The Three Who Chose Me Chapter 89: Too Many Emotions

Josie

I let out a soft sigh, tangled in the warmth of Varen’s arms. My skin still tingled where his hands had touched, and my heart was beating like a frantic drum against my ribs. My head spun, not in a bad way, but with a rush of emotions I couldn’t quite hold down. There was a strange cocktail of want, guilt, sadness, and sothing else I wasn’t ready to na.

"I feel so good," I whispered, snuggling closer into his chest. "But I’m feeling so many emotions at once... it’s making lightheaded."

Varen shifted, chuckling low as he pressed a gentle kiss to my nose. "Then take your ti, Josie. We’re not in a rush."

I hesitated, brushing my fingers lightly against his chest. "I want you to take it slowly. I... I don’t know if you’d be okay with that."

He cupped my face, looking down at like I was sothing precious. "You don’t get to think that way," he murmured. "I like whatever you like. You shouldn’t have such silly ideas in your head again, sweetheart. You make full... whole, even."

My cheeks went hot, and I tucked my face into the crook of his neck to hide it. "You’re too sweet," I mumbled. "I just want to be held."

"I want that too." He kissed my forehead with a kind of softness I wasn’t used to. "So much."

For a mont, there was silence. Just our breathing. Just our warmth. Then, our lips found each other again. My hand found the back of his neck, drawing him closer, needing to drown in the feeling of soone who actually wanted .

But Varen pulled away gently, resting his forehead against mine. I chased after his lips with a whimper, and he smiled—sadly.

"If we don’t stop now..." he began, voice husky, "...I won’t be able to stop. And I don’t think you’re ready for that yet."

I blinked, heart thudding harder, and then nodded. "You’re probably right."

He held tighter for a beat, and then loosened the grip, eyes searching mine.

"But," he said, his voice shifting slightly, "before I got here... sothing was bothering you. And I don’t think it was just Kiel."

I froze. My body tensed before I could stop it.

"Where’s this coming from?" I asked, pulling back a little. "Did Thorne say sothing to you?"

There was a pause. An awkward one.

I tilted my head and studied his face—and I saw it. That guilty flicker in his eyes. The kind that said he knew sothing I didn’t want him to know.

"Oh my God," I breathed, sitting up. "You spoke to him, didn’t you?"

Varen raised both hands slightly. "Josie—"

"Don’t lie to ."

"I’m not lying—"

"You are!" I snapped, flinging the blanket off and moving to the other side of the bed. "You totally are! You’re pretending like you could feel sothing was wrong when in truth, your brother probably filled your head with whatever twisted version of things he believes."

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Josie, I didn’t lie. Thorne didn’t say anything specific. I just had a feeling sothing was weighing on you."

I turned to him sharply. "Don’t insult my intelligence. Don’t play that emotional intuition ga with when it’s clear you’re just covering his tracks."

The bed dipped as he sat beside , and I imdiately stood up, frustration bubbling like boiling water in my chest.

"Just stop with the gas!" I hissed. "I don’t need another man pretending to care only to choose blood over when it counts. You and your brother are the sa."

He stood up slowly. "You don’t get to say that."

I stared at him. "Excuse ?"

"You heard ," he said, his tone more clipped now. "You don’t get to say that when all I’ve done is think about you. Care about you. Be here for you. And all you do is assu the worst."

"I can’t help how I feel!" I shouted, voice cracking slightly.

"And that makes you selfish," he shot back, the words like a slap to my face. "You think everything is about your pain. Your story. Your trauma. But I’m standing right here, Josie. Doing everything I can to help, and it’s never enough for you."

I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to hold back the sting behind my eyes. "You don’t get to judge like that."

"Why not?" he barked. "Do you think you’re the only one with wounds? You want honesty? Fine—Thorne was right to keep his distance from you."

I froze.

"What?" I whispered.

"This—us—it’s not working," he said, his voice rough, his eyes flashing. "You twist every good intention into sothing dark. And you think that just because you’ve been hurt, it gives you the right to hurt everyone around you."

His words shattered sothing in . My breath caught, and my knees almost buckled. But I caught myself.

"I never asked for this," I whispered.

"No," he said. "But you welcod it. And the mont it got too real, you tried to sabotage it like you always do."

He turned toward the door.

"Varen—" I said, voice trembling. "Please don’t go. I just—You don’t need to judge so harshly. I’m trying."

He let out a bitter laugh. "And I’m not? Do you think it’s easy being caught in the middle of this ss? Between you and Thorne? Between what I want and what I should do?"

"I just want soone to stay," I whispered. "I just... I didn’t an to push you away. I swear."

He glanced at —tired, disappointed.

"You talk about people judging you," he muttered. "But you’ve been doing the sa thing since the start. You don’t give anyone the benefit of the doubt. You just assu we’ll all hurt you eventually."

"Because they always do!" I snapped. "Because every ti I let soone close, they rip apart!"

"And maybe that’s why Thorne gave up on you," he said coldly. "Because it’s impossible to love soone who’s built a wall around herself and then blas everyone else for not breaking through."

Tears spilled freely now. I didn’t even bother to wipe them. I was too stunned. Too broken.

"I didn’t an it like that," I whispered. "I’m just scared."

Varen shook his head and opened the door.

"Then maybe it’s ti you stopped being scared," he said. "Because if you keep this up, you’ll lose everyone who ever gave a damn."

And then he left.

Just like that.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed was deafening. I stood there for a long ti, unsure of what had just happened—unsure of how I had gone from being held in soone’s arms to standing alone in the wreckage of another crumbled connection.

I sat back on the bed, staring blankly at the wall, tears falling one after another. No sobs. No sound. Just the endless stream of grief.

Why did I always ruin things?

Why did loving feel like a burden for everyone?

The bed still slled like him. His scent was still on my skin. His warmth still clung to the sheets.

And yet, I’d never felt colder in my life.