Desolate Love

Chapter 33: The Fight

Vaughn POV

The meal had gone too smoothly. Too easily. Alec and Toby had carefully chosen their words, trying to navigate the minefield of emotions I was keeping tightly under wraps. Every second of the conversation felt like a tightrope walk, one where if they said the wrong thing, I would fall apart. So, when the check came and I pushed it away—determined not to let it end on a "nice" note—I should've known things were bound to snap.

I sat back in my chair, fingers drumming anxiously against the edge of my glass, the sound of the restaurant humming around us. The tension that had been simmering underneath the surface was beginning to bubble over.

"So, we're done then?" I said, the words leaving my mouth more sharply than I intended. "You two think you can just show up, give me some sob story, and expect me to fall in line? To *just* forgive you?"

Toby's brows furrowed, and he shifted in his seat. "Vaughn—"

"No," I cut him off, my chest tightening. "No, you don't get to make this seem like it's my fault. You two left me. You—both of you—watched me get tormented every single day and did nothing. You did nothing, and now you're here, expecting me to just take it."

Alec flinched, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for something to say. But nothing came out. It was always the same with him: quiet, apologetic, as if he thought his words would fix everything. But I wasn't ready to hear them anymore.

"You think you can apologize and make it go away?" I continued, my voice louder now, causing a few heads to turn in the restaurant. But I didn't care. "You think that by sitting here and talking, you can erase the years of me being alone, being shoved aside? Because that's not how this works. It's not that simple."

Toby slammed his hand on the table, an angry flush spreading across his face. "We *know* it's not simple! You think we're not aware of that? You think this is easy for *us*? For me?" His voice cracked, and for a second, he looked as vulnerable as I felt. "We didn't leave you because we didn't care, Vaughn. We left because we were scared. And we've been living with that guilt every day since."

"Scared?" I almost laughed. "You were scared? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Alec finally found his voice. "It means we fucked up, Vaughn. It means we were idiots. We didn't know how to deal with what was happening to you, and we didn't know how to deal with our own shit. We—"

"Don't," I spat, cutting him off. "Don't try to justify it. Don't try to make it sound like *you* were the ones who had it hard. You weren't the one getting pushed into lockers, getting called names every damn day while you two sat there like you didn't even care."

The anger coursing through me was overwhelming, sharp and jagged. I could feel my hands trembling, my breath coming faster, like I was about to burst from the pressure.

Toby leaned forward, his eyes wide and intense. "Vaughn—"

"No, Toby! No, you don't get to make me the bad guy here!" My voice broke as I stood up abruptly, knocking my chair back. It scraped loudly against the floor, and I didn't care. "I'm not some charity case that you can suddenly just 'fix' because you feel guilty now. I don't need you. I don't need *either* of you."

I heard Alec's sharp intake of breath, but I didn't look at him. I couldn't. The words were coming too fast, too vicious. The years of hurt that I had buried were rising up inside me, pushing me to lash out. And I had no idea how to stop it.

I felt a hand grip my arm suddenly, and I froze, my body going rigid.

"Vaughn," Alec said quietly, his voice breaking through the fog of my anger. His fingers were warm against my skin, but it didn't comfort me. If anything, it felt like a brand, marking me, reminding me of everything I wanted to forget. "Please, just—"

"Don't touch me," I snapped, my words harsh, and I tried to pull away from his grip.

But Alec didn't let go. Instead, he pulled me back, hard, and I stumbled slightly, not expecting the force of it.

"I said don't touch me!" I shouted, my eyes wild. "I don't want you here! I don't want your apologies, and I sure as hell don't want you pretending like you care about me now."

The table felt like it was closing in on me, the walls of the restaurant shrinking. I was suffocating, drowning in my own anger and frustration, and the one thing I wanted to do was run—run as far away from this situation, from them, as I could.

"Vaughn," Toby whispered, his voice soft but desperate. "We don't want to hurt you. We're not trying to—"

"Then why did you?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, and they hit harder than I expected. The rawness of it hit me like a slap to the face, and I could feel my chest tightening. "Why the hell did you leave me? Why didn't you stop it? You knew. You knew what was happening, and you did nothing."

The anger in me was burning so hot now, I could barely see straight. The heat of the argument clouded my vision, but I could still feel Alec's hand on my arm, still feel the intensity of his touch.

Before I could say anything else, he pulled me forward, almost roughly, and his lips crashed into mine.

The kiss was everything. It was desperate, hungry, and raw. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet. It was a collision of two people who had ignored this undeniable pull for years, only to find it was too much to hold back any longer.

I gasped against his mouth, my mind reeling. What the hell was happening? This wasn't part of the plan. This wasn't what I wanted.

But as much as I told myself that, a part of me—maybe the part I'd been hiding for so long—was responding. I could feel the familiar warmth of his body, the softness of his lips against mine, and I couldn't make myself pull away.

He kissed me again, deeper this time, and it felt like the world outside that small restaurant ceased to exist. Everything else fell away. The hurt. The anger. The years of pain. It didn't matter. Not in that moment.

When he pulled away, I was breathless. My heart was pounding, and I was dizzy with something I couldn't name.

"Alec..." I whispered, my voice shaking, and I didn't know whether I was angry or relieved. Both, probably.

But the look in his eyes, the raw vulnerability, the plea for something more—it made me question everything I thought I knew about this situation.

"We can't fix this in one kiss," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "But I just needed you to know... I'm here. And I won't stop fighting for you, Vaughn. I'll wait as long as it takes."

The restaurant seemed to spin around us as I stared into his eyes. I didn't know where this was going, but I wasn't ready to make any promises yet.

But in that moment, I knew one thing for sure. Everything had just changed.