Forever. What a joke.
Cara stares out the passenger window. I can see her reflection in the glass—the set of her jaw, the shine of unshed tears. Her scent has gone muted, pulled in tight, like she’s trying to make herself smaller.
Good. This is good. This is what I wanted.
So why do my instincts feel like they’re clawing at my insides, demanding I fix this?
I grip the steering wheel tighter. My scent is locked down so hard it hurts. One crack. That’s all it would take. One moment of weakness, and everything I’ve built would come crumbling down.
When I pull into Eileen’s driveway, she doesn’t move for a long moment. Sits there, staring at the dashboard.
“Is that really what you think?” she finally asks. “That you don’t need me?”
I keep my eyes forward. “Does it matter?”
“It matters to me.”
I don’t answer. Can’t answer. If I speak now, everything I’ve held back will come pouring out. And the truth would destroy everything.
She waits another moment. Then she opens the door and climbs out.
“For what it’s worth,” she says, leaning down to look at me through the open door, “I don’t believe you. I felt your scent crack yesterday. I felt you shaking when your hand touched mine. You feel something, Nate Thorn, whether you want to admit it or not.”
She straightens up.
“And I’m not giving up on you. No matter how many walls you build.”
The door closes. She walks up the path to the house, and I watch her go, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles ache.
I should drive away. That’s the smart thing. The safe thing. Put the truck in reverse and go home and pretend this day never happened.
Instead, I sit there like an idiot, watching her climb the porch steps. Watching her pause at the door. Watching her look back at me one more time before she disappears inside.
She’s wrong. She has to be wrong.
Because if she’s right—if she can see through me that easily—then I’m in more trouble than I thought.
I put the truck in reverse and pull out of the driveway. My scent is still locked down. My face is still blank.
But underneath it all, something cracks.
A hairline fracture. Barely there.
But enough to hurt.
I don’t go straight home.
Instead, I drive. Out past the town limits, up into the mountains, through the winding roads I know by heart. I’vealways done my best thinking out here. Away from people. Away from expectations.
I pull off at a turnout and kill the engine. Sit there in the silence, staring at the snow-covered trees.
They need you. I don’t.
I thump my palm against the steering wheel. Stupid. That was stupid.
Theo’s going to kill me. Lucas is going to give me that disappointed look he’s been perfecting since medical school. And Cara...
Cara looked at me like I’d just confirmed every fear she had about coming back.
