Chapter 28 I hate you
Justin's Point of View:
I cleared my throat. “I had it prepared for you, the way barbies like it. If there’s anything you don’t like, we can change it immediately.”
She walked in slowly, fingers brushing a ribbon on the bedpost, lifting a tiara from the dresser as if it might bite her. Then she turned to me.
“Justin,” she said carefully, “do you think I’m five? Who the hell is Barbie?”
The question landed cleanly, and I immediately wished I had given her what Ella liked. Yellow.
I exhaled through my nose. “No. You're not five.”
“Then why does this room look like a child’s fantasy of a girl?”
Fair. Brutally fair.
“I asked people what women liked,” I admitted, looking broken. “They gave me… consensus.”
She snorted. “You asked the wrong people.”
That earned a real smile from me. It was brief and involuntary. “Then tell me what you want instead. Is it yellow?”
Lydia studied me for a moment, like she was trying to decide whether this was a trap.
“Purple,” she said. “I’m here to regain my memories. You should know my favorite color, it might help.”
I lowered my head. Back in highschool, I didn't really pay attention to colours.
Luckily, Lydia didn't pressure me. “I like purple.”
I nodded. “Okay, it’ll be done by tomorrow.”
She blinked. “You’re not going to argue?”
“Why would I?” I replied. “You’re living here. Not my idea of you.”
That seemed to ease something. Just slightly.
She set her bag down. “Thank you.”
A pause followed. The kind thick with things unsaid.
“So,” she said at last, folding her arms, “ground rules? Anywhere I'm not allowed to visit?”
I leaned against the doorframe. “Not really. What about you?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Justin, I’m not here as your girlfriend. I didn’t move in for romance. I moved in because I want answers. And because you promised to help.” I felt like there was something she was hiding, but I didn't push further.
Instead, I nodded. “Agreed. I will help as much as I can.”
Her brows knitted. “Just like that?”
“I didn’t bring you here to trap you, Lydia,” I said evenly. “I brought you here because you’re safer inside my walls than outside them. And because I'm worried that you might get attacked again.”
Her lips pressed together. “That’s comforting.”
“You’ll have privacy,” I promised with a smile. “No restrictions on where you go. No monitoring. No forced closeness.”
She tilted her head. “And the catch?”
I met her gaze. “Don’t lie to me. Ever.”
There was an awkward silence. Then she asked the question I’d been expecting.
“What about Harridan?”
The name tightened something unpleasant in my chest. “What about him?”
She tried to act uninterested, but I knew she was. “He's your friend. How is he doing?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I have no idea, and I don't care to know,” I replied, and her face turned pale.
Lydia's Point of View:
His answer hit harder than I expected. I have no idea, and I don’t care to know.
I stared at Justin, searching his face for irony, sarcasm, anything to soften the bluntness of those words. There was none. His expression was controlled, almost indifferent, but his jaw was tight in a way that betrayed him.
“You don’t care?” I repeated quietly.
Justin straightened from the doorframe. “No,” he said. Then, after a brief pause, he added, “I care about you. Harridan is engaged to my sister, and it's not my job to care.”
That wasn’t an answer. It was an evasion wrapped in certainty.
I looked away, suddenly very aware of the room, it was suffocating. I might have liked pink in the past, but now it repulsed me. My fingers curled around the strap of my bag.
“I heard that you two were close,” I said. “You don’t just stop caring overnight.”
Justin didn’t respond immediately. He stepped into the room fully now, but kept his distance, two careful steps away, as if he were constantly checking how close was too close.
“Some friendships,” he said slowly, “are built on convenience. Others on loyalty. When loyalty breaks, there’s nothing left to care. I can't be friends with my rival.”
I swallowed. Something about the way he said it felt… personal. Too personal.
“I don’t want to be the reason you hate each other,” I confessed, my eyes lowered.
He laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. “You’re not that powerful, Lydia.”
That should have reassured me, but it didn’t.
Silence settled between us again, heavier this time. My eyes drifted back to the room, the stuffed bears, the tiaras, the soft lighting. It all felt wrong. Not offensive, just… inaccurate.
“This room,” I said suddenly, “it feels like how people see me. Not who I actually am.”
Justin followed my gaze. “Then we’ll fix that.”
“It’s not just the decorations,” I murmured.
He looked at me then. Really looked at me. “I know.”
That made my chest tighten. I took a breath and set my bag fully on the floor. “I’m tired. Not just physically. I feel like everyone around me knows more about my life than I do.”
Justin’s expression shifted, quickly, but I caught it. Guilt, or maybe it was fear.
“You’ll remember,” he said firmly. “We’ll make sure of it.”
“We?” I echoed.
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “You’re not doing this alone.”
I studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.” There was another pause. “Can I ask you something?” I said.
“You already are.”
“Why now?” I asked. “Why did you suddenly decide I should live with you?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he walked to the window and looked out over the garden below, hands in his pockets.
“Maybe because you were attacked,” he said. “Or maybe because i was worried for your safety.”
“You didn’t include because you like me,” I pointed out.
He turned back to me. “That wasn’t sudden.”
My heart skipped in a way I didn’t appreciate.
“I’m not asking for a confession,” I said quickly. “I just need honesty.”
“You’re getting it,” he replied. “Just not all at once.”
I nodded slowly. That seemed to be the theme of my life lately.
“Can I unpack?” I asked.
“Yes. Dinner will be sent up later. If you need anything, anything at all, just call.”
He turned to leave, then stopped at the door. “And Lydia,” he said.
“Yes?”
“You’re allowed to miss him.”
I stiffened. “I didn’t say I did.”
“I know,” he replied gently. “That’s why I said it. After missing him, you will have the courage to fully like me.”
He left before I could respond.
The door clicked shut, and I was alone.
I exhaled, a long breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and sank onto the edge of the bed. My phone buzzed almost immediately.
A message from my friends.
VENUS: Did you arrive safely?
I typed back: Yes.
Another vibration: “Hey, it's Saturn. Are you okay?
I stared at the screen, then typed: I don’t know yet.
I set the phone aside and lay back, staring at the ceiling. My mind drifted, uninvited. I had to get to the bottom of my parents murder, but I also can't ignore how I felt about both men.
I closed my eyes. This house felt safe. Quiet, too quiet. And for the first time since my accident, a terrifying thought crept in:
What if remembering everything doesn’t fix anything at all?
What if it only proves that everyone here, including me, has already chosen sides?
Somewhere down the hall, a door closed softly. And I knew, without seeing him, that Justin hadn’t gone far.