I tug the wire tighter than necessary, my gloves squeaking against the metal. “We have a job to do.”
“We do.” He leans his elbows on the fence, watching me. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk while we do it.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“So…” Knox stays quiet for a collective five minutes, if that. “You told him to leave… And he just… left.”
“Looks that way,” I sass, though it isn’tjustthat wayat all.
“And you’re fine with that?”
I focus on twisting and setting the post, anything to avoid looking up and meeting his eyes. “He made his choice.”
Knox studies me in silence for a moment, then says softly, “Youtoldhim to go.”
“I didn’t tell him he had to listen. He could’ve stayed. He could’ve fought.”
He runs a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face. “Teag,” he sighs my name, “you love him.”
“Yeah,” I agree quietly. “I do.”
“Then call him.” The words come out like it’s obvious. Like it’s easy.
I laugh once, sharp and humorless. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because helied.”
Knox’s brow furrows. “But did he?”
“Yes.” My voice rises despite myself. “He let mebelieveI knew him. He let me fall for him without telling me who he really was.Thatkind of omission is just as bad as an outright lie.”
Knox opens his mouth, then closes it again.
I press on, the frustration spilling over. “Do you know how it felt, standing there, looking at that poster? Seeing his face under stage lights and realizing there’s an entire version of him that filled arenas, and he never thought I deserved to know?”
“Maybe that guy doesn’t matter to him anymore,” Knox counters.
“Yeah, well, it matters to me.”
He nods slowly. “Okay. Fair.”
I turn back to the fence, pretending my hands aren’t shaking.
“I felt stupid,” I admit, the words sharp and bitter on my tongue. “I’m just a small-town country girl from a place most people don’t even know about. And he’s someone who has whole crowds chanting his name. He could have anyone he wants.”
“Had,” Knox corrects. “And he choseyou.”
“You know what I mean.
“Teag,” he says gently, “you’re miserable.”
“I am not.”
“I haven’t seen you smile since he left.”
I flash him an obnoxious, big, toothy grin that has no heart behind it. “Better?”
