What happens if she asks him thatone questionevery ex eventually does?
Will you take me back?
Chapter Twenty-Three
MERCS
After today’s events, I’m physically and emotionally spent. With Kiera nearly passing out, then everything that happened at the diner with Lilah, I’m on the brink. One more hit, and I’m not sure I’ll recover. That’s why, when we got up from eating our pie, and I caught Lilah watching us from the counter like some desperate ghost from the past, I turned away.
That woman does not get my attention.
Not anymore.
I’m done with her.
Completely.
Still, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t rattle me. I expected I might run into Lilah while I was here, but no amount of mental preparation could have stopped the gut punch I took when I saw her face again.
Because just seeing her…
… brought itallback.
The ring was in my pocket.
I was coming home to surprise Lilah after a fight—our last fight. She hated how much I was away, hated that the band came before her, so I thought proposing would fix everything. Prove to her that she was always my end game. That I was out there working my ass off for us.
I wanted her to have everything—wedding, house, security. Love.
The car was moving.
I thought something was wrong.
Instead, I found something so much worse.
Instead, I came home and found her bent over the back seat of my fucking car with Shane, my best friend since we were kids, slamming into her like she was nothing. Like we were nothing.
I can still hear their moans. See their tangled bodies. Her head falling back in surprise when I yanked open the door.
The shame in her eyes.
The terror in his.
The instant recognition on his face that what we had, the decades of friendship, was now dead.
He didn’t just fuck her. He annihilated every memory we had growing up, every bond, every moment of loyalty. He burned it all for a cheap fuck.
And Lilah! She didn’t even fight for it.
No apology.
No reason.
Just excuses.
As if that would have made any difference.
“Are you okay?” Effa’s husky voice slices through the memory, dragging me out before I spiral. I blink back to the present, unclenching my fists, only now realizing how tightly they had balled. My breathing’s too shallow, my chest too tight. That whole damn night still claws at me.
