I grabbed my coat from the rack by the door, shrugging it on as the cool air rushed in. “See you in the morning,” I said, stepping outside.
The night was crisp, quiet except for the crunch of snow under my boots. The cabin was a few hundred feet from the house, but out in the dark, it was its own world. The soft glow from its window was the only light in a sea of winter black.
I pushed open the door, and Jeremy was slouched on the small sofa, elbows on his knees, head bent. The cabin was one room with a queen bed in the corner, a tiny kitchenette tucked along one wall, the sofa where he sat, and no TV. Just the hum of the heater and the faint creak of the old wood under my boots.
He looked up when I stepped inside, his gaze dragging over me from head to toe like he couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed or relieved.
“It’s just the two of us,” he murmured.
41
luna
I toed off my boots, the floor cold under my socks, and crossed the short space to the couch. He didn’t move when I sat down, so I tucked myself into the corner beside him, knees bent toward his side, shoulder brushing his arm.
“You know,” I murmured, eyes on his profile, “we’ve never actually slept together.”
“Wouldn’t be my first choice,” he said flatly.
“Come on, Jer. What’s going on? I feel like I’ve been trying to get to you, but it’s like pushing against a brick wall. You don’t let me in.”
I tucked my legs up under me, refusing to give him space even though every line of his body screamed for it.
“What do you want from me, Jer?”
“I want your signature and you to come downstate and close the estate. That’s it. I need you to sign the papers so we can close, so I’m not stuck owing the ag company every cent they think they’re entitled to. That’s what I need from you.”
“You think I don’t fucking know that?”
His eyes flashed. “Then don’t make this into something it’s not. I’m not asking for the world, I’m asking for a signature. You come, you sign, and it’s done. You disappear again, and I’m still stuck, but at least the debt’s not hanging over me like a goddamn noose.”
“Disappear again?” I was on my feet before I even realized it, heat rushing into my face. “You make it sound like I wanted to leave. Like I woke up one morning and thought, ‘Gee, you know what would be fun? Walking away from the only two people I’ve ever—’ ” The words caught in my throat. “You were drowning in booze, Jer. You weren’t there. You were killing yourself, and I couldn’t?—”
“Couldn’t what? Stick around long enough to see me pull my head out of my ass?”
“I was half a world away and still checking every rumor. I did find you once, Jeremy. Austin did his big press conference, and there was a photo of you on your social media where you were still choosing the bottle over me.”
“Yeah. I was a drunk. Iwasa fuckup. I deserved for you to hate me. I deserved to lose you.” His eyes lifted to mine, furious and hurting at the same time. “But you still fucking left. And don’t tell me you didn’t mean it, because you didn’t come back.”
“You think leaving didn’t tear me apart? You think I didn’t lie awake every night wondering if you were dead, if you were eating, if you’d ever get sober? I hated you for it, Jer. I hated you for making me choose between loving you and saving myself.”
He pushed up from the couch, suddenly towering over me. “And I hated you for saving yourself. For walking away before you got burned again, even if it meant walking away from me.”
He curled his hands into fists, like he’d been holding this in for years. “But then I saw you with him.Will.” His tone darkened, almost spitting the name. “Yeah—what about Will, huh?”
“What about him?”
“You were… happy with him,” he bit out. “Perfect photos, perfect life. I figured—hell, Iassumed—you were going to marry the guy.”
I swallowed hard. “I almost did.”
He froze.
“I—what?” he rasped.
“I almost got engaged. I never posted or told anyone.”
His jaw tensed. “You never told me.”
