“You deserve different, Allie.”
That, I can believe.
Later, I cry into Austin’s pillow, snuggled beneath blankets to muffle the sounds. My shoulders shake, whole body wrenching with each sob as I surrender to the most world-shattering thought I’ve had in a long, long time.
That I deservedifferent.
Chapter
Six
ALLIE
Soft red and blue flannel brushes my cheek as I turn, sinking deeper into warmth. Pine sap and smoke whisper where I am. The quiet confirms it.
I’m still here.
In the light of morning, that realization doesn’t feel as dangerous as it should. It doesn’t feel wrong.
Last night, though.
God.
I press my lips together as memory rolls back in—of a silent man, too generous, too steady. And a woman unraveling in front of him. Chaos follows her everywhere.
No wonder Trevor always said I was too much.
My thoughts drift to him unbidden. To bars and concrete. To rage simmering under control. He’ll hate me for this. Or maybe he won’t care at all.
That last thought should land harder than the others.
Why doesn’t it?
The question feels external, as if someone else placed it in my mind. I trace the bruises on my wrist, then the tender place at my shoulder. Shame rises, familiar and sharp.
Not fear. Not pain.
Something else.
Different.
I sit up slowly, the room cooler now that I’ve left the bed. The borrowed toothbrush and toothpaste sit neatly on the dresser where I placed them last night, like someone thought ahead for me. I don’t know what to do with that.
My clothes from yesterday need to be washed. After a moment’s hesitation, I pull on a flannel from the dresser, socks that bunch at my ankles, and a pair of sweatpants far too big. I look ridiculous. I also feel strangely held.
The fabric smells like him. Wood smoke. Soap. Clean.
I push the thought away.
At the window, I part the curtain and see him outside, splitting logs. His movements are economical. No wasted effort. He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t linger. The axe rises and falls in a steady rhythm.
There’s nothing showy about it. Nothing performative.
And that unsettles me more than anything.
I’m still watching when he stops and looks up. Our eyes meet through the glass. He tips his hat once and turns back to his work.
That’s it.
