"I don't think that's a good idea." I'm being cruel, and I know it, but a clean break now is better than messier pain later. Nothing good can come of this. "I'm just starting to rebuild my life, and getting involved withanyoneright now would be a mistake."
"It wouldn't have to be complicated," he argues, standing now, pulling on his jeans. "We could take it slow."
I almost laugh at that. There's nothing slow about how we combusted together, twice now. Nothing measured or careful about the way my body responds to his.
That's the problem.
"I had a really good time," I say, softening my tone. “You’re an incredible lover. But I need to focus on me right now. On school, on figuring out what I want."
"And I'm not what you want." It's not quite a question.
I don't answer directly. "I want my degree. I want to build a career. I want stability."
His eyes flick around his ostentatious apartment, and I can tell he sees it differently now, through my eyes. "Right. And this doesn't fit that goal.”
"It's not about your place, Tucker. It's about… I just... can't."
He nods, disappointment evident but accepting. "At least let me walk you down."
"No need." I'm already at the elevator, pressing the button. “Thank you for returning my necklace."
My fingers go to the pendant at my throat, and for a moment, I'm tempted to stay. To return to the warmth of his arms, the safety I felt there. But that's the trap, isn't it? Feeling safe with a man, only to discover you've lost yourself in his world.
The elevator arrives with a soft chime. Tucker stands in the middle of his living room, looking suddenly small against the dramatic city view behind him. As the doors close between us, I see him open his mouth as if to say something more, but it's too late.
Alone in the elevator, I catch my reflection in the mirrored wall. My hair is a riot of curls, my lips still swollen from his kisses, the necklace gleaming at my throat. I look well-fucked and slightly wild.
I also look like a woman about to make the same mistake twice.
"Not this time," I whisper to my reflection. "This time, you choose you."
I think of the years I spent orbiting Josh's life like a moon, reflecting his light, defined by his career. How I'd shrunk myself to fit into the spaces he left for me, until one day I realized there was almost nothing left of the woman I'd been before.
Dr. Rivera, my therapist during the divorce, had made me promise: no serious relationships for at least a year. "You need to remember who you are first," she'd said. "What you want, separate from anyone else's expectations."
I was doing well—getting back into school, building a friendship with Mel, finding my footing. I can't risk that progress, not even for the intoxicating connection I feel with Tucker. Especially not for that. The stronger the pull, the greater the danger.
As I step out into the night air, I take a deep breath. I made the right choice. I know I did.
So why does it feel so much like loss?
"He said what?" Mel's eyes widen over her pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream. We're sitting on our small balcony, the city lights twinkling around us. I'd barely made it through the door before she pounced with questions.
"He asked me to stay," I repeat, digging into my own container of cookie dough. "Like, for the night."
"And you said no." It's not a question. She knows me too well.
"Of course, I said no. He works with Josh.”
Mel gives me a look. "And that's the only reason?"
I sigh, setting down my spoon. “There’s no universe wherethis works out. I can't get involved with anyone right now, especially not someone like him."
"Someone like him," she echoes. "You mean gorgeous, clearly into you, and good in bed?"
“Also a fighting brute, party boy with countless women tossing underpants at him.” I gesture vaguely in the direction of downtown, where Tucker's penthouse kisses the skyline. "The fancy apartment, the expensive everything, the...superficiality of it all."
Mel studies me for a moment. "Is that really what bothers you? Or are you scared that you might actually like him?"
