The water rained down on him, washing away the stench ofLately, Laterand any hope he’d held onto that this might end differently.
Talk about a fucking mess.
He never should’ve put himself on Nocturnal Cupid. Never should’ve come up with the stupid contest to win a date with him. Never should’ve put himself in a position to feel this much for another person.
He’d get a small taste of the goodness of the world, but he never got the whole thing. The key to living was going to have to be avoiding those tastes so he wouldn’t know what he was missing.
He finished his shower, dressed, packed his duffel, and found Darla on the sofa like he’d discovered her countless times before.
Ass to ankles on the sofa, staring out the open window.
He hated this part. Of all the parts that came with caring for a person, letting them go was the thing he hated most.
"The Frontline thing’s gonna be kickass," he said. "Good for you, making that happen."
She’d applied. She landed it. She should do it.
She glanced away from the window to him, her expression hardening at the sight of the duffel bag. He set it down beside him.
"Why?" she asked.
He wasn’t sure if she was asking why about the Frontline situation or about the duffel bag. But either way—
"It’s what you want." He lifted a shoulder. "I respect that."
The hard expression etched on her face turned to nothing again. She was unreadable.
Unreadable was better than hurting, so he’d take it.
"What if I change my mind?" she asked quietly, pointedly checking out his duffel. "It’s a scary thing to move on from everything you know. You know?"
He knew better than he’d ever tell her.
"If you don’t want to go save lives where they need you most, then you should find what you do want. Chase after that with everything you’ve got." He crossed his arms, leaned against the doorjamb. "You deserve all the good stuff, Gorgeous."
She deserved her dose of happy, and he wanted that for her.
"I don’t want to be stuck again. And I don’t want to be on influencer feeds, and I sure as hell never want to doLately, Laterever again in stilettos," she said, adamantly.
"That’s a lot of things you don’t want," he agreed.
"I want more than all of that."
"What do you want, Darla?" he asked, already regretting the question as soon as it left his mouth.
"What if I can’t have what I want?" she asked, blinking away wet tears so quick it was like they never even happened.
He’d never forgive himself for making the crack that formed in her impressive facade. He nearly broke and gave in to what he wanted. To tell her all the things about him and beg her not to go anywhere.
But this was the stopping point, and if they dragged it out, it’d only hurt worse. If he held on that long then the end would be unbearable. He didn’t think he could get through that.
"I don’t get to keep you, Gorgeous," he said, instead of explaining any of it. Explaining how, for him, all the good things never lasted. So he held on while it made sense and then let go when the time came. He’d gotten great at it, actually. Things were easier all around this way. "But it’s sure been fun while it lasted."
"That’s it, then, huh?" she asked, biting at the edge of her bottom lip.
"Yeah," he said, rubbing his hand over his jaw. She made it clear what she didn’t want, and if she stayed with him, that’s exactly what she’d get.
So tomorrow she’d go back to Denver, and tonight he had to let her go. Tonight he’d be the one to leave so she didn’t have to take that on.
