Olivia stopped struggling—but only because she was trembling too hard to keep fighting. Her fists, once curled in defiance, now pressed against Damon's chest as if to push away the very pain clawing at her soul.
"You did hurt me," she whispered hoarsely,
Damon held her tightly, but he didn't try to justify himself anymore. He just breathed in the scent of her hair, the weight of her shaking in his arms, and realized that silence—his silence—had cost more than he ever imagined.
"I never saw you as a thing," he said quietly. "You weren't a secret I wanted to uncover—you were the only thing in my life that ever felt real. I loved you then… I love you now, even if you never believe it again."
"I don't trust you," she snarled, shoving at his chest again. "Let me go, Damon!"
But he didn't loosen his grip.
"I won't," he whispered, voice rough. "Even if you hate me, I won't let you push me away. Not like this."
"I said let go!" she screamed.
And then it happened.
