He sees it in my silence and steps closer, careful not to crowd me.
“I can fix this,” he says softly. “I’ve already started laying the groundwork. There’s a position waiting for you. Different group. Different structure. No headlines. No baggage.”
I shake my head. “You can’t fix what you broke.”
“I can give you your life back,” he counters gently. “The one you worked for. The one you wanted.”
“You mean the one you took from me.”
He exhales slowly, disappointed but not surprised. “You’re angry. I get that. But don’t make permanent decisions based on a temporary wound.”
The words hit because they sound so reasonable.
“You don’t belong here,” he adds, gesturing vaguely at the street. “This town, this ranch… it’s a hiding place. You were never meant to shrink yourself this way.”
“I’m not shrinking,” I say. “I’m healing.”
“By running away?” His tone is still calm, but there’s steel underneath now. “You think cooking family meals and playing house is going to fulfill you?”
My spine straightens. “It fulfills me more than being disposable ever did.”
“That’s not fair,” he snaps, then immediately reins it in. “I invested in you. I pushed you because I believed in you.”
“You used me,” I say quietly.
His jaw tightens. “I gave you opportunities no one else would have.”
“And you took everything when it suited you,” I shoot back. “Including my voice.”
The charm wavers. The mask slips just enough for me to see irritation flash beneath it.
“So that’s it?” he asks. “You’re choosing this place over your career?”
“I’m choosing myself.”
That’s when his hand shoots out.
Fingers wrap around my wrist, firm and unyielding, anchoring me in place before I can step back.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he says sharply, the warmth gone. “Not after everything.”
My breath stutters. Panic flares hot and fast.
“Let go,” I say.
“You owe me a conversation,” he snarls under his breath. “I made you.”
The words are the last crack in the dam.
“Get your hands off me,” I shout, loud enough that people turn.
His grip tightens for half a second. Long enough to remind me exactly who he is when he doesn’t get his way.
And Ihatewho he is when he doesn’t get his way.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Boone
