He’s good. Too good.
And for a heartbeat, I want to give in—to the steadiness in his voice, the version of him standing right in front of me.
I want to believe that flicker of hope.
But I know him. And I know myself.
I know that if I let this keep going—if I let him believe there’s still room to try—I won’t make it through this week intact. I’ll start hoping again. Waiting again. Losing myself again.
“I’ve already given you so many chances,” I say quietly. “I can’t… I can’t anymore.”
He exhales, sharp and unguarded, and suddenly, it feels like the walls in the cabin are closing in on me.
“I used to know who I was,” I go on, because I need him to understand this part, at least. “But this past year—when I felt you slipping away—I didn’t recognize myself anymore. I hatedthe person I was becoming. Angry. Anxious. Always waiting for you to come home. To come… back.”
My throat tightens. “I can’t live like that again.”
He doesn’t move. Just says my name, softly. “Ash?—”
And I know—if I don’t end it now, I won’t be able to later.
So I say the one thing that will stop him.
The one thing I need to believe if I’m gonna survive this.
“I don’t love you anymore.”
The words fall between us like glass shattering.
All the sounds I’d been hearing a few minutes ago seem to have been sucked out of the air.
Then there’s the rustle of fabric, the soft scrape of a drawer. A pause. And the door opening.
It’s the same pattern, the same quiet retreat. Somewhere along the line, he stopped fighting with me.
He stopped fightingforme.
RECKLESS
BECKETT
I’m mad.
Pissed.
But not at her.
At myself.
The cabin door shuts behind me, and I just start walking. No idea where I’m headed. My pulse is pounding, my brain a hurricane of everything I should’ve said—everything I thought would work.
I’d really believed I could talk her around.
Hell, I’d half expected I could earn my way back into that bed with her. Take advantage of the romance, the stateroom, the champagne I’d ordered, now sitting in a bucket of cold water.
One good night—that’s all it should take to start fixing things.
At least, that’s what I’d told myself.
