It wasn’t a gradual realization. It was a violent, disorienting drop, like missing the last stop in the dark. My body grew numb while I turned to face him. My mind struggled to come up with something to say. Words failed me. He stood there, his expression painfully composed, as he set my wedding ring down on the kitchen island.
The sight of it was almost worse than the question. It looked so small—a thick gold band that carried the weight of the prison I’d built.
“Maverick,” I began slowly, hoping to hell my mind would catch up, “it’s not that simple—”
“It is that simple, Harley,” he said over me, his volume growing exponentially. “Are you married?”
Air scraped against my lungs as I tried to control my breathing. Guilt and shame wrapped tightly around my chest, constricting painfully.This was it.This was the moment I’d known was coming and had stupidly convinced myself that I could outrun.
“Yes,” I replied, the word tasted bitter in my mouth.
A heartbeat passed between us.
And another.
Time stretched thin and fragile between us. I watched the horrified expression grow on his face. Disbelief. Betrayal. Hurt.So much hurt.It unfolded slowly as I watched his heart break in real time. I couldn’t look away, even as it gutted me.
I’d done that to him.
That was my fault.
I’d put that look on his face.
I opened and closed my mouth, trying to find the right words to say. Trying to figure out how to make this right. But there was no version of this whereI’m sorrycovered the damage I’d done. No explanation I could give him wouldn’t sound like an excuse.
“Oh, I think I’m going to be sick,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his mouth as he slowly turned away from me.
The room swayed as my pulse thundered violently in my ears. I hadn’t planned for this.I should’ve planned for this.I’d built entire fantasies around making this work, but I hadn’t prepared for the moment the fantasy shattered.
“Maverick—”
“No!” he said over me. He stormed down the hall, heading for the front door. I chased after him as panic clawed its way through my chest.
“Please—”
“Not a fucking word, Harley!” Maverick shouted. He stumbled and hit the wall as he struggled to pull on his boots. His movements were erratic and rage-filled, his body shaking as if he was trying not to snap.
“Please, let me explain!”
“There’s nothing to explain.”
There was. There had to be. There had to be something I could say to salvage this. All the messy, complicated parts of me didn’t fit into a single yes-or-no answer. It was so much more than that.
“Yes, there—” The door slammed off the wall as he threw it open. He rushed out into the rain without hesitation. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I ripped off my socks instead of finding shoes and ran after him, barely feeling the sting of the cold rain as I hurried down the steps. Rain soaked my clothes instantly, plastering the fabric to my skin.
“Mav, stop!” I yelled. “Please let me explain!”
He didn’t slow.
The panic hit instantly, hot and suffocating. It flooded my bloodstream so fast that I felt lightheaded.
As he reached for the door of his truck, I grabbed his arm to stop him. His reaction was visceral. He whirled fast, and I stumbled backward, slipping in the mud, nearly taking myself out on his truck. My pulse spiked as I grabbed the side mirror to keep myself upright.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Maverick shouted. “You don’t get to explain! You’re married! You’re fucking married, Harley!”
“You don’t understand!” I cut in, desperate and trembling. Whether it was from the cold or the panic was beyond me. I just knew I couldn’t stop. My teeth were chattering, and my breath came out in shallow, quick pants. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs.
