“Shut up.”
Looking overhead, I assess the ceiling. The plaster is already cracked into a spider web that seems to spread more by the minute, with a water stain painted on like a bruise. It’s ugly in the way something ignored always is. Like the house got tired of begging and decided to scream instead.
“Okay,” I say, more to myself than him. “Let’s get this down.”
Levi backs away so he’s not stuck under the debris when it falls. “Go on then, Hulk.”
I wedge the edge of the crowbar into one of the cracks between joists, brace myself on the ladder, and pull hard. The first section gives with a sharp snap. Dust rains down like old ghosts, and chunks of plaster break loose, crashing to the floor. The sound is violent but satisfying.
Levi lets out a low whistle. “Damn. She really let this place rot.”
I don’t answer, but shove the crowbar again, harder, ripping out another section. More insulation spills out, exposing water rotted wood. Each pull is a release of something tense and ancient in the room.
And maybe in me.
Because the mess feels familiar. Something that should’ve been dealt with a long time ago, but wasn’t.
“You good?”
“I’m fine.”
I’m not, but saying it out loud right now feels wrong.
“Are you sure? Because you’re going at the ceiling like it’s personally responsible for hurting you.”
“It kind of is.”
He laughs again, but not as loud, like he’s not sure if it’s joke territory.
The truth is…demolition has always been the easiest part because it’s controlled. You know what’s coming, what stays up, and what you can salvage. You plan the damage.
People aren’t like that.
Relationships sure as hell aren’t.
Levi coughs. “Remind me to never piss you off.”
“You already piss me off daily,” I counter.
“Yeah, but mildly. I’d like to avoid this”—he twirls his finger in the air—“full rage version of Tucker.”
“This isn’t rage.”
He gestures to the carnage. “Then what is this?”
I prop the crowbar on my shoulder and look up at the ceiling. Assessing the beams that are exposed to the light again.
“It’s just…” I exhale slowly. “Getting rid of what’s been holding the place back.”
Because I know what rot does if you leave it long enough.
It spreads.
It ruins everything around it.
“Very poetic of you.”
I flip him off again, and he grins. “So, is this the part where you pretend you’re not losing it over her?”
