His hand curled into a fist and dropped.
“We’re good together. Everyone says so. My colleagues like you. You fit.”
I thought of every dinner where I swalloweddiscomfort and let myself fade into the wallpaper because it was easier than explaining why a comment stung. I thought of every time he said, Don’t make a thing of it.
“Everything is ready. I’m ready. You just need to say yes.”
“I’m saying no.”
His eyes hardened. The ring box snapped shut with a sharp click. He slid it back into his pocket with careful precision, not like a man defeated but rather a man recalculating.
“This isn’t the smart choice,” he said calmly. “You won’t find better than me.”
“I’ll take my chances.” Turning, I wanted to run, but my purse was inside the house. I needed to get it, then I’d get far away from this place. His hand shot out. He grabbed my arm just above the elbow, squeezing hard enough to send pain up my shoulder. He yanked me closer, his breath hot on my cheek.
“Don’t walk away from me.” Resentment burned in his eyes. Entitlement. Not love. Never love.
“Let go of me,” I pleaded, but he didn’t. “I said let go.” This time, my voice came from somewhere deep, scraped raw with fury. He hesitated, then released me. I jerked back so fast the railing bit into my spine. His fingers left a burning touch on my skin.
“You’ll regret this,” he whispered. “You’ll see what you threw away.”
It wasn’t fear that settled in me. It was clarity. “I’m not the one who threw anything away. Your cheating, your demands, and now this,” I said as I lifted my arm, “you threw it away.”
Confusion flickered across his face, sharp and brief. “Where are you going?” he demanded.
“Away.” I opened the door and stepped back inside. The noise of the dinner party crashed over me, voices, clinking glasses, a burst of laughter. The air smelled like roasted meat, rosemary, and money.
His mother spotted me, her eyes twinned briefly, like she knew what happened, but she took a step back as I frowned when I saw her. “Everything okay, dear?”
“Fine.” I kept walking. The front door loomed ahead, and my purse sat on the table. My hand shook as I grabbed my bag and reached for the door. I didn’t stop. Not for her. And certainly not for him.
Outside, the city air slapped me with humidity and exhaust. The sky was a bruised gold, the last light clinging to the clouds. Music thumped from an apartment window. A child laughed somewhere down the street. An ordinary life, one that was normal and unremarkable. For a moment, it made my eyes sting.
My phone buzzed in my purse. Twice. Then again. I ignored it until I couldn’t, then pulled it out with unsteady fingers. Sixteen messages.
Colin: Tessa, come back.
Colin: You’re not thinking straight.
Colin: Don’t embarrass me.
Colin: We need to talk about this like adults.
Cold tightened low in my stomach. I clicked the screen off and kept walking. The station wasn’t far. The streetlights flickered on as I reached the next block. My phone buzzed again, insistently, but I didn’t look this time. I already knew. Colin never apologized. He never explained, only twisted the narrative to fit what made him look good.
But tonight, I didn’t have to play his game.
The platform smelled like hot metal. A train screeched as it approached, headlights carving a bright path along the tracks. The doors opened with a sigh. I stepped inside, wrapped myfingers around the rail, and caught my reflection in the dark window.
Same hair. Same freckles. Same tired eyes. But the girl looking back at me wasn’t pretending to be lucky anymore. My phone buzzed again.
Colin: Tessa, don’t ignore me.
Colin: Bitch, this isn’t over.
I locked the screen, slid the phone back into my purse, and held on as the train lurched forward. I’d blown up my life with one word. I couldn’t tell the future, but I knew, with perfect certainty, that it wasn’t with him.
Three
