“Zane asked, pulling away. His eyes were squinted at me like I’d just made some kind of awful accusation—I might as well have said he was repulsive and I hated him, from the way he was looking at me now.
“That you deserve happiness,” I said, the words shakier this time, less certain. “And love, you deserve love.”
“Don’t say that.” He cut me off, turning his face so that I could no longer see his eyes. “Please, don’t say that, Iris. You don’t mean it.”
“What . . . ? Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, my heart pounding as I pieced together just how exactly he’d interpreted my words. “I didn’t mean it as in I love you, that’s not what I was trying to say, it’s just . . .”
“Well, whatever—however you meant it, it’s not what I do. I told you that last night—I don’t have time for that bullshit. I love Zoey, and that’s it. I don’t love, and I don’t get loved either.
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