He laughed, hollow and sharp. “Right. You, doing what? Slinging cocktails for fancier assholes?”
The jab hit old bruises.
She didn’t break. “You think that’s all I’m capable of?”
He gave her a shrug that said nothing. Somehow, that said plenty. You’re just running. That’s all you’ve ever done.”
“No,” she said quietly. “That’s whatyou’vedone. Sat still. Waited for everyone else to fail so you don’t have to feel small.”
He blinked.
She stepped forward.
“You’ve always wanted me to shrink. Because if I outgrew this town. If I outgrew you, then you’d have to face what you’ve wasted.”
His face cracked.
She didn’t let him gather the pieces.
Didn’t give him space to lie.
“You don’t dream, Chad. You resent people who do.”
Silence snapped between them, sharp as a slap.
Then he sneered. “You think you’re getting a clean slate? You’re making yourself a bigger target.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You never cared about that,” she said, quieter now. “Not really.”
His posture stiffened. “You didn’t care when I told you I was scared. You laughed. You didn’t believe me until he showed up. And even then, it wasn’t concern. It was control. You hated the idea of someone else getting close enough to challenge your grip.”
He faltered.
She didn’t.
“That’s what this has always been about. Your pride.”
She stepped back, gaze unwavering.
“You don’t get to pretend it was concern. Not when it neverlookedlike protection.”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came. A curse left his lips instead, sharp and bitter as he turned and disappeared into the dark.
She didn’t watch him go.
She didn’t need to.
Her shoulders eased with every step forward.
This wasn’t just a goodbye to Chad. It was the end of a story she never agreed to be written into.
For once, her choices didn’t weigh like burdens.
They settled like a foundation beneath her feet.
?
