The confession

VIOLET

I stumbled out of the gym, my vision blurring as tears clouded my eyes, barely able to see the path in front of me. Behind me, I could hear Ryan calling out, his voice laced with worry, but I didn’t stop. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, and I quickened my pace, desperate to escape the memories that clawed at me with every step. I thought I’d left that part of my life behind, thought I’d buried the fear deep enough that it wouldn’t resurface. But now, seeing Ryan like that, bloodied and fierce—it had all come rushing back.

Before I could get far, his hand closed around my wrist, firm but gentle, pulling me to a halt. I tried to pull away, but he held on, his grip unyielding, forcing me to face him.

“Look at me!” His voice was firm but pleading, his eyes searching mine, demanding answers.

I dropped my gaze to the floor, shaking my head. “I... I can’t,” I murmured, my voice trembling, my hands clenched at my sides.

“Why?” His voice was softer now, tinged with something that sounded almost like hurt.

I took a shaky breath, my eyes still fixed on the ground. “Because… because I can’t handle it, Ryan,” I stammered. “The blood, the violence—I hate it. I’ve seen enough of it to last a lifetime. And after everything…” My voice trailed off, my throat tightening painfully. “I can’t be around someone who’s like that. I can’t be with… with someone violent.”

I felt his grip on my wrist loosen, and he ruffled his hair in frustration, his fingers dragging through it as if trying to pull some sense into the moment

“Damn it, Violet,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, like he was wrestling with words he couldn’t find. His face looked tight, conflicted—his eyes dark and full of something I couldn’t understand, something raw that made my heart twist painfully.

“Why? Why do you do it?” I asked, my voice a whisper as the tears slowly began to cease “Why does it always come to this?”

Ryan’s shoulders sagged slightly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“It’s who I am,” he admitted quietly. “I just… I need a way to get things out of my system. You don’t understand the pressure sometimes, Violet.” His voice grew rougher, tinged with exhaustion. “But I swear to you, I’d never hurt you. Never.”

“Then stop,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “If you care about me, if you mean it—then stop.”

He swallowed hard, my name falling from his lips like a plea. “Violet…” His voice was hushed, filled with an intensity that almost made me step back. He leaned closer, leveling his gaze with mine, his eyes piercing, desperate. “I can’t.”

“You’re right,” I said, my voice firm, even as it wavered. He was close, so close that his presence seemed to steal the air from my lungs, but I forced myself to keep going, to face him. “You can’t stop. And you know why? Because you don’t care. You don’t care about what this does to me, that I hate blood, that it brings back memories I can barely keep buried. You don’t care that you’re hurting yourself, or Jack, or anyone else. Do you?”

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his eyes hardening as he held my gaze. “You don’t care,” I continued, my voice rising with anger, frustration, and hurt. “All you care about is looking tough, being this… alpha guy you think you have to be. Trying to prove something to… who, Ryan? It’s pathetic…it's..”

“You don’t understand, Violet!” Ryan’s voice rose with anger and I almost flinched at the intensity. “You can’t judge me like that because you don’t know a damn thing about me. You think I do this to prove something? To look strong?” His voice was a sharp snap, but as he pressed a hand to his forehead, his expression softened, a flicker of pain breaking through his hardened exterior. He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling as if he was trying to hold himself together. A silence fell, heavy and charged, before he muttered, almost to himself, “It’s a distraction… a fucking distraction.”

Then he opened his eyes, and they were blazing. “And right now,” he continued, his voice dropping to a rough murmur, his gaze pressing on me, “I could really use a distraction”

Before I could even register what he was saying, he closed the distance between us, crashing his lips onto mine. The force of his kiss knocked the air out of my lungs and sent me stumbling back until my back met the wall . His hands found my face, his touch both urgent and achingly tender as his thumbs brushed my cheeks and his fingers threaded through my hair, pulling me closer. His kiss was everything—fast, desperate, fierce. Yet somehow, it felt like he was pouring everything into that single moment, every ounce of anger, frustration, and whatever else he was holding back.

And instead of pushing him away, I melted. My knees weakened, my entire body trembling under the intensity of his touch. I could feel his pain, his need, in the way he held me, and it was enough to make my own resolve falter, to dissolve any promises we’d made not to let this happen again. I should’ve pulled back. We both knew better. But in that moment, with his lips against mine, nothing else mattered.

The moment the kiss ended, I jerked away, breathless and startled, my hand covering my mouth as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. Ryan’s eyes widened slightly, a flash of surprise passing over his face before he masked it with a calm expression, watching me carefully.

“I… I don’t know,” I stammered, my voice trembling. My stomach twisted painfully, and I felt the weight of guilt settle over me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

He ran his tongue slowly across his lower lip, his gaze never leaving mine. His eyes were dark, unreadable. “I wish I could say the same for me.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What?” I asked, thrown off by his words

Ryan looked at me, his expression shifting, as though he was finally allowing himself to be seen in a way I’d never witnessed before. His gaze held mine, igniting a spark that set my entire body alight with confusion and something else—a dangerous excitement that I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I kissed you first,” he said simply, his voice unwavering. “And I’m not going to apologize for that.”

“But… why?”

For a brief moment, his eyes softened, flickering with an inner struggle as if he was debating how much to reveal. When he spoke, his voice was low, sharp with conviction. “Because I knew exactly what I was doing. I kissed you because I wanted to. Just like I did on prom night. And now… now I don’t have it in me to regret it.”

My heart pounded in my chest, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you do it?”

He clenched his jaw, his face hardening as he spun away from me, pressing a hand against the wall like he needed something solid to ground him. “Because I’ve wanted to for so long,” he admitted, the frustration thick in his voice. “And I’m so damn tired of pretending that I don’t.”

I stood there, staring at his back, the full weight of his words settling over me. “You’ve… wanted to?”

He exhaled deeply, then turned to face me, his expression fierce, almost vulnerable. “Do you want the truth?” he asked, his voice strained. I nodded, unable to form words, and he let out a hollow laugh, looking down at the floor, shaking his head like he was cursing himself.

“I’m… attracted to you, alright, Violet? Against every piece of logic, I am,” he finally admitted. He raised his eyes to mine, a storm swirling in them that made me shiver. “And I know I shouldn’t be, not with us… being stepsiblings. But I can’t stop. I’ve tried. And every time I think I’m over it, you’re there, and it’s like—like nothing else matters.”

My mind reeled. Ryan. Ryan is attracted to me? I was too stunned to speak.

“You keep apologizing for every kiss,” he continued, his voice growing quieter. “And each time, it feels like you’re ripping it away. Because apologizing means you regret it. And I—” He swallowed, glancing down. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

I took a shaky breath, my hands clenching at my sides. “I thought… I thought I wasn’t your type.”

A bitter smile tugged at his lips. “Most people aren’t,” he admitted, his voice rough, almost a growl. “But you? You’re different, Violet. You’re the only person who makes me feel like I’m not just… hollow.” He laughed darkly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “And I hate that. I hate that I want you, that you’re constantly on my mind, that I can’t seem to feel anything close to this with anyone else. It’s maddening.”

“Ryan, stop,” I said, taking a step back, my voice shaky. “You’re my stepbrother. You can’t say things like that.”

His gaze sharpened, and he let out a bitter laugh, glancing away toward the window. “Why should it be like that? Months ago, I didn’t even know you existed. I don’t see you as a sister, Violet. You’re not family to me. You’re… just someone I met. And now, what, because of a technicality, we’re supposed to act like that changes everything?”

My throat tightened. “We can’t… this can’t…”

Before I could finish, he cut me off, his tone clipped. “You don’t have to say it,” he said quietly. His eyes lingered on me for a moment. “I’ve said what I needed to say. You don't have to say anything “

He turned sharply, disappearing down the hallway, leaving me standing alone, breathless, with my heart pounding and my head spinning.