“Ask me, Amelia,” I snap, my chest heaving. “Ask me why I haven’t slept with anyone in two years.”
Her breath catches, a stutter slipping out on her lips. “W-why?”
“Because you’re the only one I’ve fucking wanted!” I roar, the sound ripping straight from my chest. “Every night, every fucking day, it’s been you. Only you!”
Her gasp pierces the air, her eyes wide and trembling with a mixture of fear and hope.
I reach for the chain around my neck, yanking it out from under my shirt. The wedding ring—my ring—swings between us, shining in the light. I choke out my words, voice breaking.
“Ask me why I wear my wedding ring around my neck, Amelia.” My throat tightens, “Ask me.”
Her tears spill, her lips parting, but no sound comes out.
“I’m begging you,” I rasp, my voice cracking. “I’m begging you to fucking see that this was never fake. That I never wanted it to be fake. I love you.Fuck, Amelia, I fucking love you.”
She doesn’t say anything as she crosses her arms around her chest tightly, tears falling down her cheeks.
“But you—” I jab a finger at her, then curl it back into my chest, my voice cracking under the weight. “You won’t let me in. You won’t let me prove it. Because you’re stuck inthe past, convinced every man is like that bastard who broke you.”
She lets out a broken sob, clutching the jersey tighter.
I grab the last page from the stack and shove it away, the paper scattering like confetti across the tile, worthless scraps of what never mattered anyway.
“Don’t let one fucking rotten man ruin the good one standing right in front of you.”
The silence after is heavy, broken only by my ragged breathing and the soft flutter of paper settling on the floor. I stand there, fists shaking, heart bare and bleeding, praying she finally hears me.
The papers still lie scattered on the wooden floor, and she’s standing there, trembling at the bottom of the stairs, tears streaking her face. For a second, the silence stretches so thin it feels like it might snap. My chest is heaving, my throat’s raw, and if I stay in this house one more second, I’m going to shatter completely.
I rake a shaking hand through my hair, swallowing down the burn in my throat. “You stay here. I’ll go.”
Her head jerks up, eyes wide, glistening. “Mav?—”
“If space is what you want,” I cut her off, “then I’ll give it to you.”
She flinches as her lips part, but I can’t look at her anymore. Not when it feels like my heart’s being ripped out of my chest.
I grab my keys off the counter, the metal clinking against my palm, and stalk to the door, slamming it shut loudly enough to echo back at me as I step into the night.
My Bronco waits in the driveway, its moss green chrome glinting under the porch light. I wrench the door open, throw myself behind the wheel, and press the start button with more force than necessary.
The engine roars to life, headlights flashing across the gravel. My chest feels tight, lungs seizing, but all I can think is that if I don’t get away, I’ll drop to my knees and beg her again.
And I can’t, not after this.
Reed doesn’t askquestions when I arrive at his door at midnight. Just lets me in with that unreadable stare, drops his keys in the bowl, and juts his chin toward the couch. “Beer?”
“Yeah,” I rasp.
He heads into his kitchen, returns with two bottles, and sinks into the chair across from me. The silence stretches, heavy but not uncomfortable. That’s Reed for you. He’s not gonna pry. He’ll just sit there until you start bleeding on your own.
And I do.
“I told her I loved her,” I say finally, staring at the condensation dripping down the glass in my hand. “Yelled it, actually. Ripped up the damn contract, told her it was never fake. Begged her to fucking see me.”
Reed doesn’t flinch or blink. Just takes a slow sip of his beer and waits.
“And then I left.”
