Page 26 of My Girl to Ruin

I don’t answer right away. I don’t need to. The silence does it for me.

Her expression crumples. “The money…I thought it was Tyler’s money.”

“There was no money,” I say quietly.

“What?” she asks, shock written on her face. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” she demands, her voice rising now, hurt turning sharper. “You just…what? Decided to take over my life without even asking me?”

My stomach twists. “You needed it.”

“That’s not the point!” she snaps, a tear slipping free, her hand coming up quickly to wipe it away. “You don’t get to make decisions like that for me, Lachlan. You don’t get to run things behind my back like I’m—” She stops, shaking her head.

I stay where I am. Because I know if I move closer, it’ll only make it worse.

“I sold the shop,” I say finally.

The words land between us like a blow.

Her head snaps up, her eyes widening in disbelief. “You what?”

“It was the only way to cover everything long-term,” I continue, keeping my voice even as the memory of it settles heavy in my chest. “Tuition. Living expenses. Everything.”

Her face goes pale. “That was Tyler’s,” she whispers, her voice breaking now. “That was ours.”

“I know what it was,” I snap, sharper than I intended.

She stares at me, wide open and gutted. I stand here and let her because there’s something I can’t say out loud: I’d do every bit of it again tomorrow.

“You shut me out for four years,” she says quietly. “Wouldn’t see me in the hospital. Wouldn’t see me in prison. And all this time, you were doing this?”

Each word hits harder than the last.

“You didn’t trust me enough to let me in then,” she continues, her gaze locking onto mine, hurt burning through it now. “And now I find out that everything I thought I knew was a lie.”

“It wasn’t a lie,” I say immediately.

“Then what was it?” she demands.

I hesitate. Just for a second. “I owed him,” I admit quietly. The words hang there. “And you,” I add, even though I shouldn’t.

Her breath catches. “Owed us?” she repeats, her voice hollow now.

I don’t respond. Because there’s nothing I can say that won’t make it worse. The moment the words leave my mouth, I hear how they sounded. Like a transaction. Like something that can be measured and settled. But it’s too late.

Tatum’s face falls completely, the last bit of hope in her expression flickering out like something fragile finally giving up.

“So that’s what this is to you?”

Something tears loose in my chest that has nothing to do with my own pain. I almost can’t breathe. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Her voice breaks, though I see how she tries to hold it together. “Because it sounds like you’ve just been paying off a debt.”

“It’s not like that,” I say, more firmly now, even though I know it won’t be enough.

“Isn’t it?” she whispers.

I don’t have an answer. Instead, I stand in my own kitchen and stare at her.

Her breath hitches, another tear slipping free as she steps back like she needs the distance just to breathe.