking a thousand questions.

“Anyway,” Tristan said coldly, like he hadn’t just crushed her spirit. “I have things to do.”

And with that, he left, leaving Scarlet stung and insulted by his black words.

His insides curled in guilt as he retreated from her.

He was a liar and villain.

He was also in love with the girl on his couch.

And that’s what kept him moving away from Scarlet’s sweet face and toward the only thing he had to live for.

Death.