My gaze shifts to the window, to his house next door. The thought of him packing up, walking out of my life forever, ignites something inside me.
No. Like hell I’ll let him go without saying goodbye.
My knuckles tremble as I knock on Rafael’s door. The wood feels solid, unyielding beneath my touch, so different from the way I feel inside—cracked open, bleeding, barely holding together. I hear footsteps on the other side, and when the door swings open, the sight of him nearly undoes me.
His dark hair is wet, falling just above his intense gray eyes, and he’s wearing black sweatpants. They sit low on his hips, hanging loosely, and the matching worn T-shirt clings slightly to his broad shoulders and chest.
His face falls the moment he sees me. “Scarlett,” he says, his voice breathy. “Is everything okay?”
“Were you going to tell me?” I blurt out.
“What?”
“You sold the house.”
His lips part, and he looks down with a groan. “Fucking small-town bullshit,” he mumbles. “It happened two hours ago. Seriously,how—”
I swallow the lump in my throat, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Were you going to tell me or not?”
“Yes, of course I was. Scarlett, this was always part of the plan, okay? I’ve been staying here because of… well, you, but this house was never supposed to be a permanent solution. This is the place I spent the first twenty-one years of my life hating.”
He’s right, of course. But I’ve got too much pent-up anger now. “Where are you going, then?”
He pauses, as if trying to find the right words. “Scarlett, me leaving town makes your life easier.”
“Really? That’s how much I meant to you?” I snap. The casual dismissal of what we had, what we were, has tears blurring my vision, and I swipe at them angrily. “Five days after our breakup, you’re moving on?”
“Don’t say that,” he says, his voice rough. “Don’t imply that anything I said wasn’t the truth, that I’m not hurting. You have no fucking right to do that.”
“But you have the right to ignore me?” I hate how vulnerable I sound, but I can’t help it. “To have women come and go at all hours—”
“Prospective buyers.”
“—and to go on with your life, and talk, and work, while I’m there mourning the love story of my life?”
His anger dissipates in an instant, his expression softening into something that breaks my heart all over again. His mouth opens, but no words come out, and I realize I’ve said something I can’t take back. I can’t believe I said it like that—that I called it alove storythrough tears and anger, lashing out like a wounded animal.
“I’m not over anything, Scarlett,” he finally says. “I’m hurting. I’m breaking into pieces. I hate my life, and I hate this house, and I hateknowing you’re there, because I can’t come to you. It’s driving me insane. I hate seeing you not leave the house because you’re hurting, and not knowing exactly how much you’re hurting, and not being able to do shit to make you feel better anyway.”
I try to hold back the sobs, but it’s no use. All I want to do is throw myself into his arms. He steps forward and wraps me in his embrace, pulling me against him.
I cling to him, burying my face in his chest, his warmth the only thing keeping me from collapsing entirely.
“I have to leave, Scarlett,” he pleads. “I need you to be okay, to move on. And you can’t do that if I’m here, if you’re afraid of running into me every time you leave the house.”
We stand there for what feels like forever, my tears soaking into his shirt, his hand stroking my hair as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of it.
I can’t let him go. I don’t know how to.
Eventually, I calm down, my sobs turning into quiet, shuddering breaths. He leans back, and I see the tears on his cheeks matching mine. He wipes my cheek, his touch gentle, and I wish I could freeze this moment, hold on to him for just a little longer.
“How’s Ethan? I heard the hearing was rescheduled.”
I press my lips together in a tight line, feeling the weight of another worry pressing down on me. “I don’t know if he’ll show up. He won’t talk to me. I’mreallytrying, but…”
Rafael’s brow furrows. “He will, Scarlett. He knows how important this is. He’ll be there.”
I want to believe him, but doubt gnaws at me. “I miss you.”
