I’ve always known he slept with other women. I tried not to think about it. Tried to tell myself it didn’t matter because it wasn’treal.
Seeing it is different.
Seeing it breaks something open in my chest that I don’t think will ever close again.
Even after everything he’s said to me… even after every rejection… I still wanted him.
Still loved him.
And standing here, watching him touch someone else like that, I finally understand something with absolute clarity.
I will never move on as long as Tank is in my life.
Nothing is holding me back anymore. Tomorrow, I’m telling Bubby I’m moving out.
I take another step back…and that’s when Tank turns.
His eyes lock on me instantly.
Everything changes.
His hands release her like she burned him. His body goes rigid, anger flashing across his face as he pushes through the crowd toward me.
He stops inches away, towering over me, eyes dark and furious.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snaps. “Why are you in this club?”
He waits, jaw tight, like he’s owed an answer.
My heart cracks quietly.
This is it.
No more waiting. No more hoping.
I look up at him, all six-foot-something of anger and confusion, and instead of answering… I rise up onto my tiptoes.
I kiss his chin.
It’s brief. Almost reverent. And…so…freaking…devastating.
“Okay,” I say. “I get it now.”
His breath hitches.
“I’ve always loved you, Tank,” I continue quietly. “And I always will. But I finally understand.”
His hand twitches, like he’s about to grab me.
“You’ll never have to see me again.”
The words hit him like a punch, and his eyes widen.
“What?” he breathes, the anger gone, replaced with something raw and unsteady. “Abigail. Wait.”
I step back before he can touch me.
Then I turn and walk away.
