The worry in her eyes. The hurt in her voice.
Her soft knock on the door. The empty space next to me in bed.
I drag a hand through my damp hair and stare at my clothes.
I know I can still stop this.
Know if I walk in the door, kiss her, tell her what I’m feeling she’ll forgive me, she’ll find a way to make it better.
But Chloe’s face keeps flashing through my mind too.
That tear sliding down her cheek, the sadness in her voice.
I could stop this, could hold on tighter.
But…it won’t last.
Because eventually, Finn will go.
And I can’t do that to Chloe.
Or, a very quiet voice in my mind whispers, is it that you can’t risk it for yourself?
I shove that away.
Then do the only thing I can: I get dressed, I avoid my teammates’ eyes—King’s in particular—and I get the hell out of the locker room.
I climb into my car, drive home, and spend the entire trip feeling like I’m walking toward my own execution.
And I’m not wrong.
Because when I get inside, Finn is waiting in the hall.
And I know this is going to kill something inside me.
Her eyes go straight to my face. “Are you okay?”
I almost laugh. Because, fuck, I’m so fucking far from okay.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
“I have some ice in the kitchen for your nose?—”
For a second, that throws me. Then I remember the fight. “No, Finn. I don’t need ice.”
I drop my bag to the floor, nudge it with my foot into the laundry room. Then move by her, heading for my office.
And the papers there.
“What’s going on?” she whispers.
I can’t answer that here in the hall.
Or maybe I just can’t answer it at all.
So, I keep walking.
And she follows me.Of courseshe does.
