Revelation in a Kiss

The sharp sting of Tristan's slap lingered on my cheek as I stared at him in stunned disbelief. My fingers touched the spot where his hand had connected, coming away with a smear of blood from my split lip. The metallic taste filled my mouth.

"Sera..." Tristan's voice cracked, his face transforming from rage to horror as he looked at the blood. "I didn't mean—I'm so sorry—"

I took a step back, my legs trembling beneath me. "Get away from me."

"Please, let me help you," he pleaded, reaching toward me. "I lost control. It will never happen again."

"Don't touch me!" My voice rose, breaking on the last word. "Just go. Now."

Tristan hesitated, conflict warring in his expression before shame won out. He backed away, hands raised in surrender. "I'm sorry," he whispered again before turning and fleeing back toward the ballroom.