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Old Wounds

“I’m sorry.”

She kept walking away from him, picking up the pace.

“Giana—”

“No.” She knew Xander was following her. “Leave me alone.”

“Can’t I at least apologize?”

He sounded agitated. She spun on her heel, her right arm shooting out to jab him in the chest with her finger. “You hurt me!” She raised her voice. “You physically and emotionally damaged me, and you want to apologize?!”

“Yes.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not even giving me the time of day! You’re a stubborn, hot-headed—”

“This isn’t productive! Just get away from me!” She turned around and continued in the direction of her parents’ home.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist. His grip tightened.

She froze. “Let go,” she heard herself say, though her voice sounded so foreign it may as well have belonged to someone else.

“Not until you give me a chance to explain myself,” he said in a low voice.

“I said, let go!” This time, she was yelling. She tried to pull herself away, but his hand only tightened around her. He started to pull her with him, in the opposite direction of where she’d been headed.

An older woman approached them, leaving the café they were arguing in front of. She looked as if she were in her late-twenties, maybe even thirties. She scrutinized them. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” Giana responded. Xander shot her a scathing look.

The woman looked between them and pursed her lips. Her eyes flickered to Xander, then to the way he was holding Giana’s wrist. “You heard what she said. Let go.”

He obliged, his expression darkening into a scowl.

Giana released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Xander stepped back, the woman wedging herself between them. The girl closed her eyes. “Go home, Xander.” Her voice was filled with exhaustion.

He opened his mouth to protest, but something stopped him. Maybe he knew better, or maybe it was the icy stare that woman was giving him, but he begrudgingly turned his back on the pair and started skulking toward the nearest T station.

Giana felt her body sink to the curb, sitting with her elbows balanced on her knees, head buried in her hands. She was shaking. Vega nudged her owner’s arm and burrowed her snout in the crook of her elbow, trying to get her attention.

The woman knelt down beside them and lightly placed a hand on Giana’s shoulder opposite the dog. “I know you don’t know me, but I’m offering to walk home with you.” She paused. “Or, if there’s someone you’d rather call, I’ll wait here with you for them to arrive.”

It took a moment for Giana to realize she was crying. She lifted her head up and opened her mouth, but couldn’t say anything.

“Did that boy hurt you?”

She offered the slightest nod.

“Do you want to call someone?”

She shook her head. Who was she going to call? Tori was at Bryce’s for the afternoon, and he lived on the other side of the city. Her parents didn’t know, and if she called her brother he’d blow everything way out of proportion.

“He’s my ex-boyfriend,” she said.

The woman nodded. “I can see why.”

“He won’t leave me alone.”

The woman stood, offering a hand to help her up. “Come on. I’ll walk with you.”

For the first time in a long time, Giana actually felt herself relax. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said lightly. They waited for the light to turn red so they could cross. “I’ve been there.”

“Does it get better?”

She thought for a moment. “That, I can’t answer for you. But I’m sure it will. Especially if you have a good support system.”

She thought about her parents, her brother, and her friends. They were a great support system. Even Jack, Xander’s twin, was the polar opposite of him. And he 

“I do,” she said, finally. “But I still don’t feel like I can tell everyone everything.”

The woman offered a sad smile. “It’ll come with time.”