Sadie’s eyes narrow. “Stop saying that.”
Wyatt doesn’t look at me yet. He looks at Levi. “Get out.”
Levi blinks. “Excuse me?”
Wyatt’s voice stays calm. “Now.”
Levi opens his mouth, probably to joke, but Sadie grabs his sleeve and tugs. “Come on. Let them.”
Levi points at me as he backs toward the door. “For the record, Ellie, if you need someone to bury a body?—”
“Levi,” Sadie warns.
He grins. “Kidding. Mostly.”
Then they’re gone, and the shop is suddenly too quiet.
Wyatt turns toward me slowly.
His eyes hit my face and something in him shifts again—tension, fury, restraint so tight it looks like pain.
“Come here,” he says.
I lift my chin. “Don’t order me around.”
His gaze drags down my body, then back up. “I’m ordering you around.”
My pulse jumps. My throat tightens. “Wyatt?—”
He takes one step closer. “Ellie.”
The way he says my name makes it feel like a hand at the back of my neck.
I try to keep my voice sharp. “I handled it.”
“You didn’t,” he says. “You survived it.”
Anger flashes. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make me sound weak.”
His eyes harden. “I’m not making you anything. He did.”
The words land like a hit to the chest. My breath catches. I look away because if I keep looking at Wyatt, the dam breaks.
Wyatt’s hand catches my chin, turning my face back to his. Not rough. Not gentle either. Just… inevitable.
“Tell me,” he says.
I swallow hard. “Tell you what.”
“The truth,” he replies. “No more minimizing. No more ‘I’m fine.’”
I laugh once, brittle. “You want the truth? The truth is I’m standing in my own shop wearing your shirt because my ex locked me out of my life.”
Wyatt’s jaw tightens. “Keep going.”
