If I kept trying to be the man she deserved, nothing would’ve changed.
If I kept pretending I didn’t feel what I feel, nothing would’ve changed.
She took the step I should’ve taken months ago.
And now I’m standing here with the consequences and the freedom.
Both hurt.
Both matter.
I push up from the couch and turn off the last lamp. The room falls into shadow. Quiet. Still. Honest.
As I make my way down the hall toward the bedroom, toward a bed that feels half-empty for the first time, I say it again under my breath, not as an apology this time, but as a truth.
“She deserved better.”
The house absorbs the words like it’s been waiting for them.
And maybe it has.
I flip off the hallway light and let the darkness settle in.
Tomorrow, I’ll figure out what moving forward looks like.
Tonight, I sit with the choice she made…
…and the one I have to make next.
Chapter Twelve
Wrong Man, Wrong Moment
Sarah
Emma is watching me the way people watch a car accident they can’t stop. Chin propped on her hand, eyes narrowed, lips pursed like she’s waiting for me to crack.
“I’m fine,” I say for the third time.
“You’re lying,” she says without even blinking. “And you’re terrible at it.”
I groan into my coffee. “Em—”
“Nope.” She leans in, forearms on the table. “You already told me you had feelings for him, so don’t try to backpedal now.”
“Emma—”
“And you need to stop hiding in your house and pretending binge-watching murder docs is a personality trait.”
“It is when they’re well-made.”
She gives me the least amused look I’ve ever seen. “Sarah. She filed for divorce, and moved out months ago. Anyone with eyes canseethat. And before you ask, no, I didn’t hear it from Jace. Ethan’s home for his bye week, and he let it slip he was worried about him.”
My stomach drops even though I was thinking it might be possible.
She doesn’t stop. “And now that you’ve admitted, multiple times, that you’re in love with a man you’re trying desperately not to think about, we’re not doing this whole hermit routine again.”
“Em—”
