Claire smiled smugly. “He’ll come to his senses tonight. When he’s laying in that bed alone.”
Sara turned slowly, fury simmering behind her eyes. “No, Claire. He’s used to being alone. You didn’t break him—you reminded him why alone isn’t always the worst thing.”
Claire’s brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“You were his change,” Sara said, voice low. “But his life doesn’t need you. He was fine before. And now, he knows he’ll be fine after.”
Claire rolled her eyes and stepped out of the SUV. “He’ll be texting me any minute. You’ll see.”
Sara didn’t answer. Just shook her head and walked inside.
The house was quiet, but tense. Macie stood in the kitchen with a drink in her hand, eyes narrowing the second Claire walked in.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “I walked in mid-conversation. What’s this about his world not revolving around her?”
“I meant exactly what I said,” Sara replied, dropping her keys on the counter. “She thinks Jaxon should bend at every whim like he’s lucky to be here. Meanwhile, he’s been nothing but good to her.”
Claire rolled her eyes and walked upstairs without a word, the slam of her bag hitting the floor echoing down the hallway.
“What the hell happened?” Macie asked.
“She got mad because he didn’t cook a Michelin-star dinner or follow her inside for a movie,” Sara replied. “He made chicken cordon bleu quesadillas and wanted to sit in the porch swing and watch the storm roll in.”
Macie blinked. “That’s... actually really sweet.”
“I know, right?” Sara snapped. “Hell, I’d have been happy with a grilled cheese and his hoodie.”
Taylor joined them, eyebrows raised. “Didn’t he say he was tired too?”
“Yeah. But he still made her dinner. Still invited her outside to share something meaningful. And because he didn’t follow her like a dog, she stormed out like he broke some unspoken contract.”
Macie took a long sip. “She’s going to ruin this. She doesn’t even see it.”
“Doesn’t care either,” Taylor added. “She’s so used to being the center of gravity, she can’t handle someone who doesn’t revolve around her.”
“I love her,” Sara sighed. “But sometimes? She’s a damn handful.”
Macie nodded. “Yeah. A beautiful, wildly ungrateful handful.”
None of them noticed Claire standing at the top of the staircase—still, silent, eyes wide.
She heard every word.
Her throat tightened, heart pounding harder with every insult that wasn’t meant to be overheard. Spoiled. Ungrateful.Self-centered.
The truth, raw and loud and echoing.
And it hurt.
But it should hurt.
Claire went back to her room and shut the door softly this time. No slamming. No stomping. Just silence.
She picked up her phone, expecting missed calls, a text. Something. Anything.
Nothing. Not a single message.
No “where are you?”
