“The gala…” His voice caught. My eyes lifted, locking onto his. “Shall I—”
I cut him off with a small shake of my head. “I think I can look aftermyself now.”
My eyes raked over him, in the way that you only ever looked at something when you knew you were never going to see it again. Or at least see it the same. And I think that's what hurt more. From now one I wouldn't smile when I looked over at his door. I wouldn't get that buzz in my stomach whenever I smelt him. And I wouldn't feel like I was worthy of love when his eyes found mine, even in the busiest of crowds.
Before I took a step back, my shook fell, before I wrapped my arms around my torso like chainmail, and dared to look into those eyes I loved one last time. "Don't do the boombox thing." Another tear. "I don't think my heart would be strong enough to tell me to stay away."
And before I could fall even deeper for a man who couldn’t catch me, I twisted the key, pushed the door open, and slipped inside.
Only when it clicked shut behind me did, I let go.
I crashed back against the wall, knees buckling as I slid to the floor. And there, in the quiet, with no one left to see me unravel, I finally let the sobs tear through me. Let the tears fall—unapologetic and endless.
Because nothing hurt like being brave, and still ending up alone.
chapter forty
there she goes
Ithrew my back against the door and slid down onto the porch, the night air cutting through the heat in my chest, slicing through the tears I didn’t even try to stop.
I didn’t know why I couldn’t say it.
No—that was a lie.
Ididknow.
I loved her.
Of course Ifuckingloved her.
But something about saying it—admitting it out loud—felt dangerous. Likeopening a door I couldn’t close again. Like stepping into something I didn’t know how to protect her from.
She wasn’t just someone I cared about. She was it. The one I’d burn the world for to keep safe.
The one I'd burn for.
And that’s exactly why the words caught in my throat.
Because if I said it, if I named it, it became real. Vulnerable. Breakable.
And history’s taught me one thing: the moment I love something, it gets takenaway.
When she said it, I wanted to shout it back. I wanted to grab her face and say,
Yes, Cora. Yes, I love you. I think I always have.
But my voice… it seized.
The same way it used to when I was a kid, when my sister cried and I couldn’tdo a damn thing to stop it. When I stood there, frozen, watching everything fall apart.
I felt that same panic rising tonight—tight in my chest, cruel in my throat. Andinstead of being who she needed, I choked. Again.
And now?
Now maybe I’ve lost the only girl I’ve ever loved.
Because I was too fucking scared of losing her.
