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He didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t.

I turned toward him, heat crawling up the back of my neck. “We are standing at the precipice of hell, Roman. You get that, right? We’re not in the ‘wing it’ phase anymore. We’re in the ‘torches and pitchforks’ phase, and you’re still acting like you’ve got some secret plan stashed up your sleeve.”

“I’ll figure it out,” he said flatly.

I barked a humorless laugh. “God, do you hear yourself? You sound like a guy trying to fix a leaky sink with duct tape. You’re not even trying. You’re just reacting. Always reacting.”

Roman’s jaw flexed, but he said nothing.

I leaned back against the seat. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and be proactive for once? Say something. Do something. Make a choice. You say you care about the pack. You say you care about me. Prove it.”

His hands tightened on the wheel. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t make this about whether I care about you.”

My throat burned. “Then what is it about? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re perfectly content to just float through this and let someone else decide what happens to you.”

Silence.

I turned to look at him again. “Well?”

Still nothing.

Fine. Be that way.

I stared out the window the rest of the way, arms crossed over my chest like armor, watching the familiar streets blur by. We didn’t speak again until he parked in front of our apartment. Roman got out first, slamming the car door a little too hard. I followed, trying not to scream into the night air.

We were halfway up the steps when I saw Eric.

He was standing outside the door, a bouquet of white peonies in one hand, the other jammed into his pocket like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

My stomach dropped. Roman froze beside me.

Eric’s eyes flicked between the two of us. His mouth twitched, but he tried to smile. “Hey.”

“What… What are you doing here?”

He held out the flowers like they might explain everything. “I wanted to talk. I figured… maybe you’d be home.”

Roman stepped forward slightly. His entire body coiled tight like he was waiting for a punch that might already be coming.

I looked from Eric to Roman and back again.

Perfect. Just what we needed.

Another complication.

29

ROMAN

I didn’t move. I stood on the bottom step, arms crossed over my chest to keep myself from unraveling. The street was unnervingly quiet.

Eric looked like a picture someone forgot to erase. Too clean, too polished. He belonged to a version of Maggie that didn’t exist anymore. The bouquet in his hand was shaking slightly, but his voice was steady.

“I made a mistake,” he said. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought ending things would be merciful. But seeing you now, seeing the way you are…” He took a step closer to her. “I’ve never seen you this happy, Mags. Never seen you more… you. Not in all the time we were together.”