The truth.
If I go, I risk losing her.
If I stay, I risk losing the dream I built my entire identity around.
Either way, something breaks.
I shove the card into my pocket like I’m hiding it from myself. “I have to go.”
Carter nods once. “Go.”
I slide out of the booth and head for the door, heart heavy, mind louder than the diner’s neon hum.
Outside, the late afternoon sun hits my face, warm and normal, like the universe didn’t just hand me a crossroads.
My phone buzzes as I reach my truck.
A text.
Sloane: meeting go okay? drive safe.
It’s so simple it nearly kills me.
Because she’s not asking if I’m leaving.
She’s not demanding I choose her.
She’s just…there.
Waiting.
Trusting.
I stare at the screen until the letters blur, then type back with hands that feel too big for the moment.
yeah. I’m on my way.
And as I start the engine, all I can think is?—
Two weeks.
Two weeks to figure out how to want two things without tearing myself in half.
49
LOGAN
The porch light is still on when I pull into the driveway, throwing a soft, tired glow across the Rhodes’ house like it’s been waiting up.
It makes my chest tighten in a way I don’t have time to deal with.
Because the last place I want to be is in my own head tonight—stuck in that diner booth, stuck in Carter’s voice, stuck in the wordstwo weekslike they’re tattooed to the inside of my skull.
Two weeks to decide what kind of man I am.
Two weeks to decide what I’m willing to lose.
I kill the engine and sit there for a second, hands still on the wheel, listening to the quiet. Not the peaceful kind. The kind that feels too big for a house this small. The kind that means the person who used to fill it is gone.
