"Without you in it," I finished. "That's the trade, right? Your freedom for my security. You play dutiful son in Dallas, I get a million-dollar consolation prize, and we both pretend the last three months meant nothing."
"It meant everything." His voice cracked completely. "Winnie, it meant—you mean—God, I'm doing this because I—"
"Don't." I cut him off, tears streaming hot and unstoppable. "Don't you dare say you love me while you're negotiating the terms of leaving. Love doesn't make deals, Beau. Love doesn't hide for four days because it's 'complicated.' Love shows up. It fights."
"Iamfighting. For you. For us—"
"There is no us!" The words ripped out, gutting me. "Because you chose. Four days ago when you landed in Dallas. You chose Sterling Industries, the penthouse parties, the life you always belonged to. And I get it. That's who you are."
"That's not fair—"
"No, what's not fair is you deciding for me!" I shouted, ignoring the nurse's glare. "I didn't ask for your dad's money. We've survived this long on grit and Jameson stubbornness, and we'll survive this too. Without Sterling charity."
"Winnie, please—" His voice was wrecked. "I miss you. Every second I'm here, I miss you so much it's like someone carved out my chest. I'm breaking here, Win. And I thought—if I could just fix the money part, then maybe—"
"Maybe what? You could leave guilt-free?" My voice dropped to a whisper, broken. "I miss you too, Beau. So much I can barely function. But missing you doesn't change what you did. You hid. Made decisions for me. And now you're asking me to what—be grateful?"
"I'm asking you to let me help."
"By leaving."
"By making sure you're okay when I do."
The truth landed like a punch.When, not if. He'd already decided.
"I called you tonight," I said quietly, all the fight draining out, "because I was terrified. Because I felt so alone I could barely breathe. But you weren't there. You were at a party, making deals I never asked for. And now I'm realizing—you're never going to be there. Not really. Because Dallas will always pull harder than I ever could."
"That's not true—"
"Isn't it?" I slid down the wall, exhaustion crashing over me. "You're there. I'm here. And there's a million-dollar price tag on the distance."
"Winnie—" His voice broke on my name.
"I have to go," I whispered. "Pops might be out soon."
"Wait—please don't hang up. We can figure this out—"
"There's nothing to figure out. You made your choice." I closed my eyes. "Goodbye, Beau."
"Winnie, I lo—"
I hung up.
The wordsI loveechoed in the dead air, unfinished and unbearable. I stared at the phone, then let it clatter to the floor as sobs clawed up my throat. I buried my face in my knees, shoulders heaving.
Footsteps approached—soft, cautious. The night nurse crouched beside me. "Honey? Your grandfather's out of surgery. He's in recovery. Doctor wants to talk to you."
I looked up, vision blurred. "Is he okay?"
"He made it through. Come on."
As I followed her down the fluorescent corridor, phone abandoned on the floor, I felt the crack in my chest widen into a chasm.
Pops had survived. But something in me—something bright and hopeful I'd carried since a blue-eyed city boy showed up at my ranch—had died on that call.
And in Dallas, I knew Beau was breaking too.
WINNIE
