She didn’t.
“You shouldn’t have to deal with the catastrophe that is my life! Sooner or later, you’ll get tired of me and walk out the door for good—”
“Heather. Look at me!”
Her name broke from him—not angry.
Hurt.
Real hurt.
“You think I’m made of stone?” His voice trembled at the edges. “You push me away the second something hurts, and you expect me not to feel it? You expect me to just… wait in the doorway until ye’re done destroying yourself?”
The air wooshed out of Heather’s lungs. She hadn’t expected him to break, too.
He took a single step forward.
“I’m here because I care,” he said roughly. “And every time you shove me out—every time you slam a door in my face, turn your back, walk away—it feels like…”
He exhaled hard.
“It feels like you’re done with me.”
Heather’s heart clenched.Oh no.
“That’s not true,” she whispered.
“Well, it bloody feels true.”
“You don’t answer my calls. You vanish for days. And when I show up, all I get is you tearing yourself down and pushing me out likeI’mthe enemy.”
Her lips trembled.
“Flynn, I was—I am… grieving. I don’t want to hurt you with it.”
He shook his head and moved toward her: slow, steady, but with a weight she’d never seen in him before.
“But youdid.”
The quiet of it hit harder than shouting ever could.
She had to escape.
Had to get some space between the two of them. She made a beeline to the kitchen.
Flynn followed her.
“I’m human, Heather. I’m not perfect,” he continued. “I’m not unshakable. I care for you so much it scares me, and when you shut down and shove me away—”
His breath hitched.
“It lands. I feel it. Every damn time.”
A tear slipped down his cheek. Heather nearly crumbled right then.
Flynn’s voice softened, but didn’t lose its urgency.
“You say everyone leaves. You say I’m going to leave.”
