Cam was still talking—something about containment, optics, legal. I barely heard him. My pulse was too loud, my head too full of the image of her face when she saw it. When she realized the story wasn’t about her speech, or her foundation, or what she’d built—it was about me. About us.
“I’ll handle it,” I said finally, even though I didn’t know how.
“Don’t make it worse,” Cam warned. “And for God’s sake, don’t go to her yet.”
He hung up, but I was already on my feet.
Don’t go to her.
As if I could do anything else.
The town outside the window was waking up, but all I could think about was the way she’d looked last night—bright, unguarded, finally free.
And how fast the world was about to try to take that away.
Ellery came out of the bedroom, hair still damp, still wearing one of my shirts. She smiled at first, soft and sleepy.
“Mmm. Smells like coffee,” she started, then paused. Her voice trailed off when she saw my face. “What’s wrong?”
I forced a breath that didn’t want to come. “Cam called a meeting,” I said, tugging a hoodie over my head, needing something to do with my hands. “I’ve got to go.”
She frowned. “I thought you had a road trip today.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t… I don’t know.”
The words came out flat, like they weren’t even mine.
I could feel her watching me, confusion turning to worry. She took a small step forward, and I nearly told her everything right then—about the headlines, the pictures, the way the media had already turned her name into a punchline. But the words stuck in my throat. If she didn’t know yet, I couldn’t be the one to ruin her morning.
So I just said, “It’s nothing,” and hated myself for it.
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing the way they did when she knew I was lying. “Beckett.”
God, the sound of my name from her mouth—soft, careful—hurt worse than any hit I’d ever taken.
“I’ll be back,” I said instead. It wasn’t a promise; it was a plea.
I wanted to reach for her, to kiss her, to anchor myself to the only good thing I’d managed not to wreck yet. But my hands stayed at my sides. I didn’t deserve to touch her, not when everything I’d built with her was about to get dragged through the mud because of me.
The guilt hit like a wave—hot, suffocating. I’d known this could happen, that cameras could twist anything, that proximity to me was never safe. But I’d been selfish. I’d wanted her, anyway.
She stepped closer, brushing her fingers against my arm. “Hey,” she said softly. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
I didn’t trust my voice enough to answer.
When I finally walked out the door, the morning air felt colder than it should have.
All I could think was that the one good thing I’d ever had—the one person who made me feel like more than the headlines—was about to be taken from me.
And for once, I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself.
Chapter 27
Ellery
The apartment was still warm from the night before, sunlight cutting pale lines across the hardwood, quiet in that heavy, waiting kind of way. I’d borrowed one of his shirts after the shower—soft, too big, the sleeves swallowing my hands. It smelled like him. I told myself that’s why I was still wearing it.
My hair was half-dry when my phone started buzzing across the counter. Once. Then again. Then again.
