Instead, I am the idiot.
Again.
I grab my phone and do not look back.
I cannot.
If I look back at the stainless steel, the racks, the proofing room door, at the place where something real almost happened, I might lose it completely.
The bell jangles as I push out the front door. Too loud. Too cheerful. I wince.
I do check the lock. Muscle memory. Respect. I twist the deadbolt and tug once, just to be sure.
Then I walk.
Fast. Furious. Head down. Past the window where she is probably still standing. Past the spot on the sidewalk where Marissa stood like she owned the place. Past the block where the smell of bread gives way to exhaust, trash, and the city at night.
My car is parked three blocks away because I did not want to be seen. Because I did not want this to be about me.
Low profile. Black. Silent.
I get in and slam the door.
The sound is muted by soundproofing and luxury engineering, which somehow makes it worse. It is like even my anger is not allowed to be loud in here.
I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles ache.
Years. She is willing to wait years for something I could do in a second.
It is inefficient.
The thought flares, automatic and ugly, and I hate myself the instant it surfaces. Hate that it still lives in me. Hate that my brain still categorizes time like a problem to be solved instead of a thing to be lived.
I scrub a hand down my face.
This is what she meant. This is exactly what she meant.
My phone buzzes against the dash. The display lights up.
Rex Chen.
I have been ignoring him for two days. Ever since the franchise pitch. Ever since I realized exactly what kind of predator he is. Ever since I saw the look in Tess’s eyes when she said the word scaling, like it tasted bad.
I hit ignore.
The phone buzzes again. A text this time.
REX: Ignoring me, Ashford? Bad for business. I’m at The Aviary. You and me. Ten minutes. Don’t be an idiot.
Don’t be an idiot.
I let out a short, humorless laugh that echoes too loudly in the quiet car.
I feel like the biggest idiot on the planet.
Frustrated. Angry. Completely misunderstood.
And painfully aware that misunderstanding does not mean I am right.
