“Then why are you crying like someone died?”
My throat tightens. “Because I don’t think he’ll ever want to see me again,” I admit, my voice breaking. “I think… I think he believes I was with him just because I wanted to forget Joe.”
Saying that name still hurts—but saying it to my dad feels different. Safer. He knows what Joe did to me.
Dad pulls me into a hard hug—one that very clearly translates toif I ever see that guy, I will end him—then lifts my chin.
He kisses my forehead.
“I think,” he says, with that unshakable dad certainty, “he’ll understand.”
Then his gaze shifts—just over my shoulder.
I turn.
Cohen is there.
He came back.
He’s standing a few steps away, hands in his pockets, watching us. He looks exhausted—wrecked—but he’s here.
My dad gives me a small pinch at my side.
“I love you, baby girl.”
Then he walks toward Cohen.
My heart stops.Oh my God. He’s going to hit him.
But Julian Heart stops in front of his number nine.
They hold each other’s gaze for a long, charged second.
Man to man.
Then my dad lifts a hand and claps Cohen on the shoulder. Not gentle. Firm. Heavy with meaning.
A warning. And a blessing.
Cohen absorbs the impact without flinching, meeting his eyes.
Dad nods once. Then he turns and walks back toward the bus without looking back.
He leaves us alone.
Cohen stays in the shadow of the trees.
And I’m standing here in full sunlight—
my heart in my hands.
66
No Exit Clause
Cohen
I see Julian Heart walking toward me.
