"You're awake," he says, setting the tray on the table. "I figured you'd need caffeine and sugar. Got those cinnamon rolls you used to like from the bakery."
"They're still open? I haven't been there in so long. I thought Mr. Miller retired. Devin didn't like cinnamon rolls, so I stopped going there."
"His daughter runs it now. Same recipes though." Tyler hands me a coffee cup. "Two creams, one sugar."
"You remember how I take my coffee?"
"I told you, Liv. I remember everything."
Something warm unfurls in my chest at his words, at the way his eyes hold mine for just a beat too long as I take my coffee.
"What time is it?" I ask, trying to reorient myself.
"Just after nine. You needed the rest." Tyler opens the bag, revealing enormous cinnamon rolls dripping with icing. "Breakfast?"
The cinnamon roll is exactly as good as I remember. Sweet and spicy and comforting. For a few minutes, we could be anywhere, just two old friends sharing breakfast, not hiding from an abusive ex in a motel room.
But reality can only be held at bay for so long.
"So, what's the plan?" I ask finally, wiping sticky fingers on a napkin. "For today. For Devin."
Tyler sets his coffee down, his expression shifting into something more focused, more calculating. "Brady's opens at eleven on Sundays. Devin will probably be there by noon for the first games. I'll head over around one, once he's settled in. Have our conversation."
"And if he doesn't listen to reason?"
Tyler's eyes harden. "Then we move to plan B."
"Which is?"
"A more physical demonstration of my seriousness."
I set my coffee down. "Tyler, I want to come with you."
His head snaps up. "Absolutely not."
"It's about me. My relationship. My choice to end it."
"It's too dangerous. You saw his texts. Heard his voicemails. He's volatile."
"Exactly," I press. "Which is why I need to be the one to tell him it's over. Not you. Not some stranger he's never met who shows up making threats."
Tyler shakes his head. "You're not going anywhere near him."
"If I don't face him, I'll always be running. Always looking over my shoulder." I meet his gaze steadily. "I need to do this, Tyler. I need to stand up to him. Show him he doesn't control me anymore."
"And what if he lashes out? Tries to hurt you? Are you ready for that?" Tyler's voice is tight with tension.
"That's why you'll be there," I say simply. "I trust you to keep me safe."
He studies me for a long moment, and I can almost see the battle playing out behind his eyes. The protective instinct warring with the recognition of what I'm asking for. What I need.
"If—and this is a big if—I let you come," he says finally, "you agree to my terms. All of them."
"Which are?"
"You stay behind me at all times. If I tell you to leave, you leave immediately. No questions, no arguments." His voice is deadly serious. "And you let me handle it if he gets aggressive. You don't try to calm him down or reason with him. You get to safety. Understood?"
I nod slowly. "I understand."
