“Oh, Teller.” Hopelessness was heavy in her eyes. “I don’t know who I am.”
I flinched. Goddammit. I had no response. I couldn’t make her stay. If she had to mold herself into the partner she thought I wanted, she’d never convince herself that I loved her for her. I loved her fire. Her drive. The way she’d told off our exes was hot. The joy on her face when she baked could sustain me for life. But it didn’t matter what I thought or how I felt. In the end, if she wasn’t happy, I wasn’t happy. “What are you going to do?”
She hugged herself harder. “I’m leaving.”
Nothing about her forlorn expression said she wanted to go, but the idea of staying here bothered her more. “Where?”
“Anywhere. Everywhere.”
“Okay.”
Hurt shone in her eyes and she swallowed. I wanted to take it all back. I didn’t want her to fucking leave. I wanted her by my side forever. I wanted to see her soar.
“Okay.” She took a step back, then another.
I squeezed my hands into fists, or I’d reach for her, but I’d become just another person holding her back.
She bit her lower lip, and her gaze stroked over the back of the bar. “Can you, uh, lock up here?”
Shock gut punched me. “You’re leavingnow?”
Distress rippled over her features. “I can’t go back in there.” She crept closer to her pickup. “I’ll call Cara. She’ll take care of the rest and get it up for sale.”
“Madison. Right now?” An invisible band constricted around my chest. What about her things? What about me? I wanted more time with her. A few more minutes. The selfish part of me hoped she’d change her mind if she stayed. I wanted forever, but if I loved her, then goddammit—I had to help her make what she wanted a priority.
She opened the pickup door. “I have to.”
“What about your stuff?”
“Do whatever with it.” She paused before she climbed in. “Thank you. For everything. I mean it. I’ll never forget you.”
Then she jumped in and tore off. Out of my life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Teller
I sat on the cot in the back room of the bar, my elbows propped on my thighs. I pressed my fingertips together, alternating the pressure. My phone was going wild in my pocket, but I ignored it.
She was gone.
Just like that.
I had woken up this morning wanting to be there for her on a tough day. I was ending the day without her. A single man.
I’d thought I’d spend my life with her. I hadn’t told her, and maybe that should’ve been a clue. I’d seen how she’d been caged in, doing what was right by people she should owe nothing to. Deep down, maybe I’d known that if she had a chance to leave, she’d be gone.
Why had I never thought about going with her? Had I been just another asshole who thought she wouldn’t have a choice?
I heard the footfalls before Tate leaned against the doorframe. “How’s she doing?”
I’d come right in here after she’d driven off, and my family had given me a wide berth. Tate had taken care of the police report, and the others had cleaned up the food, swept, and wiped down the bar. The paint would be dealt with another day. If I got my way, those little fuckers who did it would be scrubbing it off—with their faces. “She’s, uh, gone.”
“Yeah.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I can imagine that she needed space.”
“She wants all the space, Tate. She’sgone.”
He scratched his beard. “Sorry?”
