“I don’t know how to do this,” she said, quieter now. “It’s just going to end the same way.”
He watched her, helpless, as the carousel spun behind them and children’s laughter drifted through the air like a cruel reminder of everything good slipping out of reach. She was already gone, and he knew it.
He wanted to explain the ring. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t asking. Not yet. That he’d only brought it with him to show Sigrid, to talk about it all with his sister in the hopes that she’d help him to feel like less of a dick about how deep he was in it.
Instead? Sigrid had told him not to wait. And now he’d fucked everything up.
“I need to go home,” Holly said finally.
Something in Nate’s chest cracked. He’d known the words were coming. He’d almost heard them in his mind as soon as he’d sat on the bench next to her. They didn’t even hurt the way he thought they would. They just felt inevitable.
“Okay.” His voice was tight, like cling wrap stretched too far. “We go back to the hotel and pack. I’ll speak to the concierge about canceling the rest of our reservation.”
She shook her head. “No,” she cut him off. “You’ve already done enough.”
And that’s when he pushed back.“Don’t,Holly,” he said, his voice husky with unshed tears. “You wanna go? Fine. We’ll go. But don’t think for one second that I’m letting you make that trip alone. We don’t have to talk. You don’t even have to look at me if you don’t want to, but there’s no way I’m letting you go back to LA alone.”
She didn’t argue. He didn’t beg.
Nate just sat there, next to the only person who’d ever made him believe he could be more than the broken pieces of his past. He watched the city lights shimmer in her eyes as she slipped further and further out of his reach. For the first time since he met her, he had no idea how to stop it. Because this time, the only crime he was guilty of was loving her.
64
SELF-SABOTAGE IN SLOW MOTION
Holly
“I’ve been left before. This time I just... beat him to it.”
The hotel room felt smaller when they came back, as though the air had thickened into something difficult to breathe through. Copenhagen still glittered outside the window, the canal lights trembling on dark water like scattered stars. But it all felt distant now, like it belonged to another version of them. The version that had existed that morning, stealing croissants and laughing into coffee foam like idiots who didn’t know pain could sprint faster than joy.
Holly limped in first, her ankle throbbing with every step, but the real ache wasn’t there. It was in her chest, deep behind her sternum, where the fear had lodged in her heart like shrapnel.
Nate didn’t speak. He didn’t ask why she ran or plead his case. He just moved through the room with a quiet devastation, gathering their things with care. The same care he’d given her as he’d laced up those rental skates. When he’d carried her off stage, and pressed a kiss to her temple in the ambulance like it was avow.
It should have made her feel safe.It did,which was the problem. Because safe wasn’t supposed to feel like standing on the edge of a cliff with the wind at your back, making you feel like you needed to jump. Holly watched him zip up bags and noticed his hands shaking. The sight made her want to cry so badly that she had to press a hand to her chest to physically hold back a sob.
He was tryingso hardnot to break in front of her. Like if he held himself together, maybe she’d stop bleeding too. Like he could out-stubborn their inevitable ending with sheer will and his perfect jawline. The audacity of that man to still look boyfriend-shaped during an emotional collapse.
Her throat burned with the words she didn’t say.I didn’t leave because I don’t want you. I left because I want you too much.It was pathetic, honestly. She could take physical pain like a champ. Dance through tendonitis, heartbreak, and public humiliation. Could survive cancer bills, career pressure and the boundless feeling of being seconds from losing everything.
But this? This was a different kind of pain. This was the type that looked you in the eyes and whispered, you could have everything you’ve ever wanted… and then dared you to want it more than you already did. It melted into silence and the soft sounds of packing. And there, on the edge of it all, Holly tried not to notice Nate glancing at her like he wanted permission to hold her but didn’t know how to ask.
At the airport, he stayed close enough to support her but didn’t touch her unless she leaned in first. He bought her water. He kept her crutches from sliding. Nate handled the tickets. He kept making sure she was okay in that maddening, gentle way that made her want to sob directly onto his chest like anoverwhelmed baby animal. Every time he looked at her, there was a question in his eyes. Notwhy did you do this,butare you still mine in any way at all?
And Holly, coward that she was, couldn’t answer it. Emotional ghosting, but make it co-dependent.
On the plane she pretended to sleep, because pretending was the only skill she had left that didn’t hurt. She tucked the scarf tighter around her neck like armor, the wool smelling faintly of him, and pressed her face toward the window. Her lashes stayed still. Her breathing stayed even. She became a statue of self-control, a woman who looked fine on the outside while everything inside her screamed.
She could feel him beside her anyway.
Not his hand, not his warmth. His presence. The weight of him next to her, the space he took up in the world, and the ache of knowing he wanted to fill the space between them and didn’t know if he was allowed. She felt him shift once, quietly, like he was restless. Felt him glance at her, then away, like looking at her was both comfort and torture. At one point the turbulence jolted the cabin and her ankle twinged so sharply her breath almost hitched. She felt him move instantly, subtly, his arm hovering as if ready to catch her even in midair, even in silence, even when she’d done everything in her power to convince him she didn’t deserve it.
She didn’t open her eyes. Because if she did, she might reach for him.
And if she reached for him, she’d have to admit the truth. That she loved him. That she’d loved him in pieces at first, taking in his chaos, his humor, his steadiness under her sharp edges.And then the rest of it had come in a rush, like falling off a roof. She’d started to believe a future could exist where she didn’t always lose the people she trusted. She’d started to want him for more than stolen nights and stage lights. The mornings. The messy, unsexy reality.
Until Nate’s mother had taken one look at her and saidthat’s not for you.Holly had clawed her way through every room she’d ever been underestimated in. She’d survived ballroom politics, and men like Lars, and cancer phone calls, and pain. Only to be undone by one simple, poisonous suggestion.
